Leaving Lottie and August to entertain themselves, she follows Mr. O’Connell to his small green boat. In a way, it’s nice to get away now. August and Lottie are probably talking about their soulmates, about their futures that certainly do not include her in them. She doesn’t need to hear any of that.
Mr. O’Connell is a quiet man in general, but he is utterly silent through the entire ride, answering her questions only by nodding or shaking his head. He must be exhausted after trying to fight a fire that would not die.
Her nightmare, Lottie’s nightmare, and Mr. O’Connell’s garden burning all in the same night? It could be a coincidence, but she is a witch who knows better. There are no accidents.
Not like this.
When they arrive at Mr. O’Connell’s garden, it’s nothing but a perfect rectangle of dry gray dirt. It’s a massive plot, possibly bigger than her cottage.
“This isn’t how it looked before,” he says. It’s the first thing he’s said since leaving the isle.
“What has changed?”
“The ash is gone.” He leans down and drags his fingers through the dirt. “This was pitch-black when I left. It was completely covered in ash. I swear it.”
She inhales deeply through her nose.
The air smells of her nightmare—salt and smoke. Slowly, she understands that this is the scent of ash magic. Leaning down, she runs her fingers across the dirt mixed with the remnants of the ash. Upon contact, it’s as if she is transported to a world of only darkness, and she can see nothing but a flickering light in the distance. It looks exactly like the light she has seen in the Hazelwood Forest. In an instant, the light erupts, stunning her vision. She blinks to adjust her eyes and sees a menacing old woman hovering over her, scowling down at her, readying a bolt of fire in a withered, bony hand.
It’s Versa. She burned this land, and now she must be somewhere close by with an arsenal of ash.
As the Ash Witch launches the bolt of fire, Marigold closes her eyes and screams, bracing herself for the pain. She feels a pair of strong arms picking her up, and when she opens her eyes, she is back in the garden.
“Marigold, what happened? Your eyes glazed over and you started screaming!”
She holds on to him tightly as she struggles to believe what she is seeing. Is she really here? Truly safe?
“I had a vision,” she says, her throat raw from the scream. “I saw the woman who burned your garden.” She pulls away from him and hurriedly readies a wealth of ingredients—seeds, honeys, moon water, petals and herbs of every color.
“I need to work quickly to protect you.” She paints a rune of protection in the center of the garden so Versa will not be able to reach them. And now the Ash Witch will not be able to touch the garden again.
“Can I help, miss? You deserve to be protected, too.”
At first she shakes her head, but then she pauses. “Actually, there is something you can do for me.”
Mr. O’Connell leans in, eagerly listening.
“I’m going to do my best to revive and restore the garden,” Marigold says, placing her hands on her hips. “I will probably faint once it’s done. I wanted to warn you so you don’t think I’m dead.” She can revive a handful of flowers with only a touch, but for something of this size, she must perform a ritual similar to the one she cast with her grandmother so long ago. She’ll craft a honey potion, paint healing runes in the corners of the garden, and use up her energy to bring life back to this land.
He hesitates. “Maybe you shouldn’t be doing this, then. It sounds dangerous.”
Shaking her head, she says, “Not dangerous. Just exhausting. Promise me that if I do fall unconscious after this, you’ll bring me back to Innisfree.”
“Marigold…” he says.
“Promise me.”
Sighing, he says, “I promise.”
“Excellent. Then I shall get on with it.”
Marigold wakes up on the soft green couch with Lottie, August, and Mr. O’Connell hovering so closely over her that she can see up their noses.
Mr. O’Connell really needs to trim those hairs.
“She’s waking up!” August says too loudly, and she winces.
“Don’t scream in her face, boy!” Mr. O’Connell says. It’s the loudest she has ever heard him speak.
