"That'll do nicely, yes," one of the twins said as he snatched up the coins with obvious satisfaction.
"I've done my part," Julian replied, all business. "Now it's both of yours."
"Don't worry, mate," the other twin said with a grin. "You've paid, and we haven't let you down yet. No reason to start now. Follow us."
They moved quickly, and Julian stayed close as they led him through the castle.
"We'll need to keep an eye out for Professor Sprout," one of them said more seriously as they walked, "but otherwise it should be a cinch getting you into the forest safely. After that, though, you're on your own. Even we have to be careful in there."
Julian did not argue. He simply followed.
...
To his surprise, they headed toward the greenhouses.
More specifically, they stopped at the fourth greenhouse.
After checking carefully to make sure it was empty, they slipped inside, and Julian mirrored their movements so he would not disturb anything. He kept his steps light, eyes flicking over the plants and the cluttered workspaces as they moved toward the back.
There, beneath a pile of empty planter pots stacked carelessly near the rear wall, the twins revealed a hidden entrance.
A concealed passage.
Julian watched as they shifted the pots aside, exposing the outline of a trapdoor that blended into the floor.
'I can honestly say I never would've found this without someone pointing it out,' Julian thought, impressed despite himself.
"We normally use this to collect things for our products," one twin said casually, "or to earn a bit of coin for the same purpose."
He pulled the trapdoor open.
A tunnel sloped downward, then forward, and a short time later they emerged beneath the roots of a tall tree. The trapdoor above them was camouflaged so well it looked like part of the forest itself.
"This is where we part ways, mate," the other twin said, stepping back. "Best of luck."
Then they disappeared back into the tunnel, leaving Julian alone as the hidden door shut behind them.
...
'First thing's first. I need to mark this tree so I can find it again,' Julian thought immediately.
He flicked his wand at a stick lying on the ground, transfiguring it into a small flag. Then he hung it from a branch where it would be visible even from a distance.
He also studied the tree's shape, bark pattern, and the way its roots rose from the earth, committing the details to memory in case something tore the flag down.
...
The forest was darker than he expected.
Thick foliage overhead swallowed most of the sunlight, leaving the ground in a constant dim twilight. Julian felt an immediate, quiet gratitude that he had completed the night eye ritual before coming here.
He kept his wand in hand as he began moving forward, posture cautious and ready. His gaze stayed active, sweeping the branches above as well as the shadows around the roots and the undergrowth.
Even the smallest acromantula was the size of a cat.
And like ordinary spiders, they were masters of hiding.
Julian needed to notice the smallest irregularity.
...
It turned out his immediate worry was misplaced.
A large horse stepped out from between the trees ahead of him, moving with calm, measured grace. Its skin was pearl white, its mane silver, and the most striking feature of all was the long spiral ivory horn rising from its forehead.
A unicorn.
Acromantulas would not linger anywhere near a unicorn. Their natures clashed too sharply. Unicorns were creatures of purity and innocence, while the giant spiders were dark, violent things that could not tolerate that sort of presence.
Because of that, Julian allowed himself to relax slightly as the unicorn made itself known.
That was the key detail.
It had made itself known.
If it had wished to remain hidden, Julian would never have realized it was there at all.
...
Julian bowed to the unicorn with respect, but without submission.
The unicorn returned the gesture, the movement controlled and dignified, like one ruler acknowledging another.
"If it isn't too much trouble," Julian said politely, "could you point me in the direction of the nearest member of that spider colony?"
The unicorn looked surprised, pausing for a moment as if weighing him.
Then it dipped its head in a slight nod and indicated a direction with its horn.
"Thank you," Julian said.
The unicorn turned and walked away, leaving him alone again in the dim forest.
...
Julian followed the direction carefully. Before long he began seeing signs of acromantula territory, thin strands of webbing here and there, the occasional sticky thread stretched between branches like a warning line.
He did not go deeper.
Entering their colony was death in most cases.
And in his case, it would be guaranteed.
...
Thankfully, he did not need to push farther in.
He noticed movement above him, subtle at first. A figure creeping along the trunk of a nearby tree, descending with slow, deliberate intent.
Julian did not react outwardly.
Instead, he turned as if he had noticed nothing and began walking away from the colony's edge.
The figure paused, hesitating, as if weighing whether it should follow him farther from the safety of its territory.
For a moment, it seemed conflicted.
Then hunger and greed won out over caution.
It followed.
Julian kept his pace steady, not fast enough to seem like prey fleeing, but not slow enough to allow it to close too quickly. He created distance, step by step, drawing the creature away from the colony.
Once he judged the gap to be sufficient, he prepared himself.
And then he launched a sudden ambush against the stalking figure behind him.