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Chapter Fifty-Three

B rother? Shock coursed through me. I was suddenly desperate to peek my head out between the trees, but the air that had swept me behind them was still firmly in place.

It was as if invisible ropes were tied around my arms and legs. There was no sensation across my mouth, though, so Callan must have trusted me to keep quiet on my own.

“Didn’t think to tell me you were making a visit to the tree conservatory?” The unfamiliar voice—Callan’s brother?—asked.

“Didn’t think you’d be here,” Callan responded evenly. I still couldn’t see either of them, but I imagined Callan forming the tense posture he often held around his parents. Was his relationship with his brother strained too?

“Needing something from the library?” his brother asked.

“Came for a book.” I heard a soft rustle, as if Callan had waved a book in the air for proof.

“You traveled all the way to Washington for a book?”

“I’m visiting the moss conservatory with Meadow. Picking up a book I needed for field studies was a bonus.”

There was a pause, as if the brothers were in some kind of silent standoff. Callan was the one to break it. “I don’t mean to keep you from your important duties. I have to get back to the moss conservatory.”

“Were you here all alone?” The way his brother said it, I had a feeling he knew the answer.

Callan handled it masterfully. “Do you see anyone else around? I’m on my way out. See you later, Wyatt.”

“I’ll walk you out,” his brother—Wyatt—offered. I heard the sound of feet moving away, and a few moments later, my magical bonds were released.

I poked my head infinitesimally out from the trees, confirming that the coast was clear.

My eyes darted to the archival tree. On instinct, I dashed to it and stepped inside.

Callan’s backpack was sitting on the floor, almost blending in beside a messy stack of books.

I unzipped the backpack and checked the contents.

The case we’d brought the fake quill in was inside. I opened it and examined the quill.

“Spores,” I murmured, realizing that it was the quill I had created.

Callan must not have had time to swap it out.

I began to search the archival area, and my eyes fell on a thick box that was propped open.

I folded down one of the flaps and saw a label that read “Quill to the rumored Vanished Compendium – historical legends section.” I pushed down the flap and peered inside.

There, underneath a phytoglass display, was the real quill.

Well, I had wanted to help, and now was my chance. I might be powerless here, but I had gotten along in the world for eighteen years without any powers. I could do this… as long as nobody else unexpectedly showed up.

I took a deep breath and reached into the box, praying that Callan had finished removing all the defenses before his brother interrupted. When I was able to touch the phytoglass without getting zapped—or whatever would happen with tree defenses—I assumed Callan had done his part.

After a quick glance to the entrance of the hollow, I unlatched the phytoglass door and gently lifted out the quill.

I remembered the protective bag we’d brought along and reached into Callan’s backpack again, heart pounding as my fingers felt for the bag.

Once they landed on the smooth silky fabric, I yanked the bag out of the backpack and slid the quill inside.

I couldn’t tell if I was breathing as I reached for the dummy quill I had created and set it in the phytoglass container then closed the clear door.

I glanced around. The archival tree was still empty, but I heard voices, and they were getting louder. Someone was approaching.

Without Callan, I wasn’t going to be able to put the defenses back on the phytoglass. That would leave more of a trail than we’d been hoping for, but I saw no other option.

Doing one quick check to see that the angle of the quill and the rest of the box were exactly as I’d found them, I returned the box’s top, picked up Callan’s backpack, hurriedly exited the tree, and rushed away from the library hollows.

When I saw a sign pointing toward the exit, I followed it, keeping an eye out for Callan and his brother. I hoped they were far enough ahead of me that I wouldn’t run into them until Callan had managed to shake his brother.

My legs were on autopilot as I climbed a spiral tree path to the second level then headed for the exit.

My heart raced like I was a thief sneaking a priceless painting out of an art museum, and I tried to keep my pace steady as I passed magical botanists at work.

I hoped my expression wasn’t giving away how nervous I felt.

Act natural, Briar. No one has any reason to suspect you.

I clenched the straps of Callan’s backpack so I had something to do with my hands.

A cool sweat formed at the back of my neck, and I had to force myself to breathe normally as I approached the entrance.

I imagined walking along this path with Callan instead of alone, and instantly, my breathing relaxed.

The bioluminescent sap was still floating like near-motionless fireflies in the air, but I barely noticed it.

I was nearing the exit when a head of bright blond hair caught my eye, and I slowed to turn, the way our brains automatically gravitate toward faces and body shapes that are familiar. My brain knew I shouldn’t be slowing or stopping now, but the odd tug of familiarity didn’t allow me to keep going.

Was that?—

No . It couldn’t be.

The man’s head turned slightly to the left, and he let out a laugh at something the person next to him was saying.

I suppressed a gasp.

Alex?

What was Alex doing at the tree conservatory?

Thoughts struggled to connect in my brain.

But that meant… Was Alex a magical botanist?

The man Alex was talking to began to turn in my direction, and I ripped my eyes away from them, quickly hastening my pace toward the exit.

My heart felt like it was beating a million beats per second. Too much had happened in the last few minutes for me to do anything but surge forward, hoping to find Callan, who was still nowhere in sight.

We had more than one problem on our hands now, and I desperately needed to get out of the tree conservatory before I blew our whole mission.