Barclay didn’t think he could hear more of this, or he might be sick again. He grabbed Selby’s shoulder. “Come on. We’re going back.”

Selby cringed as Barclay touched him, and Barclay swallowed and dropped his hand.

“What if the Beast gets out?” Selby murmured.

“I…” Barclay’s mouth went dry. Then he, Barclay Thorne, Dullshire’s hardest-working but most troublesome apprentice, would become another cautionary tale. Another Lore Keeper who brought destruction with him.

The girl shook her head. “Beasts can’t come out of their Marks unless you summon them. Or unless they break their bonds. But that’s very rare! If it was going to happen, you’d know. The Mark would start to turn black.”

If Barclay could see the tattoo’s color changing, that would give him time to escape Dullshire if he needed to. He could run into the Woods and let the trees swallow him whole. Then, far, far away, Dullshire would be safe.

But he would be gone, alone in the Woods with a deranged Beast.

Barclay didn’t mind having responsibilities. In fact, every year of his apprenticeship, he looked forward to Master Pilzmann assigning him new ones. It had begun with chores—Barclay learned to chop firewood, to feed Gustav, and to fetch water from the well. As he grew older, Barclay began interacting with customers and tending to the mushroom cellar. Now he led foraging trips all on his own.

Each time, Barclay had known that he was ready for the new responsibility. Even when it was hard or he was tired, he liked how much Master Pilzmann relied on him. Whenever his teacher called him exceptional, Barclay felt a flutter of pride in his chest. No one else in town thought of orphans like that.

But this responsibility was far greater than anything else asked of him. If a Beast lived in Barclay’s skin, then it was Barclay’s responsibility to make sure it stayed there. It was his responsibility to keep Dullshire safe… no matter what.

“We’re going back,” Barclay said. Though his words were firm, his voice shook.

“They’ll let you go back?” the girl asked. “You said they’d chase me away for being a Lore Keeper. So what will they do to you?”

Barclay’s heart filled with dread. Dullshire didn’t make exceptions. At least, not for Barclay, who didn’t have family to fight for one.

“They won’t know,” he murmured, as determined as he was terrified.

Then he grabbed Selby’s hand and led them through the maze of gray trees. It might have been Barclay’s imagination playing tricks, but as the wind blew and the branches prickled, it seemed as though every tree now leaned away from him to clear his path. As though the wilds recognized one of their own.

It wasn’t until the boys arrived at Master Pilzmann’s house that Barclay remembered he was returning from his trip empty-handed. They’d failed to find the Mourningtide Morel, and judging from the ominous clouds darkening the sky, the first snow was coming. Now Master Pilzmann would have to wait until next year.