Page 184 of The Dryad Storm

One of the soldiers angles her sword at Kirin, and sapphire ropes fly from its runes, instantly binding him, his hand wrested from Olilly’s as he’s reeled in.

“Kirin!”Olilly cries as she lunges for him only to be held back by both Nym’ellia and Effrey as Kirin kicks and wrestles against his bindings.

“Olilly!”Kirin frantically yells.

“Silence yourself!” Kirin’s father slashes back at him. “Noilaan is for theNoi!”

“Noilaan is forall!” Kirin defiantly levels back at him, eyes wild. He wrenches his gaze to Olilly’s. “I will find you!” he vehemently promises. “And Iwillfight with you!NOILAAN FOR ALL!”

A sob shudders through Olilly’s throat as soldiers close in around Kirin and he continues to cry out,“Noilaan for all!”His screams are soon muffled as he’s dragged onto the ledge, then through a stony corridor, his voice becoming barely audible, then gone, along with most of the soldiers and almost all the Noi citizens.

Devastation clenching her heart, Olilly is barely aware of Effrey’s and Nym’ellia’s grips growing gentler around her arms as they try to convey the danger here.

Fern erupts into hysterical sobbing, the child’s pain like a blade, twisting in Olilly’s chest.

“I want Mamma Sage!” Fern chokes out to Mora’lee as the child grips her threadbare cloth doll, which has Fern’s same pink braids and hue. “And Papa Ra’Ven! Whereare they?”

“We’ll do everything we can to get you back to them,” Mora’lee croons, a forced calmness to her features as she comes down to one knee and embraces Fern while both Fyn’ir and Ghor’li break into terrified wails, as well.

Feeling like she’s coming apart at the seams, Olilly shrugs off Nym’ellia and Effrey and stumbles away from her friends toward a small outcropping of onyx stalagmites rising from the floor, her gaze hooking on an outgrowth of purple crystal affixed to one of the conical formations, something deep inside her straining toward it. She shambles over and breaks it off from the stalagmite.

A tingle kicks up over Olilly’s skin as she runs her thumb over it, something trapped inside her sparking to life, as it always does when she handles purple stones.

Her friends close in beside her, and Olilly catches the looks of concern in Effrey’s and Nym’ellia’s purple and green gazes, as well as in the eyes of gentle Retta and ferocious Clover. A trembling Tibryl hugs Nym’ellia’s side, and the child’s vulnerability sparks the rise of courage inside Olilly.

“I’m done crying,” Olilly tells them all, her gaze fixed on the crystalline rock. “Powerless or not, they won’t send me or anyone we care about back to the West without a fight. Are you with me?” She glances pointedly at Tibryl, then looks at Nym’ellia, Effrey, Clover, and Retta full on, noticing the amethyst already gripped in Effrey’s hand.

“We’re with you,” Effrey vows, a subtle aura of violet crackling to life around the young Strafeling geomancer, Effrey’s resolve mirrored in Nym’ellia’s, Clover’s, and even timid Retta’s expressions.

Hundreds of huge Varg runes suddenly blast to life, suspended just below the huge cavern’s ceiling, yanking Olilly and her friends’ attention upward as shocked gasps resound. Ropes of glowing emerald blink into existence to connect the suspended runes, forming a huge net above them, the smaller Varg runes marked all over the cavern’s expanse and on every Varg weapon blinking out of existence.

“What is this?” Mora calls out to Fyon as she hugs the crying children close. “And why have our weapons lost their charge?”

Fyon curses as he scans the netted ceiling. “It would appear Noilaan has taken hold of the Varg power-siphoning runes we fabricated for their defense,” he grits out. He lowers his gaze, giving Mora a grim look. “They’re using our own power to trap us here. To turn the entire Sublands into a prison.”

Chapter Two

The East

Elloren Guryev

Eastern Realm

I watch with mounting horror as the Vu Trin storm band rises from the Vo Mountain Range’s apex. A contingent of close to twenty Vu Trin soldiers are flying toward us, the line of blue-glowing Noi runes inside the storm band increasingly obscured as its winds gain strength.

“The Noi runes embedded in that storm band,” Sylvan spits out, eyes crackling with outrage as he watches it like a mortal enemy, “they hold enough Nature-siphoning power to consume the elemental magic in our shieldingas well asthe Zonor River and Dyoi Forest, which will unshield the East and trigger acomplete Unbalancing.”

“And a full Death Reckoning,” Hazel hisses, the look of alarm in his abyssal eyes terrifying to behold, my uncle Wrenfir’s fiery aura whipping into a desperate embrace around the Death Fae Dryad.

My power empathy can sense, beyond a shadow of doubt, that they’re right. For a moment, fear tears at me so intensely, I feel as if my heart will rip from my chest and fly into the threatened Dyoi Forest and Zonor River, sheer desperation overtaking me as I dismount from Errilith.

Yvan’s hand closes protectively around my arm, his fire shuddering through the spitfire chaos of my power as I reach for the branch sheathed at my waist.

“Careful, Elloren,” he warns.

Raz’zor’s seething voice simmers through me, red-hot battle-fire running steadily through it.Conserve your magic, Dryad Witch.

“We need to strike that damned storm band from the skies,” Vothe seethes, bothhis eyes and those of the elderly Wyvern woman beside him incandescent with lightning.

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