Sylvie set off across the garden. She still had no clue how she was going to find a squill.
Look for soft, exposed dirt,she told herself, crossing off the rocky area where patches of wolfsbane and swaying cobra lilies were growing.
“I think I’m having a panic attack,” said a boy wearing a name tag that said VIHAAN. “I mean, deciding if you should put bay leaf or lime leaf into a pot of chicken soup,that’sintuition. But hunting down a magical ingredient …” He turned to Sylvie. “What happens if we don’t find anything?”
“I don’t know,” said Sylvie. Clearly, she wasn’t the only one feeling nervous.
In the diner, she’d trusted her gut. She’d let it guide her. That’s how she’d known to use the crimson knotroot at the end, like vanilla. But this was different. At least in the diner she’d had options. Now, she was in the dark.
Her palms turned clammy.
Vihaan suddenly raced off. Sylvie wasn’t sure if he’d had an idea, or if he was going to puke in a bush.
There has to be a solution.Sylvie spotted a soft plot where rows of dandelions, butterwort, and purple shiso were growing.
Maybe there?
Sylvie frowned. Even if she had a colony of gophers helping her, it would take all night to dig it up. She had an hour.Correction, less than an hour.
Her hand turned tacky. Sylvie looked down at the trowel clutched tightly in her grip. Sweat wasn’t normally sticky.
Unless …
Sylvie examined the shovel closely.
Of course!
This exercise wasn’t just about using your intuition. It’s about recognizing spells. The trowel wasn’t made of wood and steel. It was made ofgum paste.That’s why her sweat was making it sticky.
Gideon’s words drifted back.Each component feeds off the other.
If Sylvie’s hunch was right, the spell in the gum paste was connected to the squill. It would lead her to the bulb. She just had to let it guide her.
Sylvie moved toward the patch of shiso. She spotted Vihaan roaming through a bog of butterwort.
She got down on her knees and ran the trowel across the dirt.
Feel for it,she reminded herself.
A tiny buzz reverberated up her fingers. This was probably how Gideon knew which table had been made of chocolate and which one was stone.
She sensed the magic.
Leaves crunched nearby. Sylvie spotted Georgia crouching in the soft soil near a patch of dandelions.
She must’ve figured it out too.
Sylvie quickly moved her trowel across several mounds of mulch. She didn’t know how many squills Instructor Gideon had planted in the herbs and flowers, but with Georgia and Vihaan working close by, she needed to hurry.
A tiny spark erupted from the tip of her shovel.
Yes!
She shoved it into the dirt and felt it stop against something firm.
Sylvie pressed down, pushing more earth out of place. A second later, a grubby bulb popped out.
Got you!
