“We need to hide the books,” Larran said, staring at the warship.
She loved that that was the first thing he said. “Yes.”
“I’ll make a false wall,” Larran decided. “Hide the bookshelves.”
She’d toyed with that idea as a long-term solution, but she hadn’t thought they’d need it so quickly. “Can that be done before they dock?”
The answer was no. She could see it in his eyes, but he refused to say it. “I can try.” He took her hand, and they hurried down the stone jetty toward the beach. “As a bonus, it will add insulation to the house, which should help in winter.”
She wanted to laugh. Or cry. After Radane, she’d thought that she’d be safe, but she should have known— Oh no, Radane! “They aren’t here for me and my little remedies.” How could they be? Word hadn’t spread that far that fast. No one beyond Caltrey knew or cared that she’d healed a few trees and a merbaby, and only Fenerer had been fussy about any of it. She doubted he had the contacts to summon a warship. “They’re here for Radane. We need to warn her.”
Together, they reached the beach.
“You warn her, and I’ll start on the walls?” Larran suggested.
It would take a bit of time before the imperials sniffed out the jam shop, but Radane was right there in the village bakery, exposed. “Remember to warn Ivor when you get to the top of the cliff,” Kiela said. “Please tell Caz and Meep to hide in the forest. Insist on no heroics. If the imperials don’t find what they’re looking for, they might start sniffing around for a consolation prize, and that’s when we’ll be in danger.”
Larran kissed her. “Be careful. Come to the cottage as soon as you can.”
She raced toward the village while Larran took the stairs two at a time. She ran past the fountain, which bubbled and burbled, to the bakery. Empty —no one at the tables outside, no one behind the counter or back with the ovens. “Bryn? Radane? Tobin?”
Voices came from the direction of the dock. Leaving the bakery, she jogged through the streets toward the harbor. Ahead, a crowd had gathered to watch the sparkling imperial ship with its three masts and red sails come into the harbor. Seagulls circled above it, and waves from its wake caused every anchored and docked ship to bob in an undulating rhythm. Kiela squeezed between the crowd until she reached Radane and Bryn at the edge of the dock.
Bursting through, she grabbed Radane’s hand. “What are you doing?” Kiela demanded. “You need to—I don’t know . . . Hide? Come up with a cover story?” She noticed belatedly that Bryn was holding Radane’s other hand, and they were standing very close together. She wondered what had transpired since they’d all built the bookshelves together. Stay focused. She shouldn’t be here.
“It’ll be okay,” Bryn said. “I admit I’d thought we’d have more time to spread the story that she’s been here for years, but Caltreyans like to—”
“It won’t work,” Radane said.
“You don’t know that,” Bryn said.
Radane shook her head. “I know that ship. Its captain—I have known him since I was eight years old. He is the man my parents wanted me to marry. As soon as he sees me, the lie will be exposed.”
Releasing her hand, Bryn repeated, “Marry?”
“Neither of us wanted it,” Radane said firmly. “We both agreed we were not suited for each other. But he would absolutely recognize me on sight.”
Kiela felt their plan crumble around them. Radane was right—if the captain knew her, then it wouldn’t matter how many townspeople swore that she’d been on the island for years. What would the imperials do when they saw Radane? Would they blame the Caltreyans for harboring her? And what would they do to Radane? This is worse than I thought. “What will he do?”
“It depends which side he’s working for—the ones who want to kill me or the ones who want to use me.” Her shoulders sagged. “I guess I am about to find out.”
Closer to the dock, the ship was even more massive than it had appeared, and the white-and-gold hull gleamed in the sunlight. Kiela saw the soldier-sailors swarming over the rigging, preparing to drop anchor in the deeper water of the central harbor. She calculated they’d have a few minutes while they secured the ship and then a few more while the sailors rowed to the dock in one of the multiple dinghies attached to the sides of the warship.
“We need a new plan,” Kiela said. She had magic on her shelves, didn’t she? If she could just find the right book, then surely, they could read their way out of danger. She wished they had a bit more time . . .
“Let’s get out of sight,” Bryn suggested. “We can talk inside the bakery.”
As the ship dropped anchor in the harbor, Bryn hooked her arm around Radane’s, and they strolled purposefully and not-suspiciously off the dock. As the three of them headed for the bakery, questions flew around them—“Where are you going? Don’t you want to see?” And “Who is it? Why are they here?” And “Is it a sorcerer? Have they finally sent one?”
In response to every question, Bryn repeated the same answer: She was going to make more baked goods. The new arrivals would be hungry, and she wanted to make sure her bakery was ready. She didn’t know if it was a new sorcerer. She didn’t know any more than they did, except that everyone likes baked goods so that’s what she was going to make. Probably muffins, because they’re quick. Yes, she’d use Kiela’s jam.
Kiela listened to the gossip swirl and determined the consensus was that the emperor had at last sent his sorcerers out on circuit. They were coming to end the storms, fix the islands, and unravel the mess they’d made. So far, no one had linked the ship to their resident ex-investigator, but she was certain it was just a matter of time before the words popped out of someone’s mouth and then spread.
At last, they ducked into the bakery and shut the door.
“It could be a coincidence,” Bryn said as she pulled the shutters over the windows. “You don’t know they’re looking for you, and you were caught in a storm, blown off course—they shouldn’t have any idea you’re here.”
“Even if it is a coincidence and they are not here for me, once they see me—” Radane shook her head. “I need that invisibility spell.”
“It’s not a true invisibility spell,” Kiela cautioned. She’d read the description when Radane had confessed in the cave. “It’s more of a stealth spell. It’s supposed to make your footsteps quieter and your appearance fuzzier. I don’t know if it’ll stand up to direct scrutiny. Plus I can’t guarantee it will work at all. We’ve never tried it.”
Radane began to pace back and forth in front of the bakery counter. “If they suspect my presence at all, they will search for me relentlessly. You don’t know how thorough imperial soldiers can be. They will turn over every rock on the island.”
“It’s a very poorly named spell, if anyone searching for you can still find you.” Bryn positioned herself in front of Radane and caught her in her arms mid-pace. Radane sagged against her.
Kiela had an idea. “What if they didn’t? Search, I mean.”
Both of them looked at her.
“Your ship sank, right?” Kiela said. “What if we spread the word that you drowned with it? Larran never saved you. You never reached Caltrey. If they believe that’s true, they won’t have any reason to search the island. We can hide you with a combination of the invisibility spell and the island caves until they leave.”
“I like it,” Bryn said, “but too many people know she didn’t drown, and there’s not enough time to spread the word to everyone. With my family, we had months to establish my new truth, but with only a few minutes, someone could spill the truth without ever knowing they’re causing problems. But . . .” Now it was her turn to pace, talking as she walked and waving her hand excitedly. “Why not a smaller lie, one that it’s plausible that not everyone would know, that doesn’t contradict anything? A woman was rescued. She claimed to be an imperial investigator. All I have to do is say that you left, after having found nothing. Who’s to say it’s not true? Especially if no one can find you. You could have left.”
“Yes!” Radane said. “Tell everyone that I left after I failed to find any evidence of wrongdoing. While you are spreading that, Kiela will assist me in casting the invisibility spell.” She turned hopefully to Kiela. “If you are willing?”
“Obviously, yes,” Kiela said. How was that even a question? She thought of Larran rushing out into the storm when he spotted the floundering ship and wondered if this was how he had felt. If there was a way to help, she had to try. “One complication: we’ll need the spellbook to cast it, but if you’re seen going up to my cottage, then that’s the first place the imperials will look. We won’t have time to perfect the spell.” Every spell she’d tried had required significant research and experimentation first—look at the singing tree, the apple-blossom bird, and Meep. “We need to buy as much time as possible. Is there a less visible way up the cliff?”
Bryn twisted her apron in her hands anxiously and shook her head. “Not unless you can fly, scale vertical rocks, or swim up a waterfall.”
“What about Ivor? Could he fly us—”
Cracking a shutter open, Radane peeked out the window down the street. “The ship is anchored,” she reported. “Sails down. I cannot be here.”
“You’ll go in disguise, dressed as me.” Bryn ducked into a back room and emerged with a pile of clothes and aprons. “Anyone who sees you will assume you’re going to purchase more jam for the muffins. That’s perfectly plausible, isn’t it? So many muffins would require a lot of jam. I’ll start baking them, act as casual and innocent as possible, while you—”
“It won’t work,” Radane said. “We are too dissimilar in both size and demeanor.” But she began pulling on a pair of flour-dusted pants and tying an apron around her waist.
“It could work,” Kiela said. Everyone was at the dock, gawking at the new arrivals. They wouldn’t be watching the bakery or the cliff stairs. “You only need to pass at a distance.”
Bryn pulled out a handkerchief and tied it around Radane’s hair, tucking the red behind the fabric. After studying her for a moment, she piled on extra aprons to make her silhouette rounder. “Everyone’s attention is on the ship. They won’t look that closely at you.”
“You do not know that,” Radane said.
“Then I’ll create a distraction,” Bryn said. “I’ll . . . lob muffins at them. I don’t know. I’ll think of something. All you need to do is make it out of town, and I’ll—”
Eadie barged in through the bakery door, her horse hindquarters bashing against the doorframe. She leveled a finger at Radane. “You! Imperial investigator! You said you’d quit. Was that a lie? Did you call your people here for our Kiela? Because we won’t let you—Why are you wearing so many aprons?”
Our Kiela. Kiela felt herself blush. She’d never had anyone rush to her rescue before.
Radane fixed a gaze on the centaur. “Why would anyone come for Kiela? She was born and raised in Caltrey and has never left. There is no reason she would be of any interest to anyone from the capital.”
Startled at the lie, Eadie stared at her. “You didn’t summon our new arrivals?”
“I did not,” Radane said firmly.
“She didn’t,” Bryn echoed. “In fact, it would be great if word spread that after failing to find anything suspicious and announcing her retirement, the former imperial investigator left the island just this morning. Shame they missed her, but we don’t know where she went.”
“Ah,” Eadie said. “Brilliant. I’ll spread the word. What else do you need from me?”
“A distraction,” Kiela said. “We have to get Radane up to my cottage without anyone knowing she’s left the bakery. She’s going dressed as Bryn.”
Eadie looked her up and down and sniffed. “It’ll hold up from a distance.” She pivoted, and her hooves clattered as she clomped out of the bakery. “Ulina, we need everyone at the docks, not just the nosy masses, but every Caltreyan in the village. Our new arrivals need to be greeted with fanfare! Let’s roll out a welcome worthy of the first visiting sorcerer in years.”
Ulina’s voice drifted in from outside. “Ooh, you think they really sent a sorcerer?”
“Honestly, no, but they should have.” From the street, Eadie bellowed at the few islanders who weren’t already gawking at the ship. “To the docks! Everyone, to the docks! Let’s show our new sorcerer how we say ‘welcome’ on Caltrey!”
Bryn finished tucking in Radane’s hair. She didn’t look anything like Bryn close-up, Kiela thought, but with the clothes, the apron, and the handkerchief, it could work? “We’ll move quickly. Pretend it’s a jam emergency.”
Radane let out a slightly hysterical giggle. “Jam emergency.”
“Just please be careful,” Bryn said. “I can’t lose you before we even know what we have. It’s too—” She was going to say more, but Radane kissed her. Bryn kissed her back just as urgently, the kind of kiss shared by desperate people who aren’t sure they’ll see each other again.
Giving them a moment, Kiela checked the street. Eadie and Ulina were herding everyone toward the dock, but she didn’t know how long that would last. She waited until the tail end of the crowd was out of sight before she said, “I’m sorry, but we have to go.”
“You must be careful too,” Radane told Bryn. “Consider that an imperial order.”
“Go,” Bryn said, and her voice cracked on the word.
Kiela and Radane darted out of the bakery. They crossed the square, past the fountain, and through the empty streets. Kiela kept an eye on the houses, but she saw no one, only the winged cats on the rooftops.
A few precious minutes later, they reached the beach and climbed the cliff stairs. Radane clutched her handkerchief, keeping her bright red hair tucked in. Kiela hoped that no one was watching them. All eyes should be on the ship in the dock. After all, this was the most exciting thing to happen on Caltrey in seasons, and it would make sense for everyone to be there to observe the spectacle, especially with Eadie herding them together. Hopefully, that would buy them time to perfect the spell. If it didn’t . . .
They ran across the field and through the greenery. Kiela was panting by the time they reached the cottage. She ran inside to find Larran with Caz in the bedroom, nailing planks of wood over the bookshelves. Only a quarter was finished.
This isn’t going to work, she thought. The wood was too fresh, the construction too new, plus even if they could doctor the boards to seem old, there were still the windows, sunken back from the shelves, a dead giveaway that the walls were thicker than they should be. We need another solution. But first, she had to deal with the immediate problem of Radane. Kiela darted to the bookcase that she knew held the right spellbook. “Caz, research mode. We need to perfect the invisibility spell that uses Radane’s ruby.”
Larran paused mid-hammering. “Invisibility spell?”
“The captain of the ship knows me,” Radane said. “If he sees me, it’s over.”
“So he can’t see you,” Larran said.
“Exactly,” Kiela said. “The spell isn’t the perfect solution, but it’s all we have. If we cast it and stash her in a cave or someplace the soldiers have no reason to look—”
Radane stood for a moment, as if frozen.
“What’s wrong?” Kiela asked.
“It’s just . . .” She gulped in air. “When I escaped, there was no one to help me. I had to . . . I did it all on my own. But all of you, who have known me for only a few days . . . My family wouldn’t have done this, and you don’t hesitate.”
“Family isn’t always the people you’re related to,” Larran said. He added the next board in front of the shelves and began hammering it into position. “Mine . . . Anyway, how much time do we have?”
“Not enough,” Radane said.
“Found it,” Caz said. Using his leaves, he flipped it open. He, Radane, and Kiela crowded around the bed to read the spell. It required a ruby, which Radane had, but it also called for a snow flower, which wasn’t native to Caltrey, and lightning-struck sand, which she didn’t know where to find, especially on short notice.
“Well, this is a problem,” Kiela said. “Do you have the other ingredients?”
“I was hoping the ruby would be enough for at least a partial effect,” Radane said. “It wasn’t, which is why the two plants were able to capture me.”
That was a detail that Radane could have mentioned at any point between the bakery and the cottage. Fine. It’s fine. We can handle this. Kiela asked Larran, “Do you know where lightning has struck sand?”
He spread his hands. “I don’t know that there were any lightning strikes on Caltrey with the last storm. And I haven’t heard of any hitting the beaches recently. It happened once—the sand turned to glass. Looked like a sculpture. Someone may have kept a shard of it, but I don’t know who. If there were more time, we could ask around . . .”
“Help me check the garden for any snow flowers?” Caz asked Kiela.
“Can you research substitutes for lightning sand?” she asked Radane. She didn’t know if Radane knew how to properly research anything, but she had been a student so she should understand the basics. “At least make a start. I’ll be right back.”
Leaving Larran to the fake walls and Radane to the spellbooks, Kiela followed Caz out into the garden. Meep was there, tossing bits of bread to the chicken, and then dodging out of the way when the chicken tried to peck them instead.
“What is it?” Kiela asked Caz. He didn’t need her help to search for snow flowers. He knew far better than she did which plants were which.
“We need to talk Radane into another plan,” Caz said. “Even if we had all the ingredients, I don’t like the idea of trying a spell we’ve never done, especially with imperials in town. There’s too much that could go wrong. Instead of saving Radane, we could be turning their attention directly on all of us. It would be a lot better if we could use a spell we’ve tested.”
She agreed with that, but it wasn’t as if they had an enormous repertoire. Curing storm sickness wasn’t applicable, and the pine cone remedy wasn’t going to hide anyone. “Making trees healthy isn’t going to help, unless you want to pelt the imperials with fruit.”
“No, but this has an extremely low probability of working.”
He was right.
We need a Plan B. Or C. But what . . . ?
Kiela saw one of the small cloud bears flit from beneath the raspberry bushes and disappear in between the roots of the tree. Huh. She crossed to the garden and knelt next to the tree. She touched the mossy roots. “Tree guardian? Hello? Can I ask you a question?”
She didn’t expect it to reappear, and she leapt back when a cloud taller than she was formed into the loose shape of a massive bear.
“Oh. Hello. Thanks.” She licked her lips and told herself to sound calm. “Um, how do you stay hidden?”
“They’re basically made of clouds,” Caz said behind her. “I don’t think their technique is applicable to flesh-and-blood humans.”
Maybe. Maybe not. But all the folktales about so-called evil forest spirits . . . they centered around people who disappeared: men or women who wandered into the woods and didn’t return, kids who vanished when they strayed from home, an old woman who was lured from the safety of her garden. Their loved ones searched, but it was as if they’d disappeared. A few tales emphasized how hard the searchers tried to find them. The few who returned couldn’t explain where they’d been. How was that accomplished? Could it be done by a friendly forest spirit for a benevolent reason? Assuming they were friendly . . . They are, she thought. She believed that. “A friend of mine needs to hide. Can you help?”
Caz scooted closer to Kiela. “Are you sure this is wise?”
“It’s no more dangerous than using an untested spell with inaccurate ingredients,” Kiela whispered back. “Besides, we helped them. Perhaps they still feel some gratitude?”
“They already paid us,” Caz said. “Remember the piles of supplies?”
“I can make more remedies,” Kiela told the cloud bear. “I’ll do it anyway if I’m not hauled off by the imperials for harboring a fugitive. Please, is there a way to hide my friend?”
Right in front of Kiela and Caz, the massive cloud bear melted into the bark. Just . . . melted. It slid directly into the wood as if the tree were absorbing it. A second later, it slid out and waited, looking down at her with its fire eyes.
“You could hide her in a tree?” Kiela asked.
Could it be done? She’d never heard of it, but just because she hadn’t read about it yet didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. She wanted to ask if this was how it had been in the tales, to take notes on the process, and then search the texts, but for now . . .
Behind them, the cactus chirped, “Meep!”
“Meep will bring Radane,” Caz translated.
Neither Kiela nor Caz moved from their spot. They kept their eyes on the forest spirit. Could they trust a wild grizzly bear made of clouds? I followed them into the woods, and they didn’t harm me. Yes, the old folktales said they were amoral, dangerous, and unfriendly, but to her, they’d been friendly, and if this was how they made people disappear, then this could be the exact solution they needed.
She heard Radane and Larran come outside.
“What is it? Are the soldiers here already?” Radane asked.
“This might sound like an unusual idea . . .” Kiela began. Possibly a terrible idea. Or a brilliant one. “Unusual” was a fair enough word.
Radane halted. “Is that . . . Oh, wow, I’ve heard of them. I didn’t think they let humans see them.” Her voice was hushed, as if she were afraid a loud sound would frighten it away.
“I think this cloud bear can help hide you,” Kiela said.
“What? How?”
The cloud bear demonstrated once again, slipping within a tree. Out of the corner of her eye, Kiela saw that other cloud bears had filtered into the garden—they lurked on the roof, between the vines, and on top of the chicken coop.
Radane shook her head. “I’m solid. Flesh and blood. I can’t disappear into a tree—Oh, whoa.” The other bears flowed toward her, surrounding her in their cloudlike bodies.
Caz hopped on his soil ball anxiously. “This won’t hurt her, will it? I feel like there should be a lot more explanation. Or experimentation. Can we test this first?”
Radane looked at Kiela. “Do you trust them?”
Do I? She knew they’d want her to continue to make and use the remedies. But more than that . . . they’d allowed her to see a unicorn. “I have no idea if this is safe. I don’t know how it works. I don’t know what they intend or how to reverse it. But I do know they’re willing to help. And I know we need help.”
“So, you are saying it’s a risk,” Radane said.
“Trusting anyone is a risk,” Kiela said. “But it’s better than doing it alone.” She looked over her shoulder at Larran, who had come into the garden too. The chicken was pecking at his boot. He shook his foot gently to dislodge her.
Radane eyed the cloud bears. “What about the spellbooks? I should help you finish hiding them . . .”
“I have a plan for that,” Kiela said. What Caz had said about using a spell they already knew had given her an idea. “And bonus: if it works, I’ll be able to make a lot more jam.”
“Oh, in that case, fantastic.” Radane rolled her eyes.
She thought about telling Radane it would be okay, that it was a better idea than an untested spell, that the forest spirits seemed friendly, but she didn’t know if any of that was true. This had to be Radane’s choice. Kiela wasn’t sure what she’d do, if their positions were reversed. It depended whether Radane was more afraid of the forest spirits or of the imperials—
“Let us do it,” Radane told the spirits.
The cloud bears swarmed her. Kiela could barely see Radane between the blur of their fog-like bodies. Larran jogged up toward the tree, stopping beside Kiela. He was tense, as if ready to dive in after Radane if she called out or screamed, and Kiela didn’t doubt he’d do it.
But the cloud bears melted softly like snow under spring weather.
In seconds, the bears—and Radane—had vanished.
“Wow, that’s disconcerting,” Caz said. He shivered and all his leaves rattled.
The cactus agreed. “Meep.”
“Do we hide you the same way?” Larran asked.
Kiela shook her head. “It’ll be less suspicious if only one new arrival has disappeared. What we need is for them to go away quickly. Besides, so long as they don’t find the spellbooks, they won’t want me.” Briefly she considered asking the cloud bears to hide the books as well, but given that books were made from dead trees, that didn’t seem wise—she had no idea how they’d react. “We just have to hide the books.”
“What’s your plan?” Caz asked.
She pointed toward the brambles. “Raspberries. A lot of raspberries.”