Flo squeezed Mucum’s shoulder. What was the point in arguing? “And Oi can speak for all us Rootshooters to say we be on yowr side!”

“I’m not sure,” said Ark. He’d never thought of himself as a leader before.

“Being certain of your ability would take half the fun out of it.” Corwenna spoke lightly, even though she could see the dangers ahead. “And I have faith in you.”

Strange, thought Ark. That’s just what Warden Goodwoody would have said. A reverend and the Queen of the Ravens in agreement. The wood really was going topsy-treevy.

Corwenna nodded. “Maybe those prayers were heard. The answer lies not in miracles, but in action!”

Ark thought of how he’d lived a whole lifetime in the last few days alone. “Well. I’ve come this far. I’m not going to give up now.”

Mucum finally gave in. “Oh, all right, then, count me in. Jes’ don’t expect me to call yer sir!”

“Now there’s an idea,” said Ark. “Sir has a rather lovely ring to it!”

Corwenna clapped her hands with glee. “The trees feed on light, and so have you, young Malikum. I do believe this intense young man is finally lightening up! Trust me, humor should be part of your armory.”

“Flippin’ fungus!” Mucum complained. “Not only is ‘e gonna tell me what to do, but I also ’ave to laugh at ‘is sappy jokes?”

“Sounds about right!” Ark grinned.

“I have grown fond of your stubbornness, young Master Gladioli, but I suggest you start thinking seriously about what lies ahead of you.” The quiet menace in her tone was unmistakable.

Mucum got the message. “Righty-ho, Yer Maj! We finally gonna ’ave a proper fight?”

“Yes.” Corwenna sighed, keeping her fears to herself. Ark was hers. Wasn’t it a mother’s duty to keep her child safe? But if the foundling boy could not face the ultimate danger, Arborium would be lost.

Ark tied the leather necklace around his throat to secure the phial. Where the bottle rested, his skin felt itchy and clammy. It was impossible. But so was everything that had happened since he’d overheard the plot.

Shiv jumped up and down with excitement. “Can we have a battle. A big one. Please?”

“Oh yeah!” said Mucum, crunching his knuckles. “About buddy time!”

38• PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT

Fenestra’s words echoed around Petronio’s head. I will never again treat you as a mere messenger. Then what was he doing creeping home, every footstep accompanied by a nagging ache in his chest?