“These are the notes Conley was keeping from his work with Soren! Listen to what he writes! ‘Runa has begun following me, and I don’t know why.’ ‘I think she’s planning something terrible.’ ‘I’m becoming more afraid, both for myself and my son—’ ”

“Those are forged!” Runa snapped. “Why would Soren hold on to this evidence for two seasons if he’d had it all along?”

But Erhart wouldn’t hear sense. He shoved Barclay out of his path. And the potted plants around his desk suddenly grew, and their vines twisted around Runa’s wrists like shackles.

“I read some of Sycomore’s old lawbooks and decided that there will be a trial!” Erhart proclaimed. “I’ve already contacted someone to speak on behalf of your character. He’ll be in Sycomore this evening.”

“And who might that be?” Runa asked. She didn’t struggle against her restraints, but the sound of her voice was icy.

“Cyril Harlow.”

Runa took a deep breath and wore a smile so terrifying, Barclay’s skin prickled. “How charming. Then if I’m to be imprisoned, who will leave to find Tadg?”

“L-leave?! It’s almost Midwinter! The Beasts are at their most dangerous!” Erhart blubbered. “I won’t be sending people out to their deaths! If the boy had any sense, he wouldn’t have left. Little did he know his father’s murderer was here all along.” Then Erhart turned his attention to Barclay. “You both! Get out of my office! The Exhibition award ceremony and the trial will be tomorrow!”

Barclay and Viola were shoved out the door into the Guild House, which was now deadly silent. The other Masters had all crowded around the door to eavesdrop.

“Arrest the Fang of Dusk?” Mandeep said. “That’s absurd!”

“Wasn’t she Murdock’s friend?” Floriane asked.

“Of course she was, you two turnips!” Athna huffed. “I don’t know what Soren said to convince Erhart, but if Soren’s plans go wrong, Gravaldor could murder us all before the end of the Midwinter.”

Barclay and Viola stumbled through the crowds to the Guild House’s door. The cold air forced Barclay’s muddled thoughts to clear and made him more alert.

“Tadg’s gone after Soren to stop him,” Barclay groaned, “not to help him.”

“But it doesn’t make sense!” Viola said. “If Soren only came to Sycomore to seek out Gravaldor, why would he wait through the entire Exhibition? He could’ve left earlier and given himself more time. Even if he left last night, he’d have to rush to make it to the heart of the Woods by Midwinter.”

Barclay admitted that she had a point. But then he remembered something.

“When I was in the Woods with Soren, he told me that he wanted to find apprentices.”

“Apprentices? As in, more than one?” Viola asked. “Who would they be?”

The dread in Barclay’s stomach knotted tighter. Abel had already known Soren was gone.

Barclay grabbed Viola’s hand and ran to the Ironwood Inn. They charged up the stairs to Abel’s and Ethel’s rooms on the top floor, but the only person they found inside was a maid.