Page 3 of The Dryad Storm

The runes slam into the shield and are absorbed, Vestylle’s Varg power racing over the translucent green barrier and overtaking the gray just as Vogel levels another blast of Shadow power at their barrier. Its surface punches in farther this time, Alder’s desperation skyrocketing.

Azion isso close.

“Let me GO!”Alder rages at Vestylle.

“NO!”Vestylle snarls back at her, just as Alcippe Feyir races out of the Queenhall and takes hold of one of Alder’s tethers, the huge rose-hued Amaz warrior aiding Vestylle in dragging Alder backward.

“The Mages want to trap you and take hold of you!” Vestylle grinds out. “Just like they took Wynter and Valasca as their prisoners!”

“Azion!”Alder cries, half hearing Vestylle as she struggles against her bonds and is towed by both Vestylle and Alcippe toward the doorway.

“You willlive, Dryad’kin!” Vestylle insists as they near the door, the sorceress’s voice breaking with emotion. “You will live to avenge Azion!”

“No... NO!”Alder screams as she’s pulled through the open door and Vogel’s viperlike expression turns venomous.

“We’ll track you down, tree filth,” Vogel promises, giving Damion Bane a quick, prodding look.

Damion shoots Alder a smile and grips Azion’s head, then wrenches it around so hard Alder can hear the crunching break.

“No!”she screams again, her whole world caving in around her as she senses Azion’s pulse cease.“NO!”

Damion Bane’s amused chuckle is the last thing Alder hears before she’s hauled down the stone stairs, screaming, the entire world reduced to the shattering of her heart. She continues to scream, barely noticing herself being yanked through a winding tunnel and thrown through the shimmering gold interior of the last remaining charged portal, set for the East.

Alder hurtles out of the portal’s golden maw and is thrust into a purple Forest with gray-tinged leaves, her stomach heaving.

Her grayed hands slap down on violet grass, and she gasps for breath. She looks around frantically, not knowing how long she’s been caught in the portal’s lag.

Has it been days? Weeks? She’s certain the lag was significant, with so many people traveling such a vast distance through the portal, the lag longer still for the last ones through.

Beyond the trees’ purple canopy, she can just make out a decimated mountain range. Its upper half looks like it’s been blasted away, tendrils of Shadow rising from it, the sight increasing her alarm.

Alder’s bonds dissolve, and she springs up, whirls around, and leaps back towardthe portal only to find herself stumbling straight through its fading form.

“Azion!”she cries with such force she almost vomits, her legs buckling as the last of her magic shreds inside her, the remaining traces of her green glimmer turning full gray.

Overcome by despair and the soul-crushing sensation of her dying distant Forest, she falls to her knees. The heartbreaking image of the tortured Azion and the sound of his last pained cry tear through her devastated mind again and again andagain.

Alder throws back her head and wails, dropping her now lifeless branch to the ground, her kindred gone, her Forest gone.

Her Dryad heart destroyed.

She remains there, gutted by grief, knowing the only reason she survived the murder of her kindred Forest is that her lineage is not full Dryad.

She rises shakily from the purple brush as Vestylle, Alcippe, and a clutch of Amaz soldiers step toward her, their faces as grave as the overcast sky.

Growling, Alder springs at Vestylle and shoves her with the last of her strength.

Vestylle stumbles backward, looking distraught. “I’m sorry,” she chokes out, tears glazing her silver eyes. “Alder, I’m so sorry—”

“Leave. Me.Be,” Alder snarls back in Dryadin, not caring that Vestylle doesn’t understand the language. Not caring aboutanything.

Lips trembling, Vestylle holds up her palms in surrender.

Alder turns and stumbles away from them all, shambling toward the edge of the purple clearing, before her legs give way and she crumples into a magic-depleted heap.

“Leave me alone!”she hisses at any Amaz who tries to come near, knowing she’s now a destroyed thing,noneof them understanding.Noneof them of Dryad blood. With Azion and her kindred Forest, she was never broken, never alone, even though it was often a lonely path, being the sole Dryad’kin amongst the Amaz. Butnow... now she is truly alone and broken, despite her bonds to her adopted people. She’s forever forsaken without her Forest, like an animal whose habitat and sustenance has been annihilated, her rootlines stripped bare.

Shattered, Alder sits for a long time and watches the Amaz soldiers come and go, until dusk descends and thunder rolls across the bleak gray sky.

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