“Wren, the word ‘fine’ is like the biggest indicator that a person is not, in fact, fine,” Eva said. “I suppose next you’re going to tell me you were fine when you left my house last night?”
I felt the color flooding my cheeks as I stammered to reply.
“Look, Wren, you’ve been really supportive of me while I was working towards becoming a waterworker. You haven’t been properly dry in months.”
I smiled in spite of myself. “True. But you needed to practice.”
“And so do you,” Eva said gently. “For a lot longer than you think. I can see you getting discouraged, but you shouldn’t be. You’ll get there, just like the rest of us. And in the meantime, it’s just… keeping your head down and doing the work. Now, the Shadow Tree is a powerful place for a spirit witch, so I’ll leave you here by yourself on one condition.”
I hesitated. “Okay…”
“Just be gentle with yourself. If things don’t go the way you want, no moping. No beating yourself up. And don’t sit here all night wearing yourself out. It’s not worth it, and it won’t help.”
I suddenly found I was swallowing hard against something that felt dangerously close to tears. “Thanks, Eva,” I managed to choke out. “I promise.”
“Okay, then,” Eva said, and then turned back. “I lied, there are twoconditions. If I text you when I get home and you aren’t safely back to Lightkeep, or at least on the way, I’m coming back here to drag your ass home.”
I laughed, raising my hands in surrender. “Okay, okay!”
Eva narrowed her eyes at me again, making the universally recognized hand gesture for “I’m watching you” and then, with a wink, grabbed Nova’s arm and started to follow the rest of the crowd back toward the path we’d come by.
I watched them all go one by one, the lights blinking out of sight as the forest swallowed them up. I didn’t move. I just stood with my candle flickering in my hand, until at last I was alone with the Shadow Tree. I didn’t feel nervous; instead, a sense of calm started to wash over me, the kind of calm you can find just by being in the presence of something warm and familiar. It was the same feeling, I realized, that I got when my mom and I would curl up on opposite ends of the same couch, or when Freya purred against me, or when I simply walked in the door of Lightkeep Cottage. I was connected to something in this clearing, and that connection was soothing. I allowed myself to enjoy the sensation for a few moments, just sort of basking in it, as the tree twinkled and winked in front of me.
I tried to focus my energy, like Xiomara had taught me. I cleared all the clutter out of my mental state, and tried to listen with more than my ears, to see with more than my eyes. The clearing was surprisingly warm and comforting, and yet, no spirit presence stepped into the foreground to speak to me, no new yet somehow familiar voice whispered to me. The longer I stood there alone, the sadder I felt. The magic of the place seemed to fade as the lanterns dimmed one by one, and went out. Had I been mistaken about the draw of this place? Maybe it wasn’t the energy of ancestors at all—maybe it had been all the other excited witches surrounding me that had lent such an electricity to the atmosphere. Or—and this thought made my heart leap into my throat—maybe it was their connection to their ancestors I’d been feeling, because now that I was here alone, reaching out, no one was answering.
Tears sprang into my eyes as the last of the lanterns finally flickeredand died. The Shadow Tree stood before me like a lifeless shell of a thing, no longer a source of wonder or awe, but just another reminder of my own disconnect from everything I was supposed to be. I was filled with a confusion and frustration that teetered on rage. How was it possible that I was in danger from dark and powerful forces for magic I could barely seem to find, let alone control? All the progress I’d been so proud of, the spells and charms I’d learned, the breakthroughs I’d had under my aunts’ and mother’s guidance, it all shriveled up into nothing in the emptiness of the clearing.
My phone buzzed suddenly in my pocket, making me jump. I pulled it out and found a message from Eva.
Are you heading back home yet, or do I have to come get you?
I checked the time on my phone screen, and saw that nearly an hour had passed since my friends had left. I blinked. Had it really been that long? My body seemed just as unaware of the passage of time as my mind—my legs didn’t hurt from standing for so long, nor did my arm ache from holding the candle up. The message seemed to break the spell, though. I suddenly felt cold and tired. I was ready to go home. I should have just left with everyone else—what a waste of time. My mom would probably be wondering what happened to me, and I wasn’t looking forward to the lecture I’d surely receive for staying in the woods alone.
I was just turning back to the path that would lead me back to Nova’s car when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw my candle flame begin to sputter and dance violently. Instinctively I put a hand up to shield it, but there was hardly a breath of a breeze in the clearing, and anyway, Nova had told me the flame wouldn’t blow out. And yet, as I continued to watch it, I felt that, at any moment…
The flame gave one last wiggle, and extinguished.
I stared at it, horrified. I didn’t know what it meant when a magical flame went out, but I didn’t think it could mean anything good. In desperation, I turned back to the tree, searching frantically for even a spark left behind where I could relight the candle, but I already knew the lanterns were out—I’d stood here and watched them die one by one.
Just as I thought my panic might choke me, a light appeared hoveringat the edge of the woods. It was small and orange and leapt like fire—wasfire, I realized. Just a tiny, disembodied flame, bobbing like a little head as though to say,Come on.
I looked down at my still-smoking candle, and then back at the flame hovering unsupported in the air, like an invisible person was holding an equally invisible candle. I felt a pull toward it, like it was silently calling my name. My fear vanished almost as quickly as it had come. Somehow, I knew that flame was mine—the same flame that had seemed to burn out moments ago atop my candle was now beckoning me forward. I didn’t stop to think or doubt myself. I just stumbled forward toward the flame that, though it was silent, was calling my name.
As soon as I closed half the distance across the clearing, the flame blinked out of sight. I had about a second of heart-stopping fear, and then the flame reappeared, blinking back into existence maybe twenty feet into the tree line. I was so relieved to see it that I plunged recklessly forward to follow it, reaching the edge of the clearing and then leaving it behind all together.
It was like playing a game of hide and seek. Every time I got close to the light, it would disappear and then reappear further into the forest. If I’d been thinking even remotely clearly, I would probably have stayed right where I was, but rationality was not part of my process. I was acting purely on impulse, letting my emotions and gut and intuition guide me forward into the darkness. Something inside of me was so sure I was doing the right thing, that it didn’t even occur to the rest of me—the rational, sensible side of me—to question it.
The little flame flickered and danced further into the trees, and I plunged after it. Having no feet of its own, the flame didn’t seem to care about the fact that there was no path. Pulling out my phone and turning on my flashlight would surely have helped me, as I stumbled and tripped along through the underbrush, but I didn’t even attempt it; I was afraid that if I took my eyes off the flame for even a second that it would vanish, and I would lose my chance to follow it and find out where it was going.
I knew I was going in the wrong direction to return to Lightkeep. I knew I didn’t know the area well, and that if that little flame disappeared again,I would most definitely be completely lost in the woods. I knew, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t care. I was too busy making sure I didn’t trip and kill myself on a tree root or get snagged in the brambles.
Once in a while, the flame would flicker and cast a shadow in such a way that made it seem like a figure was holding it. I felt no fear at this—something deep inside me was telling me that the flame was mine, and that whoever or whatever was carrying it was somehow mine, too. I felt no menace, no shiver tickling its way up my spine. Only a surety that, whatever I did tonight, I couldn’t lose sight of that flame. It was the most important thing, to follow it wherever it led me.
After maybe half an hour of walking, the trees began to thin out, and the smell of the ocean got stronger. Even if I’d been blessed with a sense of direction, I don’t think I could have anticipated where I’d come out after wandering the pitch-black forest for so long. At last I could see waving sea grass and open space out beyond the tree line, and then I noticed a shape looming up ahead, close to the cliffs. It took me a moment to recognize it, and when I did, I froze in my tracks, hesitating for the first time since setting off on this mad chase.
The flame was leading me right to the Sedgwick Cove Playhouse.
My mind began spinning. I knew I shouldn’t be here. The Playhouse had been cordoned off since the summer, and I knew that the Conclave had set up security, now that we knew the Source was located beneath. If I kept going, I would be spotted, and then I’d be in trouble. But even as I hesitated, the flame itself came to a hovering stop. It drifted back and forth just inside the tree line, but it didn’t continue toward the Playhouse. I took a few steps forward, and still, it remained where it was. My heart began to pound as I closed more and more of the distance between me and the flame. I was sure it would dart away as soon as I got too close, but it continued to let me approach. Finally, I was close enough that I could have reached out and touched the little flame. Then, with a sudden speed that made my breath catch in my throat, the flame shot toward me and rejoined the candle in a shower of sparks. The candle shook in my hand, but I managed not to drop it in my surprise. I stood for a moment, staring at it.
