“I can handle that.” I lifted my finger and created a spark spell, sending a tiny bolt to the floor. It hissed and a tuft of smoke curled into the air before it went out. “You’re welcome to stay here.”
He launched himself at me, landing in my lap with his claws digging into my dress.I’m going.
“I appreciate the company.”
I climbed up onto the railing and tumbled off.
We plunged down toward the ground before the spell caught, jerking us upward with enough force to make my teeth click together. Acorn’s claws went through fabric and into skin.
I adjusted our trajectory, aiming for a path below the canopy. The mop responded sluggishly, drifting left when I wanted right, climbing when I tried to level out.
We’re going to die,Acorn said.
“We’re not going to die.”
The witch said with confidence false, as the mop beneath them starts to waltz.
“Stop narrating.”
We hit a thick tree line too fast. I pulled up, barely clearing the first massive trunk. Branches whipped past on either side. The mop bucked underneath me, fighting my directional commands.
I threaded us through gaps between trees, keeping our altitude low enough that I could see the ground. The northern creek lay roughly half a day’s walk from the compound. By air, assuming I didn’t crash, it would take significantly less time to reach it.
The mop lurched sideways.
Acorn made a sound I’d never heard from him before.
I corrected course, my hands white-knuckled on the handle, and focused on not crashing.
We arrived at the creek, and I brought us down near the bank, touching ground with both feet. When I sat, Acorn peeled himself off my bodice one claw at a time.
Never again.
“Aw, you had fun. Admit it.”
He scowled.
I stood, brushing dirt and bits of grass from my skirt, and surveyed the area. The northern tributary creek burbled over smooth stones, exactly as I remembered. Dense forest pressedclose on all sides. Morning light filtered through the canopy in scattered patches.
I pulled sample vials from my tote and got to work.
The first duskburst plant I found grew near the water’s edge, its purple and white flowers bright when compared to the dark soil. I collected a specimen, noting the root structure and placement. Definitely not native. The soil composition felt wrong, the exposure incorrect.
Someone had planted this here.
I moved upstream, searching carefully, finding two more plants within fifty yards, both planted in the same way as the first. I sketched their locations in my notebook, starting to see a pattern I couldn’t quite map from this vantage point.
My enchanted pen hovered beside me, recording observations as I dictated them.
“Multiple specimens, deliberate placement, unknown purpose.” I crouched near another plant, examining the soil. “I’m finding no apparent connection to a contamination source, but geographic correlation suggests?—”
Crashes and the snap of sticks rang out from the forest to my right.
I froze.
Acorn went absolutely still beside me.
A bear lumbered out of the woods. Enormous, it would be twice my height when it rose on its rear legs. Dark fur rippled over muscles as it swung its head toward us.
