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as he emphasized the details of his fantastic stories, fills my thoughts. I laugh quietly to myself at how animated he was, how imaginative his tales were. A thought weaves its way into my mind, curling around the memories of my father’s trip, his sudden death, his body returned in an urn.

“Ancor, did you know my father?”

Peeling rosemary leaves off the stem, he tosses them into the water.

“Dane was a good man and an even better warlock.”

The chair scrapes the floor as I stand abruptly.

“He knew of Mordeeves Island. He visited here. Why didn’t he tell me what he was? Why didn’t my mother tell me the truth of what happened to him?”

Taking another dried herb hanging on the wall, Ancor pulls its leaves and tosses them into the water with the others.

“You already know the answer to your questions.”

Anger surges from my gut into my chest, my fists clenching at my sides.

“My mother didn’t practice, did she? She didn’t join him in the fight?”

“Are you asking me or telling me something you know?”

Ancor adds a splash of a brown liquid, the water turns the color of black tea, then he pours it into the cup I used and hands it to me.

“For the anger. You mustn’t carry it with you.”

I snatch the cup from his hand and take a sip, prepared for it to taste nasty. Just as I expected, I grimace at the awful flavor. Why do so many of his elixirs taste bad? With each sip, my anger fades, and beneath it, is understanding. My parents did what they believed was best. I can’t fault them for it, but I miss my father so much, it hurts.

“He’s a part of you—your eyes, your talent, your determination to learn your magic and help however you can. He would be proud of you.”

Tears well in my eyes.

“I miss him.”

“He’s buried here. You can visit him.”

I set the cup on the table before I drop it. “Where?”

“I’ll show you.”

Ancor leads the way out of his cabin as the reality that the beautifully painted urn on my mother’s mantle must have been a material remembrance of the man she loved. I can’t imagine the pain she must have felt when she lost him. I’ve known Griffin, Emeric, and Cyrus for a short time, yet I would be devastated if something happened to one of them.

Deeper into the forest, we walk, a lantern dangling from Ancor’s hand to provide us with better light. The trail through the crowded forest comes to an end, bringing us into a field of wildflowers. Evenly spread out are massive trees with trunks that intertwine and branch out, making the tree grander. Each tree I look at has colorful blooming flowers the size of my hand.

Ancor leads me across a dirt path to a tree with flowers the color of a rainbow. I reach up to the five petals overlapping each other to make a circle. With the sun shining on the petals, each color sparkles vibrantly, beginning with the outer edge of yellow down to the center color of blue.

“These are gorgeous. They’re as vibrant and colorful as my father was.”

“Dane was buried here, and from his magic, this tree gained life.”

My gaze takes in all the other trees and their array of colored flowers.

“Each tree has grown from the death of a supernatural?”

“From powerful ones, yes. The wildflowers that decorate the field are from others. The pixies collect their pollen and use it to create nectar, which in turn is used to create food, medicine, and elixirs. On Mordeeves Island, life is an everlasting circle.”

Yearning for my father’s embrace, I trail my fingers down the smooth bark. The tree branches and flowers shift as if a breeze is moving them, but the air is still.

“His magic senses its kin.”

A flower falls from the tree, brushing my shoulder before landing at my feet. Picking it up, tears fill my eyes as I twirl the flower, its colors sparkling. Sitting at the base of the tree, I rest my back against it as tears cascade down my cheeks. More flowers fall, creating a halo around me.

“I miss you, Dad.”

The tree shifts its branches, and before my eyes, new flowers emerge where the others had fallen. They expand out, reaching for the sun—sparkling pollen rains down on me, covering me in its silky embrace.

“If we take these flowers back with us, can you make me something out of them? I want to keep him with me.”

“I can, and I will,” he nods.

Wiping the tears away, I gather as many of the flowers as I can carry. Holding the flowers close to my chest, I place my palm on the tree trunk.

“I’ll be back to visit you again, I promise.”

Careful to avoid the wildflowers, I follow Ancor back to his tree cabin. He sets a basket on his table for the flowers.

“Next time you visit, I’ll have something made for you.”

“Thank you. It means more to me than I can express in words.”

Ancor closes his eyes as he inhales a slow breath. When they open, there’s empathy in them. “I understand.” He ushers me toward the door. “Now go, fairy painter, Cyrus will be arriving soon.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

SELENE

Stepping through the portal into my living room, I’m nearly to my bathroom when I spot Cyrus stride through a portal of his own.

“That was very soon.”

Cyrus knits his brows.

“Ancor told me you’d be arriving.”

He begins to speak, then closes his mouth and grimaces.

“There’s a pungent odor of burned demon in here. What happened today?” He comes over, putting his hand on my face for inspection. “Are you all right?” His gaze takes in the sparkling pollen all over my skin and clothes. “Were you at the Field of the Fallen?”

“It’s been a busy day. My art show is still happening. After the gallery staff picked up my collection, two demons burst through my door and attacked me.”

“At your house?” Cyrus removes his glasses and rubs a hand over the

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