A bright light began at the lamprey’s eyes and spread down him in a pattern of scales and lightning. A sound like a rumble of thunder roared, and all at once, the mirrors shattered. Glass blasted in every direction, followed by the water bursting out. Tadg was swept across the forest floor like a limp piece of algae.

He coughed, clinging to the lamprey’s side. Barclay could see what Tadg meant now, when he called his Nathermara a monster. He was massive and hideous and terrifying—not at all like Root.

The lamprey shrieked again. Barclay got the sense that he was shrieking at Tadg.

Tadg grimaced at him. The serpent writhed as he faded and returned to his Mark, and when he disappeared, he left the Woods eerily quiet except for the rain. Then Root let out a second howl, and the rain lightened into a drizzle and stopped altogether.

“Who names a monster like that Mar-Mar?” Barclay asked, wringing out his hair and clothes.

“My father,” Tadg answered darkly. “Now let’s go catch his real killer.”

TWENTY-FOUR

The forest pathways began to slope downward, like they were descending deeper and deeper into the Woods.

Barclay would soon come face-to-face with Gravaldor, the monster who had killed his parents. Even if that was seven years ago, even if Barclay had never seen Gravaldor himself, he’d heard enough stories and had enough nightmares to imagine his face. Barclay knew he couldn’t bring his parents back, that stopping Gravaldor wouldn’t somehow save them. But it felt like it might.

Barclay’s heart nearly stopped when another roar shook the Woods. His Mark stung. What if they were too late?

Then the forest path opened into a sort of cave, its walls and ceiling made entirely of gnarled trees and branches. Only the faintest light broke through its cracks, and as Barclay’s eyes adjusted, he made out the shape of something in the enclosure’s center. Something very big.

He roared again, and though it was still loud enough to rattle Barclay inside and out, much of his breath had transformed into a white smoke.

“There!” Barclay said, pointing to the edge of the den.

“Mitzi, light!” Viola said, and a flash swept across the cave—not so bright for Barclay to squint, but enough that he could see clearly.

He wished he couldn’t.

Gravaldor loomed above them, taller than the tallest building Barclay had ever seen. Like in the illusion he’d seen fighting Klara’s Hocus, Gravaldor resembled a bear, with mangled brown fur and legs the size of oak trunks. His eyes were an earthy green and sunken, with strange markings around them like the inner swirls and grooves of a tree. Large stone plates covered in moss lay across his back like armor. Of his many gigantic claws, one of them on his front paw gleamed of solid gold.

Barclay could scarcely believe any Lore Keeper had ever bonded with the Beast, even if only in legends. There was something ancient and wild about it. A power greater than anything he’d ever imagined.