Page 190 of The Dryad Storm

All the light in the room pulses Dark, mist in the shape of silver-glowing snakes rising around Hazel’s dark-clad form. “Death will come in ways that surpass your greatest nightmares,” he warns, his subterranean voice vibrating through my bones. “Disease. Famine. Swarms of insects. Plagues ofevery kind.”

Hazel takes a menacing step toward the Conclave, his Darkness pulsing through the room, harder this time. “We Deathlings will do what we can to hold off Nature’s Great Unraveling, but if you tip the Balance too far, we will not be able to stop what will come. And then the Shadow will pour into the chaos to consumeeverything.”

“All we are asking,” Yulan pleads, arms outstretched, “is that you come to the Forest with us and listen to the trees to gain understanding. If the East joins with the Forest before its foliage power goes dormant, we can merge and amplify our collective might and swiftly move against the Magedomtogether.”

Another tense silence descends before Niko Luun almost imperceptibly raises his palm.

Two Vu Trin sorceresses, one on each side of the Conclave dais, raise sapphire-glowing styluses. I flinch as a translucent dome snaps into being over the Conclave, cutting out all sound.

Yvan and I exchange a wary glance as the Conclave members speak to each other with emphatic gestures, Niko Luun’s expression stern as he confers with them all.

After a prolonged moment, Niko Luun nods to the Vu Trin stationed beside the dais, and they raise their styluses once more. The silencing dome vanishes, and my heartbeat accelerates as we await their decision.

“We are not guided by trees,” Niko Luun calmly states.

His words set off an explosion of energy through our combined Dryad’khin power, sounds of alarm and outrage rising as Hazel hisses, his Darkness strobing through the hall.

“We’re not asking you to bind to the Forest as we have,” Yvan snarls, anger scorching through his power.

“Just to hear the Forest out!” Oaklyyn growls, just as furious.

“You plot the East’s doom,” Vang Troi levels at them all.

“Silence!”Niko Luun booms back, his gaze fixing on Vang Troi. “Youforgetwho you are, Vanglira! True Noi’khin put their trust inVo on High!” He jabs his finger at the white dragon marked on the huge flag at his back. “Notintrees!”

“You will bring Death to your people,” Hazel hisses, his voice ratcheting in from every direction, my gut clenching as I take in the belligerence in every Conclave member’s eyes.

“Then bring your Death Reckoning, Fae’kin,” Niko Luun snarls back at Hazel. “Vo will lead usstraight through it. And then, she will restore this land with her Blessed Awakening after you have all beenstruck down!”

“I have seen Vo’s Watchers inside the trees,” Vang Troi rasps at Niko Luun, her tone shot through with ballistic urgency. “They stand with theForest!”

Niko Luun spits out a furious sound. “You imagine yourself a Vo’lonpriest?”

“Vo does not require the priestdom,” Vang Troi snarls back. “Vo cannot be controlled. Just like Vo’s Ahxhil Watcher birds cannot be controlled.”

The Lupines and Naga’s horde close protectively in around my allies and me, low growls rising, and I tense against the seismic power building in the room.

Yulan suddenly launches herself toward the Conclave, falling to her knees before them. “Do not do this thing,” she begs, her kindred heron rushing to her side, the bird’s wings agitatedly flapping. “Please, I beg of you, Honored Noi’khin,” she raggedly implores, “do not send this storm band out over our Forest and Water’kin.”

“It is already done,” Niko Luun quietly responds. “The order has been sent.”

My Dryad’khin and I are caught in a split second of frozen shock as every Vu Trin soldier in the hall draws their weapons, the entrance doors behind us snapping shut, the click of locks sounding.

Our communal Dryad’khin power ignites like a multitude of wildfires, my horde’s firestorm exploding through it. Naga’s hissing voice singes through our horde flame as she morphs to dragon form—We will fight our way out to that storm band and destroy it!

I catch my brother Rafe’s wild amber gaze, then Diana’s, unspoken understanding passing through us all as Mavrik and Gwynnifer draw twinned might into their palms, forming battle runes there, and Yvan gathers a cataclysmic level of fire power.

Naga whips her head back, opens her mouth and roars out a blast of fire at the hall’s ceiling at the same moment that Mavrik and Gwynn thrust their rune-marked palms forward.

A translucent golden dome-shield blinks into being around us, a gold rune marked on it that allows our magic to pass through.

Stone and wood rain down and Vu Trin snarl out commands from everydirection, rapidly conjuring thick, sapphire-glowing beams to stabilize the portion of ceiling Naga incinerated.

Seizing on their distraction, Yvan thrusts his violet-glowing palms forward, a snarl bursting from his throat as he hurls two fireballs through our shielding and into the hall’s huge, locked doors, instantly exploding them.

Yvan grabs my arm, and we lunge through the flames, our shield moving with us as we rush into a curved hall, while Mavrik and Gwynn force back Vu Trin with wind power. Yvan blasts through the door before us, and we race out onto the Wyvernguard’s terrace, wind now buffeting our forms, the mighty Vo River coursing past us. Mavrik and Gwynn bind the Vu Trin stationed there with golden vines as my allies swiftly retrieve their weapons, Sylvan tossing me one of his branches while Ra’Ven conjures a shimmering emerald Varg barrier inside the terrace doorway’s decimated entrance, walling off the Vu Trin inside the Wyvernguard.

“The storm band has yet to be released!” Vang Troi cries, pointing west.

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