“Oh, this is worse than I thought!” Madame Pelletier pulled a fistful of white granules from her pocket. She tossed them over her shoulder. “Salt in the devil’s eye. Burning fury. Curse that spy!”
“Don’t worry,” said Kitty. “Godard is already working on that. There’s a few she knows she can trust. We’re weeding out the rat.”
Madame Pelletier gathered up the piece of fabric. “Well, I certainly hope you find them soon.”
Sylvie watched the two women move back across the room. Slowly, she crept out. Her legs were numb from sitting on them, but she didn’t care. Kitty’s words echoed in her head.A codling moth has burrowed in.August’s warning,watch your back,now made sense.There’s a spy at Brindille.
Sylvie knew about codling moths from one of her mom’s botany books. On the surface, they were harmless insects. But in the right conditions, they could cause serious damage … especially to apples. Once they burrowed into the core, a nasty rot crept in. You had to trap and destroy them, quickly. If you didn’t, they could bring down an entire orchard.Or in this case, a school.
Sylvie looked around at the other Pips, smiling and inspecting their tools. Her mind was made up. There was only one thing for her to do.Tonight, I’m sneaking into the library and getting the hidden paper from Escoffier’s book before anyone else finds it.
Where Recipe Meets Magic
AFTER THE APRON FITTING, FLORA LED THE STREAM OFPIPStoward the greenhouse in the garden.
Standing outside, next to two trellis-covered stone tables, was a petite woman with sun-kissed skin, dirt under her nails, and twigs tangled in her tight curls. She tugged at a sprig.
“Good day, everyone! I’m Gideon Green. You may call me Instructor Gideon.” She smiled politely at Flora. “You’re welcome to stay if you’d like to get some fresh air.”
“Thank you, but”—Flora glanced back at one of the towers—“Madame Godard needs to see me in her office.”
Gideon picked up a watering can. “In that case, you better not keep the headmistress waiting.”
Sylvie watched enviously as Flora vanished up the path.
Of course Sylvie was excited to be starting her preparatory classes. But it was hard to concentrate on cooking when her mind was focused on the book in the library. Plus …
She looked up at the canopy of young snake gourds blotting out the sky above the tables. They were as long as her arms and reminded Sylvie of sleek green eels, docile yet deceitful.
“Now, before we begin, a bit more about me.” Gideon tipped the metal spout onto the roots of the sprawling vine.
“My areas of expertise are peculiar plants, plant breeding, and culinary farming. It’s my job to maintain Brindille’s gardens and teach classes pertaining to cultivation and foraging.”
“I thought classes were canceled for the day,” said Adara, staring uncertainly at the writhing gourds.
“For everyone else, yes. However, you have six weeks until testing, which means there is no time for breaks”—Instructor Gideon emptied the watering can, then paused—“despite the August Strange announcements.”
“I wonder if it’s true,” said Big Shawn. “Could there be something the CCS isn’t telling us?”
Sylvie felt her cheeks flush.
“You should let others worry about that,” said Gideon. “You’re here to focus on learning.”
Georgia stood quietly at the other end of the table, chewing on a nail as the gourds twisted back into tight coils.
“Perfect! That should keep them calm until our lesson is over,” said Gideon.
“We don’t have to try and charm them, do we?” Adara asked.
“No—”
Darius cut in. “What’s wrong? You scared of a little gourd?”
Instructor Gideon thrust out the watering can. “Well, ifyouaren’t, Darius, be my guest. But I’d caution you. Young snake gourds have flesh sweet as a melon, but a bite as sharp as a knife.”
Darius turned three shades paler. “Actually, I think I’m good.”
“Wise decision.” Gideon dusted off her hands and turned back to the class. “Peculiar plant maintenance isn’t taught until your third year. So you’ll have time before you need to learn how to charm a gourd.”
