“It’s strange. The magic… it’s constricted. It’s like it’s being blocked somehow.”
I glanced between the three of them. Meadow was biting her lip, but Callan’s eyes were locked on me, and he nodded encouragingly.
“How do you know?” Hollis asked.
“I can feel it.” The sensation was familiar from when I worked on detecting the defensive aspects of plants in my field research with Petra. I could feel that something with a purpose other than life and growth was in the ink.
I reached out with my powers again, prodding more deeply. But unlike in my lessons with Petra, when I could undo the defense, this one was locked away, as if there was something contributing to it that I couldn’t feel.
“A blocking spell,” Callan murmured, a hint of surprised awe in his voice. “Complicated magic.”
At his words, I reached out again, concentrating with every cell in my being. Finally, I let out a breath. The cells of the plant feltlike they were fighting to work for me, but they were bound by miniscule ropes.
“And how do we unblock it?” Meadow asked, more to the group than to me.
“I’m not sure. Blocking spells were banned some time ago and are very uncommon now. I’ll do some research on how they work as soon as we get back to the academy,” Callan said.
I nodded. “Me too.” If there was a chance I had been right about the quill working for me and that all we needed to do was remove this blocking spell, I would scour every piece of research I could find.
“Okay, let’s put it away. We need to get ready for the gala,” Meadow said, reluctance in her voice.
I ran my hands along the feather of the quill before placing it into its protective bag and returning it to the backpack. It felt like we were toting around a stolen copy of the Declaration of Independence.
And given the structure of the society of magical botanists, perhaps in some ways, we were.
Chapter Fifty-Six
About ten minutes into our hike to the moss conservatory, I understood why Meadow had provided me a pair of trekking poles.
Shortly after leaving her house, we had stepped off the main trail into a section of the forest with a sign on the ground that read “No walking in this area. Sensitive ground plants.”
Now, the path began to increase in incline, and soon we were climbing a set of natural stairs, made of earth and moss and tree roots. Meadow extended her trekking poles, and I followed her lead.
The soft sounds of the forest and the birds and critters within were soon replaced by the rushing of water. We had to be approaching a waterfall. We rounded a bend on the steep, narrow trail, and I paused to admire the streaming expanse of water trailing off the rocks to our left.
Heavy mist sprayed my face as we climbed, so close to the waterfall that it felt like it was raining. Rainbows danced inches above the moist ground below us.
Finally, Meadow stopped her ascent. She waited for the threeof us to reach her then stepped between two trees in the thickest part of the forest. When I got closer, I saw that one tree was growing to the right, the other to the left, forming an intertwining of branches that created an arch. Moss covered nearly every inch of the bark.
“Here we go,” Meadow said before disappearing through the arched thicket.
I glanced back at Callan, and he nodded. “Go ahead.”
With one last glance at the waterfall to my left, I turned and stepped through the arching trees. We were at a moss-riddled entrance to a green building, the entire area camouflaged to the outside, perfectly protected by trees and draping moss.
“Has anyone ever stumbled across this who wasn’t supposed to?” I asked. I assumed that any person who came through here without knowing what they were looking for would stroll right past—that was how well hidden it was.
Callan nodded toward the emerald ring on my finger. “Everyone needs a charged gemstone to pass through and see what’s really there, just like at the academy. If someone did get close, a botanist dressed as a park ranger would quickly arrive to escort them away from thesensitive plants.”
“Ready to go in?” Meadow asked, and we nodded. “Okay, then. Time to meet my mom.” Meadow pushed open a door concealed with a curtain of moss, and we followed her inside.
Just like when we entered the tree conservatory, I felt access to my power leave me, but I couldn’t dwell on it for long as I took in the area.
My eyes traveled everywhere as I examined the spacious room. Everything about it felt alive. There were bright, warm lamps of various shapes and sizes littering the floor, and a domed glass ceiling let in natural light. There was a modern reception counter to the right for visitors to the conservatory to check in, a large open area with tables and displays of various plants and equipment, andthen four hallways that I assumed led to other rooms off of this central, rounded glass pod. The entire floor was a carpet of moss.
We walked to the reception counter, and Meadow waved at the man behind it.
“Meadow! Your mom said we could expect you and some friends today. I’ll page her.”
