The sapling had been sulking in the backseat since we’d yanked it out of Harlowe. It groaned when the car turned, sighed when we hit potholes, and occasionally released a puff of glowing spores that made me sneeze. The air inside the car smelled like wet moss and burnt jam. By the time Elly guided us to the reservoir outside town, my nerves were shot.

  “This is it?” I asked, eyeing the stone walls that surrounded the still water. Although, it did look a little creepy with the way that the water reflected the orange haze of streetlamps, mixing with the pale moonlight. “Kind of anticlimactic.”

  Elly’s jaw was tight. “It’s the biggest body of fresh water inside city limits. Jade said deliver, so we deliver. We don’t ask why.”

  “She also said don’t look down, whatever that means…”

  Elly shrugged.

  I glanced at the bundle of silver-green leaves curling out of the trunk. “Feels like we should’ve asked why.”

  “We should’ve asked a hundred questions, but here we are.”

  Elly parked under a broken light. The night pressed in around us, the reservoir eerily still and quiet except for the hum of distant traffic. We wrestled the thing out together, its roots trailing like wet ropes. Some of the tendrils had tried to root into the fabric upholstery of the trunk, smearing dirt and worms across the seats in protest.

  The tree didn’t want to move. It shivered and moaned like we were dragging it toward execution. By the time we reached the edge if the reservoir, my arms burned from the weight, my sneakers were soaked, and Elly’s breathing was ragged, her pale cheeks flushed from the effort.

  “Ready?” she asked, voice sharp.

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  We heaved it into the water.

  The sapling hit with a splash, sank halfway… and then thrashed. Its roots whipped like eels, slapping the surface, sending ripples racing across the reservoir. Silver leaves curled and blackened. Blossoms shriveled in seconds, petals peeling away to reveal rotted cores. The fruits popped one by one, spewing out clouds of spore-smoke that dissolved into nothing.

  I staggered back, coughing. “That… doesn’t look right.”

  Elly swore. Loudly. In at least three languages. “No, no, no—this isn’t right.”

  The sapling let out a sound that wasn’t a sound at all—a pressure in my skull, a keening grief that rattled my teeth. It writhed once more, then went slack, floating like a drowned body.

  I knelt beside it, reaching instinctively. “We can—”

  “Don’t—!” Elly shouted, but too late.

  My fingers brushed the wet bark. For a moment it was cool, like marble. Then sap oozed out, thick and stinking, searing across my skin.

  “Shit!” I yanked my hand back. The sap hissed where it touched me, raising blisters in angry lines across my palm and fingers. My null field should have stopped magic, but this wasn’t magic—it was chemistry, acidic and burning, and it didn’t care about my so-called immunity.

  Elly grabbed me, dragging me back from the water. “Let me see!”

  I hissed between my teeth, cradling my hand. Red streaks laced up my wrist where the sap had splattered.

  She tore a strip from the lining of her jacket, wrapping it tight around my palm. The fabric smelled faintly of sage and iron filings. “You idiot. I told you not to touch it.”

  “You said, ‘don’t,’ and not much else.”

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  “In that situation, it means the same damn thing, you lummox.”

  “I didn’t get that part,” I gritted out. “All I heard was ‘Daniel, do the heavy lifting while I look stylish.’”

  Her eyes flicked up, sharp with fear. “This isn’t funny.”

  “If I’m not laughing, then I’m crying.” I shut my mouth. The pain was real, hot, deep—like someone had pressed lit matches into my skin.

  Elly finished the wrap with a knot, hands shaking. “How bad?” she asked quietly.

  I didn’t answer right away. My hand throbbed under the cloth, pulse matching the ache. Finally, I said, “Feels like I lost a fistfight with a jellyfish.”

  “Jellyfish don’t have fists.”

  “That’s why it hurts so much when they punch you.” I grunted through the agony.

  “You’re not supposed to get hurt. This was supposed to work.”

  “I got cut by the Threshkin too. Your hoodie charms didn’t stop it.”

  Her eyes snapped back to me. “Without them, you’d be missing more than skin… maybe a whole arm. Magic like this works like vitamins, Daniel. They don’t stop the sickness, but they blunt it. You think you’re untouchable because of your null, but you’re not. You’re vulnerable in ways you don’t even see.”

  Her voice wavered on the last word, but she didn’t look away. The glow from the nearest streetlight carved her face into hard edges—cheekbones sharp, eyes wide, fear disguised as anger.

  We both stood there lamely, the night air smelling faintly of algae and ozone. The water was so still it looked like glass, except for the occasional bubble rising from where the sapling had sunk.

  Elly shook her head, muttering in what I assumed was Elvish, the syllables like broken glass. “This was supposed to work. Water is water—unless…” She trailed off, pacing at the edge, her boots crunching gravel.

  I slumped against the guardrail, watching the tree bob limply in the dark water. It looked dead. Maybe it was.

  “This is a setup,” she said finally, her voice trembling with fury. “Jade knew. She knew we would fail.”

  “She wouldn’t waste her own favors like that.” I tried to flex my fingers; the pain made my vision blur. “Would she?”

  “She’d waste you if it meant drawing out what she wants.” Elly ran both hands through her hair, tugging until the glamour flickered, ears sharpening before she forced them flat again. “She wanted you bloody. She wanted me desperate.”

  I pushed myself up. “So now what?”

  Her eyes cut to mine, burning. “Now I call in help.”

  She pulled out her phone, scrolling fast. Her lips moved as she muttered curses under her breath. “I sent pictures to a contact of mine, a lady deep into exotic herbs and plants. She knew what it was.”

  “What’s the verdict?”

  “It belongs to Gorgons. It’s their kind of tree.”

  “Of course.” My stomach twisted. “Which means Jade planned this from the start. To drag in Eury.”

  “Yes.” Her voice cracked like a whip. “And you don’t even see it, do you? Every task she gives us—every breadcrumb—is bait. She’s building a circle around you. Us.”

  I shifted, swallowing hard. “You really think Jade wants Eury in this mess too?”

  “Yes. And she’ll get her.” Elly jabbed the call button with her thumb. “Because I can’t fix this without her.”

  The phone rang once. Twice.

  “Come on,” Elly muttered.

  On the third ring, a smooth, cool voice answered. “Elly. You only call me when you want something unpleasant.”

  Elly exhaled, shoulders tight. “Eury. We need you.”

  I turned, staring at the reservoir. The sapling bobbed once, then sank with a soft glug, vanishing into black. The water rippled outward, glowing faintly for a moment before fading back into dull concrete reflection.

  I muttered under my breath, “This isn’t going to end well.”

  Behind me, Elly’s voice was brittle, already negotiating with our last line of defense. And my burned hand pulsed like a warning I didn’t yet know how to read.