Page 10 of Gift from the Tree

“Give me a minute to catch my breath. I really must start working out more.” He can barely get the words out because he’s gasping so hard. Slowly, I push a little air into his lungs, just enough so he can catch his breath, but not enough to cause his lungs to pop.

“Thank you, my boy. But don’t do that for others. It’s too dangerous for anyone to know you can do that.” He begins to lecture me on shit I already know, but my patience is up, and I need to know what the fuck is happening.

“Gaster, stop. Explain now.” I rarely lose my temper with him. He’s basically my grandfather. Only Elementra herself knows how old he is, and he’s been advising, fighting, living, and loving my family since before my mom was even alive.

“Yes, yes, of course. I was in my study looking through some of the ancient texts to see if there was anything in there I thought may be helpful for our current terrorist situation, when I felt the most powerful blast of air rip through me,” he quickly explains.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Gaster, I lost control for a second and my powers slipped earlier. Everything’s fine. I’m fine.” Realizing he sensed my power slip, I feel like an ass for snapping at him. He rushed over here to make sure I was okay, and I yelled at him.

“No, Corentin, you don’t understand. It wasn’t your power or signature I felt. The power didn’t even come from Elementra. It’s in the nonmagical realm.”

Nonmagical realm. Impossible. There’s no way.

“You gotta be wrong, Gaster. It’s impossible for magic to be there, hence the name,” Caspian comments, speaking exactly what I’ve just been thinking but with a far shittier tone than I would’ve used.

“You doubt my judgment of this, Caspian,” Gaster replies in almost a whisper, causing the temperature to drop in the room instantly.

Shit. There aren’t many people I fear in this world, but a pissed off Gaster is up there.

“No, he isn’t doubting your judgment. It’s just there haven’t been magical abilities beyond the simple witches in the nonmagical realm in years, centuries. This seems unlikely,” I explain to defuse the situation Caspian’s big mouth just started.

“I don’t have time for this. I came to inform you, so you’re prepared for my return with whoever is wielding the power. That’s why I didn’t transport here. I’ll need my strength to transport there and back.”

“What?” I yell, taking a step closer to him. “Gaster, you’re not going to another realm alone, after you just said it was the most powerful air blast you’ve ever felt.”

“I am and I will,” he says so calmly, it feels like a bucket of ice water was poured over my head. “Corentin, I recognize the magical signature. It’s one I’ve felt many times before in my life. I must go and bring them home. Be ready in the yards.”

Before I can argue more, stating my case as to why he’s not fucking going, he transports out of my office, leaving me and Caspian standing here with our jaws wide and minds blown.

Who the fuck is this?

Four

Willow

Thank fuck that nightmare is over. It was one of the worst ones yet. So bad I still can’t seem to open my eyes.

“Wake up. We must hurry,” an urgent voice replies.

Who’s talking to me in my dream?

“Sadly, this isn’t a dream. You’re speaking out loud. You need to open your eyes for me.”

Fuck, that wasn’t a nightmare. Okay. Okay.

It takes more than a considerable effort to slowly get my eyes to peel open. Blinking a few times to try to clear my vision, the room finally comes into focus. The memories of what happened tonight flood back and I shoot straight up, regretting it immediately as pounding, awful, brutal pounding starts behind my eyes and my head’s so dizzy I’m pretty sure I’m going to vomit.

“Please wrap this around you. We must get out of here. There’s someone coming,” a strange, older man speaks quietly next to me.

“Do…do I know you?” I croak out, my voice hoarse, throat raw from my screaming.

“No, but I believe I know you. Please, we must hurry,” he urges, pulling his cloak off and wrapping it around my shoulders.

Banging at the door startles me out of my slow-moving thoughts and I jump. “Donald, open the door.”

Fuck, my father’s back. How long have I been out? Couldn’t have been too long. All the men are still lying in the same spot’s, unconscious, though there are a few grunting and groaning.

“Donald,” my father bellows.

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