Simon Silverleaf had crossed the veil twice, and twice it had spat him out in the wrong world. Both times he had nearly died looking for the shard. Now he stood on the top balcony of his treehouse home and admitted the truth. He could not keep guessing. The shard of the Heartwood had been ripped from Witchhazel and hidden somewhere beyond the veil. If he crossed blind again, he would land a thousand miles from it, or worse. He needed to see where it hid before he stepped through. He went inside and unwrapped the crystal he had traded three years of favors to get. It was shaped like a splash of water frozen mid-air, cool and clear in his hands. A scrying stone. If it worked, it would show him the shard across the veil. He held it to the light and whispered the shard's name. The crystal warmed. Deep inside it, an image bloomed: dark stone, still water, a cavern roof curving overhead. Then the picture broke apart like ripples. Simon cursed. He had a place, but not enough of it. A cave. A pool. That could be anywhere. He needed the crystal steady, and it would only hold near water that matched its own nature. He knew one place. Below his tree, past the roots, lay a grotto he had found as a boy. A sheltered cave of smooth stone with a pool so still it worked like a mirror. He climbed down and carried the crystal cupped in both hands. Inside the grotto, cold air pressed on his skin. The pool lay flat and black. Simon knelt at its edge and lowered the crystal until its point touched the surface. The water drank the light. The whole pool began to glow. This time the image held. The cavern in the vision matched the grotto around him, stone for stone, pool for pool. Simon understood at once. The shard was not in some far, nameless land. It was hidden beyond the veil in the twin of this very place. The two grottos were reflections of each other, one on each side of the veil. He pressed his palm to the water. It gave like glass about to break. A doorway. He could see exactly where it led, and where it led held the shard. Simon rocked back on his heels, breathing hard. For the first time the problem had a floor under it. He knew the destination. He could cross without being lost. Then the glow on the pool sharpened, and he saw more of the far cavern. Chains hung from its walls. A shape moved in the dark behind the shard, tall and slow, turning its head toward the light as if it felt him watching. The shard was not merely hidden. It was guarded. Simon lifted his hand from the water. He had found the door. Now he had to face what waited on the other side.