A stone shrine sits on the top of the mound. It's almost as tall as me. Masses of purple moss cover most of the stone.

  Dad lights some incense and lays it and the fruit on the altar. He says something I can't quite make out and bows. I realize my mouth is gaping open. My father has always only worshiped the god of our island, the god of weather, and the god of plants. That's it. But he just offered a sacrifice to fairies—to fairies? It doesn't make sense. If someone in the village told me they saw Dad up here making a sacrifice, I wouldn't believe them. I'm watching it happen and can hardly believe it.

  The breeze changes. I smell the noni trees before seeing them. I hide my nose in the crook of my elbow. The fruit smells worse than stinky feet, maybe even worse than the stinky feet of a week-old corpse. Tangles of plants cover the hilltop. Some reach out to trip us. We walk past the noni trees into a garden.

  "What is this place?" Ansel asks.

  Dad holds out his arms wide and turns around. "This is my rebellion garden. These are all medicinal and—uh—magical plants."

  "What?" I blurt out. Even though the ban on magic ended before Dad was born, his family never accepted the change. He always talks about how every part of magic is evil. If he was going to break the rules of growing out of season, why didn't he plant some food for us to eat?

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  Dad catches my eye and misunderstands my expression. "Sometimes you have to do things you don't want to do. As far as I know, my plants are only sold to healers. There's nothing wrong with growing stuff for them."

  "We never go to the healers. You say—"

  He cuts me off. "The trees here," he points at the ones surrounding the garden, "as well as all the herbs and flowers in the ring of the trees, are for healing—and magic, but mostly healing."

  "Why?" Ansel looks as confused as I feel. Good, at least it took him by surprise, too.

  Dad shrugs. "We need the money. Besides, this land doesn't belong to anyone, not really. Whatever I sell from here is all ours. I'm saving half of it to help fund the rebellion when it comes. We will take our island back—"

  I stop listening. "Taking back our island" is one of Dad's favorite subjects. While he talks, I look at the plants. I don't even know what most of them are. My knuckle still burns. It has doubled in size. Something here has to help with this sort of thing. I wait for a chance to interrupt.

  "One day, this will belong to the two of you. For now, you're both old enough to start learning this as a side trade. Ansel, pick a hundred cobal leaves and fill them with sap; we'll need them for incense. My buyer said he's already sold everything he bought last week. Jeremiah, you gather black-eyed Susans and calendulas. Be careful when you put them in your pack. They'll fetch a higher price if they aren't missing any petals."

  I have no idea what either plant is. I pull a random flower by the roots. "Is this one of them?"

  Dad knocks the flower to the ground, kicking it away. "No. Don't touch any of the fairy flowers!"