“Is it one of the boys?” I asked Mary when she rushed down the hall to meet us.
“No. They are well. Come to the laboratory. At once,” she called over her shoulder, already heading back in the direction of the tower.
The sight that greeted us there was enough to make both Seven and me gasp.
“It is an altogether unexpected arbor Dianæ,” Mary said, crouching down so that she was at eye level with the bulbous chamber at the alembic’s base that held the roots of a black tree. It wasn’t like the first arbor Dianæ, which was entirely silver and far more delicate in its structure. This one, with its stout, dark trunk and bare limbs, reminded me of the oak tree in Madison that had sheltered us after Juliette’s attack. I’d pulled the vitality out of that tree to save Seven’s life.
“Why isn’t it
