Page 185 of The Dryad Storm

“We will not let them takeour river!” Trystan snarls.

I’m instantly snapped into a shocked calm by my younger brother’s loss of composure, a maelstrom of rebellious energy crackling through his magic. The irony hits me—Trystan has always been the cool and collected one. The last time I had to calm him down was when he was a small child, afraid of thunder, and now my brother is mated to a storm Wyvern, the two of them able to conjure their own formidable lightning and cloud-ripping tempests.

“We can’t war with them,” I caution Trystan, regaining my senses as peals of thunder roll through the gathering tempest. “We’ll deplete our power even further. We’re good as dead if we do that, with Fallon’s Shadow winter looming.”

“Elloren’s right,” Yvan grimly agrees, meeting Vothe’s and Trystan’s martial stares with one of his own. “We have toalign with them.”

My gaze slides back to the incoming Vu Trin as Yvan takes my hand. His Wyvern-warm grip closing around mine fires up our bond. Our eyes meet in a flash of heat, the surge of warmth enabling me to draw in a stream of his steadying power as the incoming Vu Trin soldiers slow to a hover above the Zonor’s lightning-coated shielding. Two of them, in full dragon form, break away from the rest to soar in closer. White lightning forks over the Wyverns’ onyx scales, one of them carrying a spike-haired Vu Trin soldier with a sturdy build, the woman wearing the same silver dragon-horn headpiece that adorns Vang Troi’s head.

Recognition hits, and I blanche.

The full attention of Yvan’s fire snaps through my fire. “What’s the matter, Elloren?” he presses, his violet eyes burning into mine.

“I know that sorceress,” I answer. “She’s the one who tried to kill me months ago in the Agolith Desert. Then again in Voloi.”

“Her name is Quoi Zhon,” Vang Troi states, her sapphire aura of power intensifying.

Rivyr’el spits out a bitter laugh as he shoots Vang Troi a jaded look. “Well, it seemsyou’vebeen replaced as high commander of the Vu Trin.” His prism eyes flash toward me. “Andyou’vepicked a rather inconvenient choice of enemy.”

“That’s my father, Hizar’drile, and brother, Gethindrile, with her,” Vothe growls, the angst shooting through his power only increasing my concern.

“We seek an alliance with you!” Vang Troi booms out to Quoi Zhon and Vothe’s father and brother before cutting a severe glare toward Trystan. “Let them in.”

Trystan shoots Vang Troi a belligerent look but complies with her order. He raises his branch toward the shielding and grits out a spell, and a small hole opens.

The two Wyverns and Quoi Zhon fly in and they land before us. Quoi Zhon’s compact form deftly slides off the larger Wyvern’s back, her dark eyes meeting mine with a formidable flash of loathing. Vothe’s father and brother swiftly morph to their human winged forms, a straight-backed older male and a younger male who looks to be close to Vothe’s age. Quoi Zhon and the Wyverns all wear the same Vo’lon faith necklace that graces Trystan’s neck, an image of the dragon goddess, Vo, carved into each necklace’s central ivory bead. Both Wyverns’ eyes pulse with furious white lightning as they take me in, and I note how strongly Vothe resembles not just them but the elderly Wyvern woman with the gold lightning-spitting eyes allied with him and Trystan, all four Wyverns possessing the same elegant features and tall, muscular builds.

“Father.” Vothe greets the older male warily. His gaze swings to his brother. “Geth,” he says, his tone clipped and cautious as his invisible power whorls around Trystan.

Visible threads of lightning fork from the two Wyverns’ forms as Hizar’drile and Gethindrile shoot glares at Trystan, then at the elderly Wyvern woman, who bares her teeth in response.

A mist of sapphire power springs to life around Quoi Zhon, strong enough to rival the strength of Vang Troi’s. “Vang Troi,” Quoi Zhon snarls, pointedly omitting “Nor,” the Noi title of respect, her hands gripping the hilts of the runic swords sheathed at her sides. “Why are you here with the Crow Witch? The witch you set out toslay.”

Anger at the slur flashes through Yvan’s fire, but he keeps it in check as a harder tang of sapphire power shivers into being around Vang Troi, bright as suspended flame, her expression taking a turn for the lethal. “I am here because our Dryad’khin force bringsvital newsto the East. This fight is not what we thought it was. And remaining ignorant of its true nature will ensure the downfall of theentire Eastern Realmalong with the entirety of Erthia!”

“Wait,” Quoi Zhon sharply bites out. “Your ‘Dryad’khin force’? Who exactly are you aligned with?”

“With the Natural Matrix of Erthia,” Vang Troi answers.

Naga morphs to human, her dark, powerful wings snapping emphatically out. “Thatmustbe the center of our new alliance, Unbroken Ones,” she hisses, her golden wildfire eyes burning into Quoi Zhon and the Wyverns bracketing her. “Above every country and Realm.”

“If you release that storm band,” Sylvan adds as he levels his deep-green finger toward it, “you will bring the Natural World to the precipice ofcomplete annihilation.”

“What is this Fae nonsense?” Quoi Zhon demands of Vang Troi.

“You cannot send out this storm band,” Vang Troi commands in turn. “It will playrightinto Vogel’s hands.”

“Words do not suffice to describe the danger,” Queen Freyja Zyrr chimes in. “We implore you, Nor Quoi Zhon, to connect with the Forest and hear the trees out.”

Quoi Zhon shoots Freyja an incredulous glare. “Thetrees? Have you all gonemad?” She levels a condemning finger at me. “Has the Crow Witch ensorcelled you and the Icaral both?”

Yvan’s anger flashes bright through our bond. “No one has ensorcelled me,” he bites out, as my own protest rises, hot and harsh.

“I’m not a Crow Witch,” I emphatically level at Quoi Zhon. “I’m aDryadWitch. And I fight for Erthia and everyone here,notthe cursed Magedom.”

Hate flashes in Quoi Zhon’s eyes as the auras of both Vothe’s father and brother crackle invisible lightning daggers at me.

Hizar’drile’s gaze swings to Vothe. “You stand by and let this witchlive?” he hisses. “Have you forgotten she nearly destroyed all of Voloi a little over a month ago?” He thrusts a damning, black-clawed finger toward Trystan. “And then, you take this Crow filth, the brother of thiswitch, as yourmate?”

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