Page 123 of The Dryad Storm

“They speak the truth,” Yulan affirms, Ariel and Alder beside her, the injured heron hugging Yulan’s side, its wing deftly branch-splinted by Ariel, the branches secured by Alder’s conjured vines. Yulan sets her compassionate gaze on me. “Tell them what III revealed to you, Dryad’kin,” she gently encourages, her words of acceptance stunning me, my heart clenching tight around them. I can sense my giant raven flock converging around me, as well as Raz’zor’s bolstering line of invisible red flame.

I glance at Raz’zor, his eyes like two vermillion stars.

Speak, Dryad Witch, he prods in turn.

I look back to Vang Troi, Freyja, and the young Vu Trin soldier with the dragon shaved into her cropped hair who is named Hee Muur, or Heelyn, as some informally call her.

“III showed me that we need the impossible,” I say, grief for the Great Tree tightening my throat. “We need a massive paradigm shift if we’re going to win this war against the Shadow and have any type of future at all. Weallneed to heal our divisions and bind to the Forest.” I gesture toward the East, toward Noilaan. “If, by some miracle, we can come together as Dryad’khin, we need to quickly draw on our combined power and the power of the trees to extend our Dyoi Forest shielding over the entire Eastern Realm. And then, we need to travel southeast with great haste to Voloi to gain the Noi Conclave’s aid in bringingeveryonein this Realm to the Forest.”

Hee Muur narrows her dark gaze at me, incredulity twisting her features. “You truly want to bind everyone in the East to an increasinglyfragileForest?”

“Yes,” I return. “Because if the Forest falls, we all fall.” I look to Sylvan for guidance. He’s gone very still, his pine green eyes fixed on me.

“Go on, Dryad,” he quietly prods, sending a thin line of elemental energy out to my rootlines in a palpable show of support.

A swell of emotion tightens my throat in response to his display of alliance despite his terrible grief. An alliance I desperately want to prove myself worthy of.

“Vogel’s Shadow Wand is growing in power,” I say to Vang Troi, “but I think we can grow our power too.” I briefly meet Yvan’s gaze. “When Yvan joined with the Zhilaan Forest, I felt an increase in his power, and gained the ability to draw a line of that Forest’s power through my lines. There might be some way for us all to intensify and connect our power in this way.”

Yulan nods. “That’s how Forest power works,” she says. “Through connectivity. Link the trees’ roots, and their power amplifies. Cut them off from each other, and their power diminishes.”

“As Dryad’khin, I think we’re the same as the trees,” I say, looking pointedly toward Vang Troi’s surviving forces gathered around the distant bonfire. “If we cut ourselves off from each other, our power diminishes.” I turn back to Vang Troi. “And the Shadow wins.”

“This is unwise,” Freyja protests as she motions toward the leagues of Shadowed land. “We can’t bind ourselves to something whose magic we don’t understand that can be struck down inone day.”

“I’ll do it,” Trystan suddenly announces, rising. Love for my brother wells up as I meet his staunch gaze. “I’ll join with your Forest, Elloren,” he quietly continues. “I feel like it’s calling to me... its elemental power is tugging on my lines.”

I nod shakily, going on instinct now, the safe, sure world gone. But the Living World... it’s spread out before us.

Calling to usall.

Vothe is suddenly rising too. “I’m going with you,” he tells Trystan, taking his hand, their invisible lightning auras crackling to life around each other. Vothe casts a glance at the tree line. “I feel a draw as well... like the draw I felt to keep coming back to the Zonor.” He meets Trystan’s eyes, a smile tugging at his onyx lips. “And like the draw I feel to you, my Xishlon’vir.”

Trystan’s magic surges toward Vothe, and the shifter’s power meets it, full-on, in a storming caress. Hand in hand, they step toward the tree line, Sylvan and Yulan along with Alder, Rafe, Yvan, and I following.

Halting in front of the trees, Trystan and Vothe give each other one last, ardent look and place their palms on the same huge Dyoi Oak.

They disappear into the tree as one in a crackle of blue and white lightning and my chest is seized by emotion. I reach out to trace the hand-shaped marks filledwith their powers’ residual threads of lightning, concerned to be so suddenly parted from my younger brother, even though I’ve taken this journey myself.

Yvan’s hand comes to my shoulder, his touch a warm caress. “They’re going on faith,” he assures me.

“We all are,” Rafe agrees.

“I’ll speak to your trees,” Vang Troi suddenly announces as she stands.

“As will I,” Bleddyn volunteers.

“I’ll accompany you,” Ra’Ven says to Bleddyn before turning to Sage. “I trust you, tia’lin. This message of alliance rings true.”

“I’ll join in the tree festivities, as well,” Rivyr’el Talonir, the rainbow-decorated Elf, chimes in, tossing us all a dazzling grin as he gives Gwynn and Mavrik a look full of mischief. “I think a streak of color would lookspectacularin my hair. You lot can keep your lofty reasons.” And with that, Rivyr’el strides to the trunk of a huge oak and places his ivory, rainbow-nail-polished hand alongside Vang Troi’s, Bleddyn’s, and Ra’Ven’s.

Before I can blink, they’re all whisked into the trees, a spray of silver flashing against the trunk in Rivyr’el’s wake.

Our bonfire gutters dark, and a weighty stillness descends. We all turn toward Hazel, his eyes once again morphed to full black.

“You best bring the entire East to the Forest quickly,” Hazel urges, the ominous look on his face raising the hairs on my neck. “If Vogel destroys the slim amount of Natural Balance that’s left,” he warns, “Nature will slide into a Reckoning as merciless as the Shadow to try and regain it.” A pained look tightens his features. “It will bring the full might of Death to wide swaths of the Natural World. And the power ofevery single Deathkinwill be pulled into it.”

Chapter Three

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