My dreams are broken by an earthquake. I reel back into the pillows, taking in my surroundings.

They include one laughing sister jumping on my bed.

As my pulse slows to a normal pace, I scowl. "What are you doing, Delia?"

She stops bouncing and her smile fades. "Why are you so dirty?" she asks.

I glance in the mirror by my dresser and realize I was exhausted enough that I forgot to wash my face last night. It still bears the marks of the black dust from the hidden room in the library. "I had an urge to garden last night, and went out after everyone else was asleep."

She frowns. "Midnight gardening? You are very strange, Rose."

"What are you doing here?" I sit up, swinging my legs over the edge of my bed.

"It's time for breakfast." She rolls her eyes. "Mama and Papa sent me to get you. You're late, you know."

Heat floods my cheeks. How late did I sleep? How long did we spend in the hidden room? I cannot recall. "Let me get dressed. Tell them I will be there shortly."

Delia curtsies as I frantically search for an appropriate gown. "Don't forget your face." She sticks out her tongue, then disappears into the hallway.

I splash water and lavender soap on my cheeks and scrub until I cannot see any more dust in the mirror. I just hope I don't suffer too close an inspection by our parents. Mama has a knack for noticing even the slightest speck of dirt.

Without waiting for my maid, I throw a dress over my head, tying the sash as I race down the stairs to the dining hall. All I can think is how glad I am that the book is tucked under my mattress. Nowhere else would have been safe from Delia this morning. My thoughts remain with the book more than my family when I reach the breakfast table.

"Rosabel, nice of you to join us at last," Papa says, with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He is a kind man, but years of fearing the wizard have worn him down, and he is too weary to manage a true smile.

"We hear you had some late-night gardening," Mama says, and I give a sharp look at Delia. She stares at her plate, chasing a piece of bacon with her fork.

"I—yes, I did. I'm trying to get a special new seed to grow. I thought watering them at midnight might help." The chair squeaks when I pull it out to sit down. "I'll have to see if there's any progress after breakfast."

"Watering plants at midnight?" Mama frowns. "Where would you get an idea like that?"

I smile to cover my uneasiness. "I don't recall. Must have read it in a book, I suppose."

"We spent all day in the library yesterday," Delia says.

"Really?" Papa raises an eyebrow, his suspicion that I'm disobeying them in some way no doubt rising with it.

"Yes, I wanted to know more about the seeds and the plant they'll grow into."

"Which plant?" Mama asks. I squirm in my chair, placing a biscuit next to the eggs on my plate.

"Crown-of-Roses. Ren brought me the seeds, but they're quite stubborn."

My parents exchange a glance, and Delia's mouth—open to speak—snaps closed. She looks as though she's swallowed a rotten egg. I'd almost forgotten I told her another name yesterday.

"Never heard of those," Mama mutters.

"Well," I say, scrambling for something believable, "they are rare."

Truth, or at least part of it.

"Did you find what you were looking for, sister?" Delia stabs a piece of egg.

"Not yet, I'm still looking." I turn to Papa. "When was the library built? Some of those books are very old, and I wondered where they came from."

Surprise lights Papa's eyes. I have not always shown much interest in the library or history, but today it is my favorite subject.

He chews thoughtfully before answering. "The room housing the books was built by King Henler, well over two hundred years ago. Many royal families since then have used it and added their own knowledge to it."

"Is there . . . is there anything dangerous in there?" I clear my throat. "I mean, there are a huge amount of books, and many other things in nooks and crannies."

Papa frowns. "I'm not sure I catch your meaning, my dear."

Mama, on the other hand, does, and she bristles. "You mean books about magic." She throws her napkin down. "If that is what you seek, you shall be disappointed. Once the wizards began to make a nuisance of themselves, Bryre's king had the good sense to clear all those books out."

"Too much temptation, you see," Papa adds. "Besides, now there isn't any magic to be conjured. Even if they did exist, they'd be of little use. All the magic that once was has been sucked out of the land by the wizards, and now they take it from each other." He shakes his head. "It is a sad, messy business, magic."

Something icy radiates from the base of my spine. "Good thing then they got rid of all those books." I cover by beaming at Delia. "That means I have nothing to worry about if Delia helps me in my research again."

Mama doesn't appear convinced, but Papa seems quite happy with my words. "Good—I am glad to hear you are educating yourself. It will serve you well later on, when you rule this city."

"Though you would do well to read up on history, too," Mama says. "Gardening will not get you far when you are queen."

I swallow. I've been ducking my tutor lately. Mama must have caught on to that. Maxwell isn't the brightest, but he certainly does drone on about history.

"Of course, Mama, I want to ensure my education is as broad as possible." My education would be helped considerably by being allowed to leave the palace, but I bite my tongue. I fall back into idle chatter instead. Before long, breakfast is over and Delia and I are dismissed.

I want nothing more than to head back to my room and read the book hidden under my mattress. Delia, however, has other ideas.

She stops me outside the dining hall and folds her arms over her chest. "What are Crown-of-Roses?"

I do my best not to flinch at my lie. "They're the same as the bano magus, just a newer name, that's all."

Delia frowns, but the set of her shoulders relaxes. "Are you going to the library again today?" she asks hopefully.

I shake my head. "I must study. Maxwell gave me a lot to read last week and I've been putting it off."

She pouts. "Then what am I going to do all day?"

I pinch her arm playfully. "Why don't you try doing your own lessons, hmm? Mama would be proud. Aren't you supposed to have lessons with Maxwell today, anyway?"

"I'd rather hunt for the bano magus or Crown-of-Roses or whatever they are."

"If you must, but I won't be accompanying you today."

"Fine." She stomps off down the corridor in a most unprincessly fashion and I smother my laugh for fear she will hear.

I duck down the hall and into my room, locking the door behind me. The book is in my hands in seconds. The black cover shows no sign of a title in the sunlight, but the moonlit one is still imprinted on my memory. The Origin of Wizards.

Yes, I do believe this will contain the information I need.

I draw the curtains across the windows, blocking out the sun. The pages shimmer when I open it. As long as I keep the pages out of direct sunlight, the ink shows up nearly as well as in the moonlight. I settle into a chair, tuck my legs underneath me, and begin to read.

* * * 

The knock on my door rips me from the pages that have held my full attention for longer than I expected. With hurried hands, I shove the book back under the mattress, smooth my skirts, and open the door.

Ren's smile and freshly-baked-bread scent greet me.

I shoo him inside and shut the door, locking it from the inside. I am jumpier than usual. The last chapter I read was about how wizards can enthrall humans and force them to do their will. Usually they do not even know what they have done. The enchantment makes them forget.

"Have you found anything in the book?" he asks.

"Yes, much, in fact." We settle onto the window seat together, our knees touching. His eyes glitter with curiosity. "The Wizard's Bane is not a plant. It is an ancient stone that absorbs magic. It is rumored that the stones were coughed up by the first volcano, then hoarded by fire dragons ever since."

The spark in his eyes fizzles out. "But there are no more dragons. The wizards got them all."

"That is the tricky part," I say, sighing. "That and finding a volcano."

"And getting into said volcano without being burned alive." Ren pushes off the window seat, frustration all over his face. I catch his hand on reflex and twine my fingers with his. Gooseflesh breaks out on my skin.

"Don't get discouraged yet. I was thinking it might be time to ask Old Mae. Perhaps she has heard something by now. Was she there when you went to market yesterday?"

Ren shakes his head.

"We must find her and ask her as soon as possible."

A mischievous smile creeps over Ren's face. "You want to sneak out again today, don't you?"

"More than anything, but we must be extra careful. Delia has been nipping at my heels."

"Then we should get moving before your sister realizes you're missing." He pulls me up, and we sneak through the halls into the back garden.

"Wait—I want to check on my Crown-of-Roses seeds." Together we enter the maze of hedges and wander to the hidden plot in the center. The sunflowers on the eastern side reach higher every day and now they peek over the tops of the hedges. Sunlight paints the petals of my roses a pale gold and pink, and the morning glories stretch in their daily ritual, blooming blue and bright. Everything is bursting with life—except the small patch of dirt where I planted the Crown-of-Roses.

"Nothing." I frown at the brown spot marring the rest of my green garden.

"They must be duds," Ren says. "The old woman gave you bad seeds. That's the only answer. Everything else has at least sprouted."

"Perhaps they require more time below ground than most." I'm not convincing myself, but it seems to work for Ren.

"Let's ask. If they need special care, she should've said so when you bought them."

We leave the garden behind for the old fountain and the passage it hides. I keep a constant eye out for Delia and listen for shouts from servants who may be looking for me. Mama would be so disappointed if she knew I was breaking her rules yet again, but I must.

"Do you think the king and queen will check up on you?" Ren asks.

I bite my lip. "I fear they will. Mama was especially suspicious at breakfast. I had to tell Delia I did some midnight gardening to explain the black dust on my nose."

"Midnight gardening?" Ren laughs.

I try not to join him. "Mama didn't approve." I sigh. "I hadn't even read the book yet."

"Delia's determined to know everything you do. She looks up to you."

I twist my hands as we reach the old fountain. "I know, I know. And I love her dearly. But she can't keep a secret like we need her to. Maybe when she's a little older we can take her to the market with us."

Ren moves the cherub's arm and the passage opens. "Only if your parents don't lock you in your tower for good first."

I give him a weary glance. "That isn't funny."

His face is grave for a moment too long. "No, it isn't. But if they get desperate enough, I wouldn't put it past them. Desperate people do crazy things. That's how you got into this whole mess in the first place."

"Don't remind me."

I grow silent and sullen until we step out of the church and into the sunshine of the market. Perhaps I am part plant—I need sunlight to flourish. Hiding me in the dark will only make me wither and die. If only I could make my parents understand that.

"There she is." Ren points to the familiar shape of the flower-and-plant cart.

The old woman sits on her stool, humming and tapping her fingers along to a melody only she can hear. When she sees us, she waves.

"Good afternoon, my dearies," she says. "What brings you back today? Already looking for new seeds, hmmm?" She grins and one crooked tooth hangs out over her bottom lip.

"Not today. We wondered"—I steal a glance at Ren—"if you learned anything more about the Wizard's Bane. We may have found something, but I'm not sure it's possible to pursue."

She raises a gray eyebrow and rocks back and forth. "Oh my, no, I haven't heard much. Slipped my mind, really. It's like a sieve these days."

I fend off my disappointment with another question. "We found something in the castle. A book with a title that only shows up in moonlight."

I had hoped for a reaction, but she just blinks, waiting for me to continue. "I read it—well, most of it—and found a reference to Wizard's Bane. The book says the stones originated in volcanoes and can absorb a wizard's magic. It also says that fire dragons hoarded them, and they could only be found in their lairs, which are hidden deep in volcanoes."

"That does pose a problem, doesn't it?" she says. "Fire dragons have been extinct for a hundred years at least. They were one of the first breeds to go."

I sigh. "I was afraid you might say that. Do you think one of the Wizard's Bane stones might still be around, though? We'd hoped you might know where we could find a fire dragon's lair."

"One we won't die trying to reach," Ren adds.

The old woman's eyes brighten with mischief. "You're going to sneak out of Bryre, are you? Oooh, the king will be hopping mad!" She jumps around on one foot, puzzling Ren and I exceedingly. She claps her hands together. "I may know just the thing, though no guarantees the Wizard's Bane will be there." She leans closer and whispers. "To the south, at the far end of the mountain range, is another country. I've heard a dead volcano rests there. It spewed up the whole range to begin with long, long ago. If any Wizard's Bane remains in this region, you'll find it there."

"Is it far?" I ask, while Ren shakes his head.

She shrugs. "A journey of a day or two, maybe more. Who knows who you might meet on the way." She winks.

"What do you mean?" Ren says.

"Did you think the wizard wouldn't be looking for you?" Old Mae's eyes shine in a way I don't like at all.

"People say the wizard ran off to some faraway place," I say. Everyone except my parents, that is. They fear he hovers at the edges of our lives.

Mae grins toothily. "They're wrong. But I can give you something that will help you stay undetected. You'd like that, yes?"

Ren and I exchange a look. "What is it?" I ask.

"Come with me." She motions for me to follow her down the alley behind her cart. "I'll show you."

I hesitate, then follow her. It's just Old Mae. I know her.

When Ren follows too, she stops. "Only the girl. Remain where you are, boy." Her tone is surprisingly harsh.

"What? Not a chance, I—"

"It's all right, Ren," I tell him. "We'll be back in just a minute, right?"

She nods, silver hair swirling around her face and making her seem more wild than ever.

Ren starts to say something, but then he frowns and heads back to wait at the stall. Mae takes my arm, her paper-like fingers wrapping around my elbow. It gives me the chills, which is foolish. What harm could a mere old woman do?

Ren watches us like a hawk until we round a corner in the alley. The bricks are dark and coated with soot. Public houses and shops lie beyond the walls. The faint smell of something burning lingers here, but I don't see where it comes from.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

Old Mae clucks at me, but doesn't offer an answer. I begin to wonder if Ren is right to worry, when she stops at a section of wall covered by enough soot that I can barely see the door she opens. She pulls a vial from her pocket and waves it in front of my face. "See this, dearie? It's made from a special plant. If you drink it, the wizard won't know you're out and about in the hills." She giggles. "But this isn't enough for the both of you, nor the time it will take to get there and back." She gestures to the darkness beyond the door. "There's more in there. Go on in and fill your pockets. That should do the trick."

As I stare down the darkness, an odd feeling of panic trickles over me. I squint and tilt my head, yet I can see nothing beyond the door. "What does the plant extract do exactly?" I ask.

"It dampens your signature, your unique life force. The wizard has you in his sights, that's for sure. He just can't reach you in Bryre."

The chill turns to a ball of ice. How does Old Mae know so much about the wizard? She never mentioned him in all the times we spoke before until recently. I can't help thinking of the passage I read this morning about unwitting humans under the thrall of the wizard. Something feels very wrong here. Could that something be Old Mae?

"Will there be any side effects?"

Old Mae cackles. "Beats me, dearie. Never taken the stuff. I only know it works."

"How?"

She grins so wide, I can see every speck of blackened gums between her teeth. "Do you think you're the only one who's ever crossed the wizard? Other people have had to hide on occasion, princess." She hisses on the word, and it chills me. "Go on, get the vials in there. You'll need them."

The sun moves behind a cloud, casting more darkness into the alley. "Have you ever met the wizard? Do you know what he looks like?"

"Get the vials, princess," she growls.

"I don't think I should go in there." The blackness seems to expand, like it wants to swallow me whole. Her aged hand tightens on my elbow.

"But you must," she says. "I am too old to bend over and lift them for you." I try to wrench my arm free, but she's startlingly strong. She places a hand on my back and pushes me toward the doorway. I thrash and twist, trying my best to get free of her iron grip. The odd behavior, the burst of strength—Old Mae must be in the wizard's thrall. Is it my fault this happened to her or was she under his sway all along?

"Release me!" I shout.

"Tsk, tsk," she says. "None of that. In you go."

I dig my heels in to the alleyway dirt. "What's really in there?" I am certain there are no helpful potions waiting for me. Only darkness and danger.

She laughs. "You'll find out in a moment." A crack resounds in the alley; then her face contorts from shock to anger to slack. She stumbles, releasing her grip.

Ren stands behind her, holding a flower pot, now cracked, and watches as she sinks to the ground unconscious.

"I knew she couldn't be trusted," he says. "It was too odd that she wanted you alone."

"Thank you," I say, shivering. I liked Old Mae. She seemed so harmless, but that's what happens when someone is enchanted. They seem normal until the wizard wants to use them. I rub the spot on my arm. I suspect it will bruise. This is a lesson I shall not forget.

"Let's go." Ren tugs at my hand.

We hurry back to the market, but I can't help looking over my shoulder now and then. The door she opened has completely vanished. It must have been magic.

I don't want to think ill of the old woman I thought was my friend, but I don't believe I'll ever return to the market. Not if she might be lurking here.

* * * 

I still shake by the time we reach the tunnel and Ren stops me once we're inside. "Rose," he says quietly. "Are you all right?"

I clench my fists at my sides. "I am not all right, and I'll never be all right until that wizard is out of our lives for good." I release a quivering breath. "Old Mae must be involved with him somehow, either willingly or under his thrall. I was a fool to trust her." Perhaps my parents have more reason to be afraid than I'd like to admit.

My garden—my precious garden—is now tainted by association with that woman. But it isn't the fault of the plants. I'll care for them even so.

"I trusted her too," Ren says. "I introduced you to her."

"We'll simply have to figure things out on our own." I stand up straighter. "I have faith those books can shed more light on things for us." I'll throw myself completely into the one I took when we get back.

Soon we exit into the garden. One of my rosebushes—the blush one—are in full bloom, and I pick a couple of flowers for Delia as a peace offering. However, when I get to her room, she isn't there.

Warning bells go off in my head. Where could she be? She should have been studying all morning with Maxwell.

I groan and stomp out of her room. I hope she didn't go looking for me again. After this morning, the last thing I need is a panicky little sister.

I march down the halls, racking my brain for where Delia might be. A peek out the windows reveals she is not in the maze in the back of the palace; a glance out the opposite side shows she is not out front, either. Perhaps she's in the music room.

My steps slow. I've been neglecting my younger sister. We used to play together all the time. I would play harpsichord, and she would sing. Sometimes one of us would take a turn at the harp.

First my garden grew between us, now my festering obsession with stopping the wizard. Yet I cannot stop trying. Mama and Papa gave up their efforts to stop him years ago. I snort. Unless you count hiding me away.

I do not.

Their problem was that they were so blinded by fear that they would not resort to magic. They feared that would mean another wizard, another person who would deceive them. I suppose I cannot blame them too much, but I am determined to find an alternative to hiding.

They may have kept me alive this long, but it is hardly a life at all.

I make my way to the music room. I'm not ready to consider that Delia could be with Mama and Papa.

When I enter, she sits at the harpsichord, picking out a mournful tune. She doesn't glance up, not even when I stop in front of the instrument and place my hands on the lid.

"Delia." I say softly.

She pounds on the keys a little harder.

"Is something wrong?"

This time she slams the lid of the harpsichord, nearly catching my fingers. She moves to the harp. The light streaming through the windows makes her appear positively angelic as she sits down.

My heart sinks in my chest. I hope she didn't do something very bad for me.

I stride over to her and pluck her hand away from the strings, holding it firmly in mine.

"Delia, why are you acting like this? What has made you so angry?"

She cannot hide her scowl as she yanks her hand from my grasp. She returns to playing the harp.

"Maxwell taught me a section on plants today. I asked him if he had ever heard of a bano magus."

I suck my breath in sharply. I never should've told her that lie. Stupid, stupid me.

"Maxwell says it is no plant he has ever heard of, and definitely doesn't mean Crown-of-Roses. In fact, he says the term means something else—something you didn't mention." Her eyes turn to mine, glaring. "He says it means Wizard's Bane."

I stare numbly out the window, watching the hedges rustle in the warm afternoon breeze. Sometimes it makes the creatures carved in the hedge seem to dance.

"Then you understand why I didn't tell you."

She shoots up, knocking over the bench. "No, I do not. Why don't you trust me?"

Anger ripples through me. "Why must you insist on knowing every single thing I do? Why can't you worry about your own life?"

I ball my fists in my skirts. I regret the words even though they are barely out of my mouth.

Tears well up in Delia's eyes. "Because you're my sister, and I'm scared I'm going to lose you." She runs from the room. I start to follow, but I know she doesn't want me to. How can I expect her to respect my need for privacy when I can't respect hers? Taking a seat on the harpsichord bench, I rest my head on the lid.

It's an unpleasant business, but my choice is to either shut her out, or let her in entirely. She won't agree to half measures and half-truths.

Worse, she knows my secrecy has something to do with the wizard.

After almost getting kidnapped or drugged or who knows what by Old Mae, I need rest. Then I'll be able to make sense of this, and a sensible decision.

Unless, of course, Delia hasalready told Mama and Papa. I just pray she has not.