She remembered the great big oak tree from the Rose Wood, so old and thick that you could imagine setting up a home inside its trunk. It was where Lottie had curled up to cry on her own, and it was where Lola had run to when she was upset about her father. The tree was like a beacon and a mother, calling out and cradling all those who needed comfort, its long branches a set of soothing arms. If Rosewood and Takeshin were really linked, then maybe there was something like that here too . . .
The fog parted on a small clearing, a perfect circle of green bamboo trees. Right in the center was a tree, tall and fat, and with such peculiar and fascinating bumps that it looked like a giant woman emerging from the ground. Along the bottom grew silvervine in abundance, the little white flowers like patterned lace.
“Mrreoow!”
Lottie’s eyes lit up as Vampy reappeared from behind the tree.
“There you are!” She grinned at the black cat, walking over to it. It was so dark she could hardly see a thing, but as she leaned down to stroke Vampy a firefly illuminated the tree, revealing marks on the trunk, browned and white in the center, carved in thick to last for centuries.
Lottie had seen this sigil before in a book and in a diary. Lili’s diary.
It was a lily with two slivers of a semicircle on either side. The crest of the Mayfutts. Her ancestors, and Liliana’s. But what was it doing all the way out here in Japan?
She straightened up sharply. One thought sprang into her head, as bright as the fireflies around her.
The answer to all her questions lay in that diary. She needed the diary she’d left behind at Rosewood—and she knew exactly who could help.
12
IN COVENT GARDEN, LONDON, BINAH Fae was watching the sun rise from the roof garden of her parents’ penthouse. The little green nook looked down over the sun-soaked streets, where trucks beeped in familiar melodies, while dustmen, bakers, and business owners carried out their early-morning duties across the great city.
Wrapped in a canary-yellow robe, Binah liked to get up extra early during the summer holidays to water her plants and watch London wake up with a nice cup of chamomile tea and a chapati smothered in strawberry jam. She’d read once that one of her idols, Oprah Winfrey, tried to get up every day between half past five and half past six to experience the day to its fullest. Even with the time difference, she liked to think they were connected by their early mornings.
“Looks like it’s nearly time to give you a haircut,” she whispered to the philadelphus flowers, pouring them their breakfast of water and plant food.
She’d also read once that plants grew better if you talked to them, and even though there was no clear science to back it up, sometimes you just had to trust your instincts. Then she heard the buzzing from her phone.
Calls at this time were certainly not a regular part of her morning routine, but one look at the number and she knew all her plans were likely about to go up in flames.
“Lottie!” She slid the FaceTime button to reveal sun-reddened cheeks and frizzy blond curls.
Lottie looked relieved. “You’re awake?”
“Yes. Luckily for you I’m an early riser.” Binah could see something had happened. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” her friend replied much too quickly. “It’s just, well, actually . . .”
“Why are you whispering?” Binah leaned down close to the screen, finding the whisper to be infectious.
“I don’t want anyone eavesdropping.” Lottie looked around nervously before continuing. “Listen, I need your help—”
“Where’s Ellie?”
Lottie blinked, something fluttered past her head, which appeared to be a dragonfly, and the silence spoke far louder than words.
“Tell me. What’s happened?” Binah was nervous now.
“We had a little falling-out the other night.” She sounded distant and melancholy. Shaking her head, Lottie suddenly snapped to efficiency. “But that’s not why I’m calling. Listen, this is going to sound super weird, so hear me out.” She took a deep breath and began talking in a rush. “I found the crest of the Mayfutts carved into a tree in the Kiri Shinrin—the woods surrounding Takeshin—and I just have this feeling that it might give me a clue to the secret treasure hidden in the school.”
“Secret treasure? How delightful.” It was rare that Binah was confronted with a mystery she was unfamiliar with, and her mouth watered at the prospect.
Lottie gave a wry smile. “Yeah, I thought you’d say that.”
A truck in the distant London streets made a great honking noise.
Binah shook her head clear. “And you’re sure it was Liliana’s crest?” she asked slowly.
“I’m positive. I know that symbol like it’s my own face.”
Ever since Binah was a little girl she’d had a knack for puzzles. She’d learned from a young age that puzzles are not about connections but about patterns, and once you learn to spot patterns you see them everywhere.
“You want me to get the diary from Lili’s study at Rosewood,” Binah said, this latest puzzle already settling into place in her mind.
“I . . . yes!” Lottie’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but Binah was used to people being surprised by her. In fact, she even found it amusing. “Please,” Lottie added quickly, “if it’s even possible.”
Taking a small sip of her honeyed tea, Binah tried to contain her delight. The very idea that the mysteries of Rosewood could stem all the way to Japan was as sweet as the tea in her mouth.
She began tapping her teacup. “Breaking
