Xavier glanced at her sadly and sat down on the carpet of leaves, looking defeated. “No luck,” he sighed. “Somehow, we got off the path and by the time we found the flowers, the sun was sinking into the horizon and the petals closed up. We were late…” “We’re not going to be accepted,” Sarah muttered. “What rotten luck! We’ll have to wait another year.” The words died on her lips when she saw Camilla opening her pouch and holding the precious black flowers. “No worries. Neither of you has to wait,” she said simply. “I have three flowers.” Sarah stammered, “And you’d share it with us?” “Of course! Let’s go. We only have half an hour to get back to the coven and fifteen more minutes to add the flowers and finish the potion,” she informed. Xavier leaped to his feet as Sarah rushed to embrace Camilla in a tight hug. *** The spicy-sharp autumn air of Blackmire Forest smelled of pure magic as the apprentices hurried toward the coven. They rushed back to the coven and under the watchful eyes of the High Priestess and Elders, they added the Woodruff Iris to their prepared, murky looking potions. They stirred the dark grey, thick liquid in their cauldrons and yelled out in surprise when the potion turned into a ruby red, glowing liquid. “You have passed your last test,” the High Priestess announced and looked at the acolytes with warmth in her eyes and a smile on her lips.