Raised beds filled the courtyard in a checkerboard pattern, each divided into quarters by wooden planks. Every bed was full of plants, but they were all dead, their leaves yellowed, their stalks broken. A short wooden pillar with a plaque affixed to the top stood in front of each bed. I walked to the closest one and scraped off a thick layer of green moss to read the words under it.

ANGELICA

Angelica archangelica

I weaved my way through the beds, cleaning off the other signs. Each of the dozens of plots had a label that matched one of the jars from the apothecary. I studied the map again. The rectangles represented the raised beds, and a thick black line drawn through the center represented a wall that divided the front of the garden from another area behind it. I followed the path, passing under the enormous tree.

Three-quarters of the way back, a circular archway sat in the center of a high wall. The wall itself was blanketed in a writhing mass of black vines dotted with dark purple leaves and crimson thorns. It was the vining plant I’d seen in the big book, the Devil’s Pet—and it was even more terrifying in person than it was in the illustration.

I took out the letter I was supposed to read when I got to this point and tore it open.

Beyond this point is the Venenum Hortus, the Poison Garden. Every plant grown in this bit of poison earth could kill a full-grown person five times over. Most people who wish to come in contact with these plants would have to cover every inch of exposed skin, and even then, it might not be enough to protect them. While you may not yet understand why, I trust you will understand what I mean when I say that you, dearest Briseis, need no such protections.

She knew.

Circe, a dead woman I’d never met, knew my biggest secret—a secret I’d only just figured out myself.

Your mother, Selene, tried to spare you this responsibility, but fate has a way of catching up to us. You must decide if you can continue this work, because you are the only one left who can, and it is more important than you can possibly imagine.

The vines twisted around one another like a tangle of snakes. Something deep in my bones, in the same place where this power was seeded, urged me to keep moving forward. I stepped through the archway into the deadly garden.

My nose burned, my eyes watered, and cold spilled down my throat like a glass of ice water. I coughed, trying to force out the chill, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. The feeling slowly subsided, leaving a tingling sensation on the inside of my nose and mouth.