As Win and I scramble over trees and rocks and jog to keep up with Orion, Rose tells us about her trip to the Archie Playgo. “Even though Mitch wasn’t there, it was good hanging out at her hut. I swam in the lagoon and had a go in her hammock.”

She says this in such an offhand way that I know she’s trying to hide how upset she is not to have found Mitch waiting for her. I decide that the best thing I can do is distract her, so as we come out of the Tangled Forest I tell her all about our trip to Boulders and Waterfalls, with Win adding some wild exaggerations.

We’re hot, dirty, and exhausted by the time we get back to the cave. Well, Win and I are. Rose slips off Orion’s back with the energy of someone who hasn’t just walked for miles, then she starts bossing us around, making us build up the fire while she says an excessively long goodbye to Orion.

He gallops off into the forest, leaving the three of us to lounge around outside the cave, toasting bread and talking about how good it is to be back in Roar.

As we talk, the sun sets and Win finds us all sleeping bags. Then we lie by the fire, the flames crackling between us, watching the rainbow stars come out.

As usual, Win is the first to drop off. Across the glowing fire I notice that Rose has a wooden box on her lap. “What’s that?” I say.

“It’s Mitch’s tattoo kit. I found it at her hut.”

She opens the box and I get out of my sleeping bag to take a closer look. Inside are feathers and tiny bottles of ink. I take one out. It’s filled with amber liquid and the label says Bud Dust—Tangled Forest. I swish it from side to side and see flecks of gold swirling in the light of the fire.

Like all merfolk, Mitch was covered in tattoos. I remember being at her hut and watching her dip a feather into one of these bottles, then draw on her skin. The ink fizzed, smoke poured from the tip of the feather, and then, somehow, the picture was permanent. I don’t know if the ink was magic, or the feather. It was just one of Mitch’s many secrets.

Tucked under the bottles of ink is a leather-bound book. Rose flicks through its pages. “It’s her spell book,” she says.

In green ink, Mitch has written the ingredients and instructions for making a range of spells with names like “Whopping Big Storm,” “Frothy Waves,” and “Wet Cat Smell.” But it’s not just spells that Mitch has put in this book. She’s filled it with colorful drawings: fish, flowers, shells, and birds are entwined across the pages in complicated designs.