The moon drops Marisol into a forest where everything talks back. The mushrooms are judgmental. The squirrels are placing bets on her failure. And a boulder she accidentally grabs apologizes for being in the way. Her assignment: save the oldest tree in the forest from falling. Simple — except the tree has been dying for centuries, her magic is running at sixty percent, and the only person who claims to know how to fix it is a sweet old grandmother in a cottage with a red door who keeps sending Marisol on quests that make everything worse. Every remedy kills the tree faster. Every quest leads somewhere stranger. Up a mountain where magic doesn't work. Through argumentative vines guarding moonflowers. Into a polite conversation with a twelve-thousand-year-old boulder. And Tibby won't stop shaking. He's never been wrong about danger. Somewhere between the helpful grandmother and the dying tree, something doesn't add up. And what a seven-hundred-year-old caretaker is really taking care of might not be what Marisol expects. A lighthearted fantasy with a mystery at its heart — for readers who love talking forests, unreliable grandmothers, and cats who know more than they're saying. Each book in the Moon Over Marisol series is a complete adventure.