Page 235 of The Dryad Storm

Wasting no time, they point their branches in the direction of the Verdyllion and murmur a spell in unison, wresting hold of what power they still can from the Void moons’ relentless pull.

A gigantic circle filled with golden runes blinks into being on the distant, Shadow-smoking earth, Vogel’s net of Shadow visible just under it, Mavrik and Gwynnifer’s multicolored net of shielding layered beneath both runic circle and Shadow net, the encircled portion of their shield rapidly shivering away.

Mavrik spits out a curse and exchanges a grim look with Gwynn.

“We’ve removed our Subland shielding,” Gwynn tells us, sweat beading both her and Mavrik’s brows, “but we can’t get through Vogel’s!”

The Shadow Wand’s fury pours through me, the war raging inside my head ramping up to agonizing heights as the Void tree clamps its branches down around both the Verdyllion and its tree at the same moment our runic firewall holding back Vogel’s army explodes into gray steam along with its Deathkin runes.

A terrible, thundering roar goes up, and the sea of Vogel’s forces launches toward us by land and air, Vogel’s four pyrr-demons leading the charge and morphing out of their glamours to reveal their fiery forms, smoke horns and lower halves made of spiraling grayed flame. Our Dryad’khin army strengthens our defensive line, the Eastern Wyverns wresting hold of the last of their unsiphoned power to blast a shield-wall made of crackling white lightning into existence before them, gray-fire explosions detonating against it, the demons ramming solidifying horns into it, sparks flying as the white lightning begins to gray. Yvan and other allies fall in with our forces while Ariel and Andras remain behind to guard the prone V’yexwraith. Ra’Ven, Gareth, Thierren, Wrenfir, and Lucretia draw weapons and sprint out to join the incoming battle.

My stomach drops as I meet the misty V’yexwraith’s multitude of eyes, its great maw pulling into a sickening smile as it looks at the Wand in my hand, the siphoning pull of the demon’s moons intensifying as the lightning wall turns completely gray.

The specter-like V’yexwraith lets out a ratcheting, earsplitting laugh that cuts straight through the magical explosions of battle and echoes off the moons aboveas our final defense falls, horror fires through my every line and the Shadow army rushes at our forces—

—just as Gwynn and Mavrik’s runic circle flashes with starbright light.

Startled, I turn toward it as an explosion of silver-green fire bursts into being inside its expanse.

I blink at it, surprise wresting hold. Because I can sense it’s not just any fire.

It’s a world-bending inferno ofWyvernfire.

Vogel’s circle of Shadow net scorches away, and I flinch back as a green dragon blasts through the fire, leaves amassed on its wings, branches for horns, bright silver lightning crackling around its body.

The Verdyllion Wand-Stylus gripped in the dragon’s silvery talons.

The circle of fire gutters out, and a new battle roar rises as scores of Smaragdalfar soldiers and freed Wyverns stream from the runic Subland opening, all of them wielding emerald-glowing Varg weaponry.

The Smaragdalfar soldiers rush toward our forces as they blast out a huge line of suspended emerald runes.

The runes fly over us and slam down in front of the bulk of Vogel’s army, tenuously walling them off as our forces make quick work of those soldiers, dragons, and Shadow beasts remaining on our side of the Varg wall, while other Smaragdalfar conjure a compact Varg shield to contain the V’yexwraith and pyrr-demons.

The green dragon lands before me and rapidly contracts into a slender female figure, her leafy wings flashing with forking silver light, urgency crackling in her eyes.

“Wynter!”I choke out, relief slashing through me that’s so staggering it feels like vertigo as the Void tree lets out a skull-rattling snarl through my mind.

Wynter is garbed in Smaragdalfar battle armor, her newly green-tinted face and form surrounded by a swirling, verdant aura—the same aura, I sense, that swirled around the Great Tree III. Her silver eyes are edged with starbright fire, and lightning horns rise from her alabaster hair, a translucent Watcher kindred perched on her shoulder.

The prismatic Verdyllion Wand-Stylus gripped in her hand.

Wynter’s blazing eyes immediately find first the Shadow Wand in my hand, then Ariel in dragon form, her eyes widening as she obviously recognizes Ariel’s lightning. Ariel is pacing near the V’yexwraith’s newly Varg-bound form as our collective power continues to diminish, the Void moons swiftly locking hold of the Smaragdalfar army’s power.

Their Varg wall rippling gray.

A shocked breath pulls through Wynter’s throat as her gaze darts from Ariel to the moons and back again, a streak of Wynter’s aura blazing fervidly out to encircle Ariel.

“Can you take out those moons with the Verdyllion?” I press Wynter.

Before Wynter can answer, a severe-faced Smaragdalfar woman with a half-shaved head sprints toward us, Wynter’s now green-tinted brother, Cael, and his equally greened Second, Rhys, running in behind the woman along with a willowy, long-tressed Smaragdalfar woman and two young male Subland soldiers.

“Yyzz’ra!” Mavrik calls to the severe-faced woman.

“Gather your light sorcerers around the Verdyllion Shard!” Yyzz’ra bellows. “It needs seven lines of light!Now!”

Time seems to pause as my power empathy desperately searches for seven allies still holding on to some semblance of their light power. I can sense unbound reserves of light power remaining inside Wynter, Sage, Gwynn and Mavrik, Rivyr’el, Marina, and myself, everyone else’s light magic being swept into the Void moons, including every trace of Alaric’s and Nerissa’s powers.

“We only have six conduits of light power,” I tell Yyzz’ra. “Gwynn and Mavrik’s magic flows asone.”

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