Page 56 of The Dryad Storm

The Central and Eastern Continent’s Natural World about to fall to the Magedom’s Shadow.

And the entirety of Dryad and Fae power about to fall with it.

Chapter Twelve

Vu Trin Hunt

Vang Troi, high commander of the Vu Trin Forces

Wyvernguard, North Island command tower

Sixteen days after Xishlon

“The Black Witch’s allies have all fled,” the young Vu Trin soldier Heelyn stonily reports. “And the Resistance to Gardnerian Rule in the West has been smashed to pieces.”

High Commander Vang Troi bites back a groan of frustration over Heelyn’s unwelcome news as she stares the woman down from where they stand amidst a gathering of Vu Trin and potential allies in the Wyvernguard’s circular command tower. A ring of large, arching windows surrounds them, offering a panoramic view of the rune-shielded Vo River, the devastated city of Voloi, and the gray skies above.

As her mind processes this information, Vang Troi coolly takes in Heelyn’s straight-backed form, the young sorceress’s weapons and uniform a mirror of Vang Troi’s own, save for the metal high-commander headpiece gracing Vang Troi’s brow, two curving, steel dragon horns rising from it.

Like the other Vu Trin in the room, both Vang Troi and Heelyn are garbed in a black military tunic and pants with a line of silver runic star weapons affixed diagonally across their chests, curved runic swords at their sides, the weapons’ Noi runes glowing bright sapphire with a touch of emerald coursing over them from their anchoring Shadow-resistant Varg runes.

The Wyvernguard’s commander, Ung Li, and three of the Vu Trin’s surviving legion commanders wait silently for Vang Troi’s response to Heelyn’s report. Along with Queen Freyja Zyrr, the newly named and shockingly young monarchof the Amaz, and Clive Soren, head of the Keltish forces and former Western Realm Resistance leader.

Vang Troi notes that Queen Freyja is standing clear across the room from Clive. Two of Queen Freyja’s stony-faced Queens Guard soldiers, Teel and Sorcha, bracket her, both of them glaring at Clive, looking hells-bent on wielding the huge runic axes strapped across their muscular backs against the sole man in the room.

Vo preserve us, Vang Troi inwardly grinds out, clear she’s navigating the equivalent of a runic minefield trying to bring these varied groups together.

The East is devolving into chaos, with Southern Noilaan and the entirety of the Vu Trin navy embroiled in a war with the Selkies and other Ocean Peoples that her army can’t get to because the entire area was runically domed off by two shields they can’t break through, one cast by the Black Witch’s ally Gareth Keeler, the other a dense Shadow net cast by Vogel over Gareth Keeler’s shielding that blocked out their view into Southern Noilaan.

When Vang Troi ordered the Vu Trin’s Asrai Water Fae Division south to attempt to break through the dual shielding and to fight against the Shadow sea weapon positioned to its south, she was shocked to learn that Fyordin Lir, one of the Vu Trin’s most powerful Water Fae military advisers, had disappeared, all attempts at magically tracking him proving futile.

Powerful magic is clearly at play in his disappearance, and in the disappearance of all three Vu Trin Death Fae, including the spider-shifter Sylla Vuul, whose Deathkin webbing saved the Wyvernguard’s North Tower.

Vang Troi’s hands tighten on the hilts of the curved runic swords sheathed at her sides, her gaze flickering out of the tower’s ring of windows toward the Shadow-smoking rubble of the Wyvernguard’s leveled South Island. A gray dawn is breaking over the decimated Vo Mountain Range, their runic border wall beingslowlyrebuilt, Noilaan’s shieldinggone. The beautiful purple hue of Voloi’s forests has been stripped away, only the moody blue coloration of the Asrai and Deathkin warded Vo River remaining. The cropland surrounding Voloi is now tinted as gray as the skies above, the whole world seeming polluted by Vogel’s Shadow filth, the East’s food supply in serious danger.

“Both the Lupine alphas are gone?” Vang Troi inquires, setting her penetrating gaze back on Heelyn, tension rife in the tower chamber’s air.

Heelyn gives a grim nod. “Trystan Gardner is gone, as well. Along with SagellynZa’Nor, Ra’Ven Za’Nor and others... every ally of the Black Witch has disappeared and been rendered untraceable by runic magery.”

Vang Troi pivots her attention to Queen Freyja. “And your Dryad, Alder Xanthos?”

Freyja returns her hard look. “Gone and untraceable,” she replies. “Along with a flock of giant Issani Saffron Eagles.”

Vang Troi inwardly curses.

Oh, how we underestimated you, Elloren Gardner Grey.A shard of pain lances through Vang Troi’s war-hardened heart over the brutal murder of so many Noi’khin and the destruction of the tiered city of Voloi, the dangerous Shadow pollution seeping into a wide swath of Noilaan’s beautiful lands.

Never again will she so egregiously underestimate Vogel and the Black Witch.

A battle-ready simmer fills Vang Troi’s center, her aura of runic sorcery sapphire bright, grounding her as she turns back to Heelyn. “Any word on the Icaral of Prophecy, Yvan Guryev?”

Heelyn nods in affirmation. “His fire is being tracked as we speak.” The young sorceress glances toward the tower’s ebony, dragon-embossed door.

“Show them in,” Vang Troi directs.

Heelyn strides to the door, pulls it open, and steps back in silent invitation.

A woman of about Vang Troi’s age sweeps into the room like a firestorm. Her green eyes are shot through with incandescently lethal golden flame, her long hair a blazing Lasair Fae red. She bears a striking resemblance to the Icaral of Prophecy, her angular features as stunning as they are formidable.

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