175

MAXINE

We made our way to the old oak tree near the lake. The moon was hanging low in the sky. It cast a pale glow on the water. I could see the massive oak tree in the distance, its branches twisting like fingers.

This was where it was all going to end.

We reached the base of the tree. The ground beneath our feet is uneven and covered in fallen leaves. Mr. Grayson pulled out the scroll from the small box containing the last piece. He brought the other pieces from his bag one after the other.

“Here,” Mr. Grayson said, kneeling on the ground and spreading the pieces out like a puzzle. "This is where we put it all together."

I knelt beside him, helping to arrange the pieces. They were fragile, the edges folding and crumbling. We managed to fit them together. Zel stood to the side, her magic ready.

Peter stood nearby, his eyes closed. He was humming and I suspected he was connecting with the spirits. He was the connection that the old journal spoke about.

“We have to be quick,” Zel said,