Page 145 of The Dryad Storm

“Come to the Forest,” Vothe begs of her, urgency crackling around them all.

Seeming dazed, Vothe’s great-aunt nods and lets them lead her to the riverbank’s tree line. Lets them guide her palms to a River Oak’s rough, deep-purple trunk.

Sithendrile stiffens and gasps as the golden lightning crackling over her skin flashes to brighter life and she’s pulled into the tree.

Vothe whooshes out a shuddering breath, his palm to the bark, turmoil slashing through him. “My brother, Geth,” he forces out, “he leads the Zhilaan’whuur.” He looks at Trystan, desperate. “We can’t let the Zonor and Dyoi Forest fall... but how can I fight my own brother?”

“You won’t,” Trystan rejoins, his hand coming to Vothe’s shoulder in an unflinching show of support. “We’ll keep the Zhilaan’whuur walled off from both our Waters and our Forest.”

Vothe’s skin shivers in response to the bolstering feel of Trystan’s touch as they stand there for what seems like an eternity, waiting.

Night has descended by the time Vothe’s great-aunt emerges, completely encased in dark purple bark, her form softly illuminated by the lightning crackling over the dome-net above.

Vothe and Trystan step back as Sithendrile rapidly morphs back into herself, both gold and Zonor-blue lightning now sizzling over her skin and dark wings as she fans them powerfully out.

“Isee,” Sithendrile raggedly manages, her eyes wide. She raises her III-marked palm, Zonor-blue coursing through the image. “We need all of Zhilaan with us in this fight—”

Her words cut off as a lightning-spitting storm band suddenly appears abovewhat’s left of the Vo Mountain Range.

“Holy Vo,” Sithendrile hisses. “They’re sending a portion of their power outnow!”

Alarm explodes through all three of them as the storm band begins to avalanche toward the Zonor. Guttural growls escaping them all, they thrust branches and palms forward, lashing their storming power into their shield and tethering it there before sending a wall of energy high up from its apex to prevent flight over their dome-shield’s expanse.

The storm band crashes into their shielding with a concussiveBOOM, then draws back and hits it again, then again, each Zhilaan’whuur blow sending a frisson of potent energy down Vothe’s spine. But their shield holds, keeping the powerful storm band at bay.

The sky begins to clear, the dense lightning-spitting clouds parting and then dissipating. Three Zhilaan’whuur fly in, illuminated by the lightning dome, and Vothe immediately senses his brother’s energy.

“That’s Geth in the lead,” he tells Trystan, every hackle rising. “I’m going to let him through.”

Trystan nods, and they cast a defensive barrier over themselves and Sithendrile before opening a hole in their shield.

Geth feels like a barely contained storm as he soars in and lands before them, his white-flashing eyes blazing with a violence Vothe has rarely witnessed in his thoughtful, measured brother’s expression. Geth’s gaze rakes over the mating mark on Trystan’s shoulder with a look of combative fury, his face twisting into an expression of open confusion over Trystan’s altered appearance before he takes in the blue-and-white lightning coursing over Vothe’s skin and the blue-and-gold power forking over Sithendrile’s.

He gives them both spearing looks of disgust. “What inall the hellshave you done?”

“Hear us out, Geth,” Vothe implores, grasping for every shred of their history of closeness. “Please, my brother—”

Geth snaps his teeth at Vothe.“Get. Out. Of. Our. Way,”he hisses, his eyes flicking damningly toward Trystan.

“No, Geth,” Vothe snarls back. “We can’t lose any more of the Natural World—Vogel’s already destroyed too much of it. If you bring your full power through here, you’ll destroy both the Zonor and the Dyoi Forest, and the Natural Matrix willfall. Its very tether on the weather willfall. It will be weather chaos. And even the Zhilann’whuur will not be able to rein it back in!”

“What are you talking about?” Geth growls back, his eyes flashing with rage. “Wecontrol the weather! Vogel is at our doorstep! And you speak of protectingrivers and trees?”

“I speak of staving off the end of theentire Balance of Nature,” Vothe throws back, incensed, desperate. “The old ways of warfare won’t work anymore. We might as well wage war onourselves!”

“Gethindrile,” Trystan tries, firm and unrelenting, “just hear us out.”

Geth shoots Trystan a murderous look. “Silence,Fae Crow!”

“Silenceyourself, Geth,” Sithendrile fires back, a circle of gold-and-blue lightning crackling up from the ground to surround her. “They are trying to tell you somethingvital.”

Geth glares at both her and Vothe, rage sheening his eyes. “You’re proving yourselves to be traitors to the entire East. Is that what you want? Am I supposed to take down my own family?” His voice splinters, his power infused with an upsurge of tortured conflict. “If you don’t relent, Iwillwage war on you both!”

Trystan’s power rises, dwarfing even Sithendrile’s and Geth’s, Vothe’s hair prickling from the static spitting from his aura’s edges. “This is what Vogel wants,” Trystan levels at Geth, his voice low and adamant. “This fracture between us—” he motions between Geth and himself “—and between everyone who needs to stand together with the Natural World. It will be ourundoing.”

Geth gives Trystan a look of blazing incredulity. “You havecorrupted my brother. You have brought him and now my great-aunt down a path ofruin. I will kill you myself when we sweep through here in storm andfury.”

And then Geth takes flight, bolting into the air before pausing to hover just above them as he points a damning finger. “Vothendrile, you are my brother,” he grits out, his voice breaking with emotion, “but I willmow you downin a heartbeat if you stand in my way of protecting the entire East. You have beenfully warned.” He glares at their great-aunt. “Andyou... you aredeadto me.”

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