All Barclay had ever done was follow in his parents’ footsteps. Because he believed, down to his very core, that if he worked hard and tried to follow the rules, he could almost get them back. He could earn the life in Dullshire that he should have had.

He didn’t even care about the danger anymore. Or the Mourningtide Morel. Or the dirt under his fingernails.

He had to stop her.

“You’ll kill everyone,” Barclay seethed. “Gravaldor isn’t like your dragon—”

“I told you, she’s a whelp—”

“He’s huge! He’s bigger than trees, with fangs as long as you and me. He’s more powerful than any Beast in the Woods, and you’d be eaten before you’d even be able to feel sorry.”

She narrowed her eyes. “How would you know? You’re just a farmer of…” She deflated, trying to think. “What’s the word for it in your language? They’re squishy. It’s a… a…”

“Mushroom?” he impatiently finished for her.

“Yes! You’re just a mushroom farmer.”

“I know because Gravaldor once destroyed our entire town.” He didn’t add anything about his parents because he didn’t share stuff like that with strangers. Everyone in Dullshire was right. Lore Keepers were selfish, and they only brought doom.

The girl’s face softened, but she didn’t back down. She took a few steps closer to Barclay and jabbed her finger into his chest. He wobbled but didn’t fall over.

“I need to do this, and you can’t stop me.” Mitzi squawked in agreement. The girl kept walking and poking him until he’d backed up to the edge of the trunk. “These are the most difficult items to find in the Woods, and I collected them all.” She waved the jar with the Mourningtide Morel in front of his face. “These will summon and trap Gravaldor. It’s perfect.”

Barclay’s eyes widened as he examined the mushroom in that jar. Up close, he realized its scarlet dome was actually crimson.

“Wait!” he said. But the girl gave him one more jab, and he toppled off the trunk. He landed painfully in the center of the clearing, a pine cone squashed underneath him.

“Wait!” he sputtered again. “That’s not a—”

But the girl had already set the jar down, completing the perfect line.

Suddenly, deep in the Woods behind him, there came a howl.

Barclay scrambled to his feet. To his right, the trees shuddered. Then, to his left, footsteps scurried through the shade. A figure rushed by so fast, it was merely a blur.

“Barclayyyyyyyy,” Selby moaned from the top of the hill.

Barclay waved at him to hush. Behind him, Barclay heard the sound of something breathing. There was a low, guttural growl.

His heart pounded, and he desperately clutched his Beast-warding charm. It usually calmed him in dangerous situations, even ones without Beasts. It helped him clear his head enough to think his way out of trouble.

But then a pair of glowing eyes appeared through the trees.

He couldn’t think his way out of this.