Page 251 of The Dryad Storm

Or’myr’s stylus and Tierney’s palms are pressed to their Vo shield’s ever-thinning surface, this Western-facing wall of their shielding set down inside the Forest bracketing the Vo’s Western bank. Their arms tremble against the Shadow storm’s relentless assault, lethal winds battering their entire shield, the storm a roar in Or’myr’s ears, every Xishlon moon he’s conjured sizzled away, Fyordin’s distant power rapidly dissipating.

“My power’s almost tapped out,” Tierney cries over the din, her voice strained with an agony that shears straight through Or’myr’s heart.

They won’t be able to hold their shield much longer.

Or’myr meets Tierney’s gaze in a mutual look of terrible knowing as he readies himself to pull Tierney into a protective embrace when the last reserves of their power run out. Through their Deathkin bond, he can sense her preparing to do the same, a strand of her magic spiraling ever tighter around his.

Tierney’s look of devastation turns to one of impassioned rebellion. “I love you,” she declares with the force of an Erthia-tilting vow.

A shred of Or’myr’s rapidly diminishing lightning forks through their bond. “I love you too,” he says, passion for her pounding through every vein as he prepares to sweep her up before the Shadow crashes through the shield, so they can, at least, die in each other’s arms. “I will love you forever, Tierney’lin.”

“Kiss me as we meet our end,” Tierney rasps, voice splintering. “Your lightning be damned. I want this to end with your lips on mine.”

Or’myr nods tightly, defiant love flashing through their bond, both of them ready, he knows, to let this last kiss be their final cry of rebellion against the Shadow’s triumph.

Another punch of Shadow crashes against their shield, forcing it inward, their heels skidding against soil, another crack of thunder booming, the storm relentlessly advancing toward the Vo River at their backs, ready to siphon up its elemental power.

Growling out a curse, Or’myr digs in his heels, ready to send the very last shred of his power into the shielding, when a blast of natural magic suddenly shocks through its expanse.

Flashing in from the South.

Its force expands outward, the current of power colliding with Or’myr’s front like a wall of hot static, his feet skidding against earth as both he and Tierney are blasted backward.

Or’myr’s back hits a tree trunk, the breath knocked from his lungs, his remaining shred of lightning cast into forking chaos. Concern for Tierney coursing through him, he turns to find her slumped on the ground. He lunges toward her, drops to his knees, and brings his hand protectively to her shoulder. She holds up a reassuring palm, appearing dazed as she takes in the shield-wall before them, which is now pulsing with every hue of prismatic color as it slowly pushes outward, battering against the Shadow storm to encompass more and more of the Vo River’s adjacent Forest.

“What’s happening?” Tierney gasps.

A hugeCRACKsounds above, and they both flinch. Their heads jerk up just as chromatic lightning sizzles through the shield and it punches outward in every direction, forcing back the storms, blue sky opening overhead.

They give each other a quick, wide-eyed look, a surge of shock flashing through their bond. Tierney springs up and sets off toward her River at a sprint and Or’myr jolts up to race after her, the two of them darting out of the Forest and onto the Vo’s western bank.

The whole world flashes violet, so bright that Or’myr skids to a halt and yanks up his forearm to protect his eyes. The flash rapidly recedes to reveal a purple moon shimmering into being just above their shielding.

All the breath stutters from Or’myr’s chest. “Someone’s sending us a message,” he barely manages, not daring to hope.

Tierney rushes into the River and falls to her knees in the Vo’s shallow edge,throwing her palms down through the water to its bed.

She gasps and turns to him. “Holy gods, Or’myr. There’s a new Great Tree. Its image flashed into my mind the moment my palms touched the Waters. Its power isfloodingthe Vo shielding.” Tears are suddenly streaking down her cheeks, powerful feeling rushing through their bond. “The entire Vo,” she says, forcing the words out through a strangled sob, “it’s been reshielded. But not just my River. Theentire surviving Easthas been reshielded.”

Movement in the sky to the south catches their attention, and they both turn as a pale dragon soars toward them. Two Mages with gold-flashing eyes are carried on the dragon’s back, a young man and a young woman, two flame-hued hawks flying behind them, purple branches and leaves marking the dragon’s pale wings.

“Raz’zor,” Or’myr murmurs as the dragon, Mages, and hawks soar closer.

“I sense incoming Asrai power,” Tierney rasps, pointing at the Vo.

Or’myr follows her gaze to the River just as four Asrai Fae burst up from the Waters and launch into a sprint toward them, quickly followed by six more. Raz’zor lands beside them with a heavythump.

Thrown, Or’myr meets Raz’zor’s crimson gaze before surveying the curiously golden-eyed couple on Raz’zor’s back—Mages, yet not Mages. Or’myr’s brow knits in confusion over their deeper-than-usual green hue, the rainbow streaks in their hair and the chromatic light flashing at the edges of their irises.

“Vogel is dead,” the male Mage announces as he approaches, a series of branches instead of wands sheathed at his sides, one of the hawks perched on his shoulder. “Slain by your cousin, Elloren Guryev.”

Or’myr exchanges a shocked look with Tierney, not only in response to the news of Vogel’s death, but to hear that Elloren now bears Yvan Guryev’s name.

Well, it’s about damned time, he thinks, unable to suppress a shocked smile.

“The Magedom has been defeated,” the golden-eyed woman adds. Or’myr’s gaze flicks over the glowing gold fastlines marked on both her hands and wrists and the man’s, his heartbeat a hammer.

“Asrai!” one of the Water Fae calls to Tierney as she approaches, tears glassing the willowy, deep-blue woman’s eyes.

---