Page 139 of The Dryad Storm

The carpet of ticks flows back into the Forest as quickly as it came.

“You do not fear me,” Hazel says to Wrenfir, seeming deeply thrown.

Wrenfir huffs out an incredulous sound. “I embraced Death Fae as my allies from the age of thirteen on,” he snaps. “I know you havebite. But take care, Primordial. I might bite back. I have magic of my own.”

Their eyes remain locked for a protracted moment, and I look away, feeling like I’m intruding on something that just tilted toward the private.

“I will not draw your blood,” Hazel promises Wrenfir, his tone holding what feels like formal Death Fae apology in it.

Wrenfir’s gaze slides languidly up and down Hazel’s slender form, his smile turning wicked. “Oh, I might let you, Deathling. But only if you ask meverynicely.”

Hazel gapes at him, then barks out a surprised laugh that has Wrenfir’s smile broadening, the tension between them bizarrely broken as Wrenfir strokes his bobcat’s head.

Hazel abruptly shudders, his body stiffening, the gray glow around his irises intensifying as Wrenfir’s power is cast back into fitful flares.

“I’m getting flashes of Vogel,” Hazel tells us, and we listen, rapt, as he conveys the rise of a new Black Witch—Fallon Bane—as well as the fall of the continent’s center, an invasion of Ishkartaan underway. “Vogel has more raven spies throughout the East,” Hazel conveys, “and likely throughout this Forest. Be vigilant. He seeks to unravel any alliance that could form between all of us under this dome.”

“Well, we’re doing a bang-up job of that all on our own,” Bleddyn grouses, before casting Hazel a wary look. “Let’s just make sure we keep close tabs on you, Deathkin. This link of yours is risky, whether you think it is or not.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Wrenfir offers, his gaze swinging to Hazel withconfrontational force as Hazel’s eyes flick toward him and fix hard, all the light surrounding us briefly shuddering Dark once more as their power jolts toward each other.

“Is there any way of knowing when Trystan and Vothe will emerge from the Forest?” I ask Sylvan.

“And what of Lucretia?” Jules Kristian puts in, a haggard desperation roughening his tone. I look at him in concern, Jules having adamantly refused to enter the Forest even though he seems torn over his decision.

Yulan is studying Jules with a look of deep sympathy. “I do not know when or where any of these Forest’khin will emerge,” she answers.

An invisible, devastated rush of water and wind power has me turning toward Thierren, and I catch him glancing toward the Shadow wasteland. I can easily guess at the turn of his thoughts, the falcon kindred on his shoulder agitatedly ruffling its night-purple wings in a show of understanding. Because Sparrow is out there, somewhere. Perhaps caught up in the wastelands with Lucretia.

Trapped in Vogel’s Shadow.

Yvan turns to me and our eyes meet, fire sizzling through our bond. “I’m going to arrange a meeting with my mother and try and bring her to our side,” he says.

“And I’ll work on swaying my forces to do the same,” Vang Troi announces.

“I’ll accompany you,” Freyja Zyrr calls out, Hee Muur echoing her offer.

Ra’Ven holds up his stylus. “I’ll cast Varg power connection runes on our shielding just in case you’re successful,” he says to Vang Troi. “They’ll speed a linkage of their power to ours if they join with the Forest.” He turns to Sylvan. “Can you show us how to strengthen our spellwork with Forest power?”

Sylvan nods. “We can.” Sylvan meets my gaze. “We can make use of your foliage amplified magic to aid us.”

“My power is yours,” I offer, but find myself hesitant to release Yvan’s hand as the heat of our bond revs up. I exchange a knowing look with him, the sudden reluctance to part sputtering through our flame as offers of aid sound out around us.

Battling our draw, Yvan and I let go of each other just as Jules Kristian gets up and walks decidedly away from us all, making for the tree line.

“Where are you going?” I call to him, concerned.

Jules swings around, walking backward now, a tortured look on his face. “To scour every inch of this Forest for some sign of Lucretia.” And then he turns away without slowing and disappears into the prismatic Forest.

Chapter Six

Living Library

Lucretia Quillen

Northern Dyoi Mountain Range

Lucretia is pulled through the Forest’s dark embrace for an expanded time, drawn along the thread of a force that runs through the heart of the Natural World, every one of her rootlines lit up bright with it.

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