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Terlu flipped to near the end of the book.

She stabbed her finger at a line. “He cast it, I’m sure of it.

He cast it to test it”— Just like I’ve been doing, casting bits of spells and learning from them —“to make sure the spell would stay viable after his death. He was checking the longevity of the spell, not the functionality, so it was an incomplete spell. He meant to disable it as soon as the test was done and recast it when it was complete, but then he died. Maybe he was distracted and rushing because he’d realized the spell had a fatal flaw, and that’s why he fell.

Or maybe it was just an unlucky coincidence.

But regardless, he never stopped the spell.

It lurched on, incomplete and flawed, but here’s the key: the spell was built with a delay.

An intentional delay. So that after his death, there would be a couple months during which any remaining residents could leave the island.

Do you see? He intentionally left time in the spell for his funeral and for you to leave. ”

“But I didn’t leave.”

“Right, but he didn’t expect that. And the spell wasn’t complete anyway. The delay worked, yes, but when it kicked in… He hadn’t finished perfecting it, so when the spell was triggered, it didn’t do what it was supposed to do.”

Yarrow frowned at the coded spell and at her scribbles in the margins. “What was it supposed to do?”

“It was supposed to isolate the entire greenhouse from the rest of the world. He thought it was the only way his creations could be safe—if they were severed from everyone else. Alone.”

Yarrow snorted.

“I know, right? Exact opposite of what he should have done. But fear consumed reason. Anyway, he hadn’t completed the spell, and so instead of isolating the greenhouses and making them self-sufficient, the spell destabilizes the existing enchantments.”

“And destroys the very thing he wanted to protect,” Yarrow said.

“Yes, ironic, I know, but I believe his half-finished spell is still active, and every few months—that delay he was testing, you see—it triggers again and destroys another greenhouse.”

His eyes widened. “That… makes sense.”

“So the question is how do we stop the spell?” She paced around the cottage, certain this was the answer.

They’d stumbled on it by accident, while experimenting just like Laiken had.

“We discovered the answer the other day when we, you know, nearly died. If we can destroy the ingredients, it’ll break the spell. ”

Yarrow crossed to her, cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her.

The ghost was not helpful.

Terlu nibbled on the leftover honey cake as she glared at the grimy mirror in the late sorcerer’s bedroom. “I know you can hear us. Ask again, Lotti.”

Perched on the bedside table, the little rose implored, “Please, dear Laiken, sorcerer supreme, if you could grant us an answer to one teensy-weensy question—”

Yarrow leaned closer and murmured in Terlu’s ear, “Teensy-weensy?”

“Shh,” Terlu whispered back. “Let her do it her way. She knew him best.”

Spreading her leaves dramatically, Lotti said, “We would be so enormously grateful and in awe of your brilliance and benevolence. You’d be the Hero of Belde, saving all your wonderful creations. All you have to do is tell us where to find the ingredients. Are they here in the workroom?”

They waited, but there was no sign that the ghost was even listening.

“Are they in the greenhouse?” Lotti tried.

No response.

“Are they on the island?”

The bedroom stayed silent and still. No breeze.

No shiver of cold. Terlu wondered briefly if asking the question had caused the ghost to move on.

She’d heard stories about that—once whatever emotion was holding the remnants of them was satisfied, they’d dissipate.

Perhaps he’d only stayed until he’d finished being irritating.

“Ask him if he wants us to save the greenhouses.”

Lotti raised her voice. “Do you want us to save the greenhouses?”

A wind raced through the bedroom, stirring the sheets and blankets on the bed and knocking Lotti a few inches to the side. Yarrow helped her right herself.

“That was a yes,” Lotti said.

“Are you sure?” Yarrow said. “It only seemed emphatic.”

“A yes smells like a rose. A no is skunk cabbage.”

“How…” Terlu began. She stopped herself and shook her head. She wasn’t here to study ghost behavior. All they needed right now were answers. “Never mind. Ask him: Does he know where the ingredients are?”

A sad breeze ruffled the curtain and did, in fact, stink faintly of skunk cabbage, now that she was aware of it.

Yarrow snorted. “How can he not know?”

“It isn’t all of him,” Terlu said. “Just the remnant of a regret. A feeling.” Maybe love. He’d loved these greenhouses, even if that love had later been warped by fear. “Tell him we’ll do our best.”

Lotti repeated that and then said to Terlu, “I’d like to stay here with him, if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” Terlu said. If she could have given the rose a hug, she would have.

This had to be immensely difficult for Lotti.

The rose’s petals were spread open, her leaves unfurled, as if she were reaching out to the one who’d made her, loved her, and, in the end, failed her.

Swallowing, Terlu turned to Yarrow. “Should we start searching?”

He nodded. “Can you narrow down at least what we’re looking for, or do we have to play yes/no questions with an errant breeze again?”

The breeze raced through the room, blowing the curtains, the sheets, and their hair.

Luckily, she knew the answer to that from her translation work.

She patted her curls back down. “Shells. All kinds of shells: the shell of a hickory nut, a clamshell, a conch shell, a robin’s egg shell, the exoskeleton of a cricket, the shell of a box turtle…

And it’ll be a large quantity. I vote we start the search here where he did his work. ”

Together, Terlu and Yarrow searched the upstairs.

It didn’t take long. A few chests of dusty clothes.

A drawer of ointments, primarily medical.

Laiken had had very little in his bedroom.

Downstairs, in the workroom, they’d already been through everything looking for spells, but they double-checked each drawer and examined every pot and beaker.

“It’s most likely in the greenhouse,” Terlu admitted.

She’d hoped it would be simpler, but the greenhouse was a far more logical place than the workroom, closer to what the spell needed to affect. How, though, were they going to search all of the greenhouse? It was a mammoth task. She hadn’t even visited all the rooms!

We can’t do it alone.

She didn’t voice that out loud. He wasn’t going to like what she wanted to suggest.

Both of them pulled on their coats.

Yarrow opened the door and paused. Outside, his sister, Rowan, was strolling away from the dock with her wife. Ambrel was holding a fishing pole over one shoulder, and Rowan had a bucket that presumably held fish.

He sighed heavily. “The search will be faster with help.”

Terlu blinked at him. “Yes, but… You’re the one suggesting it?”

“I know, I know.”

“Want me to do the talking?” Terlu offered.

“Yes!” he said in a relieved exhale. “But… I’ll come with you.”

She took his hand and led him out of the workroom. Jogging toward Rowan and Ambrel, Terlu called to them, “Hey, wait up, please! I— we —need your help!”