Calder’s visit left Briar shaken. Long after the crow had disappeared into the sky, she stood in her garden, her mind racing with questions. Who was Calder? What did he really want? And how had he known so much about her magic?

The garden, which had always been a place of peace and safety for Briar, now felt like it was holding its breath. The plants swayed softly in the breeze, but there was an uneasy stillness hanging in the air. Even Reginald, usually full of snarky comments, was unusually silent from his spot on the bench.

By the time Myrtle arrived for their planned tea, Briar’s nerves were frayed.

"Hey, I brought some of Magda’s raspberry tarts," Myrtle said, bouncing up the path with her usual energy. "They’re still warm, so—Briar?" Myrtle’s face fell as soon as she saw her friend. "What happened? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

Briar forced a shaky smile. "Not a ghost, but close enough."

Myrtle set down the basket of tarts and hurried over. "Tell me everything."

As they sat down in the garden, Briar recounted the entire encounter—Calder’s sudden appearance, his cryptic words, and his unsettling offer of power. Myrtle listened quietly, her brow furrowing deeper with every detail.

"So… this creepy crow-man just shows up and offers you more magic?" Myrtle said, her voice laced with disbelief. "And you turned him down? Good call. That guy sounds like trouble."

"I didn’t trust him," Briar said, wrapping her arms around herself. "But… what if I’m wrong, Myrtle? What if he’s right? I barely got through the elemental storm. Maybe I do need help to control my magic."

Myrtle frowned, shaking her head. "Briar, no. That guy didn’t offer you help—he offered you control. Power. And trust me, when people like that offer power, there’s always a catch."

Briar knew Myrtle was right, but the seed of doubt had already been planted in her mind. Calder’s words echoed in her thoughts, weaving through her insecurities. What if she wasn’t strong enough? What if the next magical disaster was too much for her to handle alone?

Myrtle leaned forward, her voice softening. "Briar, you’ve come so far. You don’t need some shadowy stranger to teach you magic. You’re already stronger than you realize."

"I know, I just—" Briar stopped, her eyes narrowing as she spotted something strange in the garden. She stood up, walking toward a patch of soil near the vegetable patch. "What is that?"

Myrtle followed, her eyes widening as she saw what Briar was pointing at. The soil, which had been rich and dark just hours ago, was now blackened and twisted, as if something had poisoned the ground. The plants around it were wilting, their leaves curling in on themselves like they were retreating from the tainted earth.

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Briar knelt down, her stomach twisting. "I’ve never seen anything like this before. It’s like the garden is… sick."

Myrtle bit her lip, her face serious. "Do you think this is from Calder? He was here, right before you noticed this."

Briar’s heart sank. She hadn’t even thought of that, but it made sense. Calder had been in her garden, his dark magic lingering in the air. Had his presence poisoned the earth? Or was this some kind of warning?

"I don’t know," Briar said quietly, her fingers brushing against the blackened soil. "But whatever it is, it’s not natural."

Myrtle crouched next to her, frowning at the damage. "We need to figure out how to fix this. If it spreads, your whole garden could be in danger."

Briar’s chest tightened at the thought. Her garden was more than just a collection of plants—it was a part of her magic, a living extension of her connection to the earth. If the corruption spread, it could destroy everything she had worked so hard to nurture.

"We have to stop it," Briar said, her voice firm. "I’m not letting Calder or whatever this is destroy my garden."

Myrtle nodded, determination shining in her eyes. "We’ll stop it. Together."

Briar stood up, her mind already racing with ideas. She had dealt with magical problems before, but this was different. This felt personal. The earth itself had been corrupted, and the thought of losing her garden made her stomach churn.

"I’ll start by trying to cleanse the soil," Briar said, wiping her hands on her apron. "There has to be a way to heal it before it spreads."

"Good plan," Myrtle said, standing up beside her. "And I’ll go talk to Magda. She’s dealt with dark magic before—she might have some ideas."

"Thank you," Briar said, grateful to have Myrtle by her side. "I’ll stay here and start working on the soil. The sooner we figure this out, the better."

Myrtle nodded, giving Briar a quick hug before hurrying off toward Magda’s cottage. As soon as she was gone, Briar turned back to the blackened soil, her heart heavy with worry. She knelt down again, closing her eyes and reaching for the magic inside her.

She focused on the earth beneath her, the same way she had when calming the elemental storm. But this time, something was different. The connection to the soil felt… off, like there was a barrier between her and the earth. The magic was still there, but it was weak, muted by whatever corruption had taken hold.

Briar gritted her teeth, pushing harder with her magic. She willed the soil to heal, to purge whatever darkness had taken root. But the more she tried to force the magic, the more the corruption resisted.

Her hands trembled as the soil beneath her fingers remained blackened, the corruption spreading inch by inch. No matter how much magic she poured into it, the darkness clung stubbornly to the earth, refusing to be cleansed.

"Why isn’t this working?" Briar muttered, her frustration building.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through her hand. Briar gasped, pulling back and staring at her palm. A small thorn, black and twisted like the corrupted soil, had pricked her skin, drawing a thin line of blood. The pain was sharp, and the area around the wound throbbed with a strange, dark energy.

Briar’s heart raced as she clutched her hand, her mind spinning. This was no ordinary corruption—this was dark magic, something more dangerous than she had anticipated. And it was spreading.

With shaking hands, Briar wrapped her palm in a cloth, her thoughts racing. She needed help, and she needed it fast. Whatever this magic was, it wasn’t something she could face on her own.

As the sky began to darken overhead, Briar felt the weight of the situation pressing down on her. Calder had left more than just a warning—he had left a curse.

And now, Briar had to figure out how to break it.