The trees surrounding the grave site bowed their limbs, a reflection of my own sadness.

“I didn’t bring you here to make you sad,” said Marie. “I wanted you to know that you have a connection here that’s bigger than what happens in the shop, and the Heart is that connection. They all took their turn protecting it, but as much as I tried to understand it, they guarded their secrets fiercely. It was like they couldn’t allow anyone else to share their burden.”

“You don’t know why they kept it hidden?” I asked. “Why is it a burden at all?”

Marie walked over to a meticulously maintained grave. A fresh vase of fuchsia orchids sat next to it. The name read Astraea Colchis 1643–1680. She knelt and dusted off the grave marker. “When I was younger, I was ready to take on the world. I wanted to leave this place so badly—until I met Astraea. I stayed here because of her. She was my best friend during a time when I had none at all.” She swallowed hard. “One summer, I got sick. Sicker than I’d ever been in my life. My sister and my father had already died, and I knew I’d be next. Astraea saved me.”

My heart ached for her, but I couldn’t pretend that other parts of what she was saying weren’t bothering me. “You just said ‘when I was younger’ like you’re not young now. I’m confused.”

Marie sighed. “I’m thinking of how I can make it clearer for you.”

“See? Saying things like that makes no sense, and I’m not gonna lie, it scares the shit out of me. Like, literally scares me to death.” I recalled how, twice now, just being in her presence had sent fear rippling through me. It wasn’t the only thing I felt for her, but it still concerned me.

Marie shook her head. A pained expression stretched across her face. “I don’t want that.”

“Then you gotta start being honest with me. How could Astraea have been your best friend if she died in 1680?”

“All I know is that Circe left everything to you,” Marie said, glossing over my question. “She wanted you to pick up where she left off.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this. I don’t even know if I want this responsibility.” I was willing to grow the garden and stock the apothecary, but protecting the Heart? I didn’t know what that meant. Protecting it from what? And why? Because it was poisonous? It didn’t make sense.

Marie drew her mouth into a tight line. “That’s your choice. But I can tell you that the apothecary is important to people around here. People like me. I’ve been thinking of a way to be more open with you. It might—” She stopped, and her eyes grew wide.

“It might what?”

“Shhh!” She was by my side so quickly I didn’t even see her feet move, but before I could say anything, something darted between the trees. Marie tilted her head to the side, then took a long, slow breath. “If I asked you to close your eyes and keep them shut until I told you to open them, would you do it?”

“I—I don’t know, I—”

A man wearing a dark jacket and a baseball cap emerged from the tree line. Three other men stepped into the graveyard behind him.

“Nice to see you again,” said the first man.

Marie glanced at me and I realized where I’d seen at least one of them before.

“He came after me and Karter at the movies,” I said, my heart pounding.

Marie stepped in front of me. “Leave,” she said to the men. Her voice was low, like a growl, and that terrible feeling of being in the presence of something uniquely dangerous washed over me again.

“Give her to us and we’ll let you live,” said one of the shorter men.

“You’ll let me live?” Marie asked. I couldn’t see her face, but the rise in her tone made it sound like she was talking through a smile.

I couldn’t breathe. I balled my hands at my sides as a chorus of groans emanated from a cluster of large willow trees behind me. The unkempt grass rustled in the windless night.

One of the taller men took a step forward, and Marie held up her hand. “Last chance to rethink this.” Her voice was so cold it scared me, but she didn’t sound afraid. She sounded irate.

“We’ll take her by force if need be,” said the man.

“Take me where?” I asked. “What do you want?”

“She doesn’t know?” one of the men asked.

“Shut up!” shouted the taller man.

“Close your eyes, Briseis,” Marie said. “Please.”

I was trembling so bad I could hardly stand up straight. The first man lunged forward, and I shut my eyes. Something impacted me from the front. I was suddenly being dragged across the ground. My eyes snapped open and I clawed at the dirt as a tangle of vines wrapped around my waist, pulling me back to the tree line. A gathering of nettle rose up like a fence, and to my utter astonishment, a rare and deadly plant called the stinger, a mustard-yellow bloom with poisonous barbed spears that, when threatened, released porcupine-like quills.

A pained moan cut through the air. One of the shorter men lay on the ground. He rolled onto his back. A sickening gurgling noise erupted from his throat, which lay torn open. He became unnaturally still. I tried to scream but nothing came out.

The vines held me tight, refusing to release me. I spotted Marie standing at the edge of the clearing with her back to me. The tall man stood in front of her.

“Marie! Run!” I screamed.

She didn’t move. The man leaned toward her. Her hands held the sides of his head. The vines gripped me harder, the poison plants like guard dogs in front of me.

“Marie?” I called out again.

There was a loud pop and the man’s arms went limp, dropping to his sides. Marie tossed him to the ground like a rag doll. The vines loosened, and I was able to wriggle free.

“We need to go,” Marie said. Her voice had returned to its normal singsong tone.

“What the hell is going on?” The tall man lay in a heap on the ground. The space where his head should have been was a dark spot in the grass. Was it a shadow? A trick of the light? The other two men were nowhere to be seen.

Marie huffed loudly as she marched up to me. “Did you close your eyes like I asked?”

“Are you serious right now?” The plants surrounding me slunk back into the underbrush.

The smell of metal, like wet pennies, permeated the air around her. Marie’s eyes were black as soot—no pupil, no white. She leaned toward me. “You have so many secrets, Briseis. Can you keep one more?”