Page 212 of The Dryad Storm

Toward the chaos of the West.

An image of Lukas holding up his wand just before he exploded the upper half of the Vo Mountain Range and a large portion of Vogel’s army with it resonates through my mind.

The pain in my chest becomes nearly unbearable.

“Elloren,” Valasca says, nudging my arm with hers, “I jest, but I’m happy for you and Yvan. Truly. So happy for you both.”

I swallow, my throat constricting. “I love Yvan, Valasca. With all my heart. But... I can’t help but think about Lukas in this moment.”

The dam breaks, my hand flying to my mouth as tears pool and I shudder against them.

Valasca nods and pivots to lean over the railing beside me, the two of us gazing toward the West. “Then think about him,” she says, and she sets her dark gaze back on me. “You loved him. You’re not betraying any of us by being honest about that. And you’re not betraying Yvan.”

Struggling, I blink back the tears. “It’s been difficult to reconcile my feelings for them both.”

She nods at this. “You loved Lukas. And he was cruelly taken from you. But his lovewasn’t.” She reaches over to gently tap my breastbone, right over my heart. “It’s forever there. Alongside your love for Yvan.” She gives me a deeply significant look. “Elloren, it’s important to keep your heart open in this world and embrace all the love you feel.”

I nod, bottom lip quivering, as Valasca straightens and draws me into a hearty hug.

“My faith in you was well-placed, Dryad,” she says as we hold each other tight and, for a moment, I let the tears flow. And surrender to my vast grief for Lukas while embracing my expansive love for Yvan.

“My faith in you was well-placed as well, Amaz,” I whisper, heartfelt, as I draw back from her.

Valasca grins. “Then let’s get to work.” Her expression turns lethally serious.“Tomorrow, we bring the full weight of the Prophecy down on the Magedom’s heads.”

I nod, a warrior energy suddenly rising around us both. I look toward Yvan and the Wyverns just as Gethindrile lifts his arm. The heavily Varg-warded Noi Fire Hawk perched on it takes wing and streaks across the sky, a translucent green, bubble-like shield bursting to life around it.

As it wings southwest to bring word of our battle plan to Tierney and Or’myr.

I say a quick prayer that the courageous hawk will find them before I turn back to Yvan and freeze as I find him giving me an unsettled look, the Zhilaan Forest’s equally disquieted energy suddenly blazing around our bond in a searching flow. A slim strand of Yvan’s invisible fire whips out toward the edge of my shoulder with what feels like a surge of longing before it yanks back, as if of its own volition.

Concern and confusion ignite through our bond as Yvan holds my gaze, a growing conflict in his eyes as my empathy picks up on a deeper well of his power I’ve never felt the extent of before, straining toward me but blocked from our bond, the flow of my own fire abruptly guttering toward his to no avail.

Our magical auras, locked into a desperate flow toward each other, unable to connect.

Chapter Ten

The Garden

Tierney Calix

Northern Vo River

“Open the shielding!” Tierney cries, her gaze pinned on the black Noi Fire Hawk hurtling through the Unbalanced storms toward the Vo River’s dome-shield, which she and Or’myr are struggling to hold over the Vo. The hawk’s wings beat the air, its form lit up in the night by the emerald light emanating from the ring of Varg runes orbiting it, a bubble-like translucent green shield coursing out from them.

Wasting no time, Or’myr slides his wand over the series of purple geo-runes marked on the wall before them.

A small opening snaps into being just in front of the bird, the roar of the surrounding storms suddenly battering Tierney’s sensitive ears.

The hawk soars through, and Or’myr swipes his wand over the runes before him. The shield’s hole snaps shut, and the sound of the battering storms is once again muffled.

Tierney sprints toward the hawk as it lands on the riverbank in a flurry of midnight feathers, its shielding blinking out of existence. The hawk sets its violet eyes on her, a scroll cylinder strapped to its leg. Wasting no time, Tierney retrieves the cylinder and pulls out a small missive. She rapidly scans it, struggling mightily against an almost violent upsurge of grief that has her gut heaving.

“Tierney,” Or’myr murmurs as he lowers himself beside her, holding out his palm for the missive.

Furious tears welling in her eyes, Tierney thrusts the missive toward Or’myr,and he takes it, her River’s increasingly frightened energy ramping up her distress as she rises.

“It confirms some of what I’ve already read in the Waters,” Tierney snarls, angry tears falling, but she doesn’t care as the salty tears slick her lips, her rage and grief overwhelming all other possible emotion. “The Zonor has beendestroyed,” she rages. “The Natural Matrix of the East has beendestroyed. The Dyoi Forest has beendestroyed. We’re holding on to Erthia’slast uncorrupted major Waterway.”

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