Page 58 of The Dryad Storm

Sweet Holy Vo, preserve us, Vang Troi grinds out in the back of her mind, but she beats back her resurgence of frustration.

“Regardless of the Shard-Stylus’s true name,” Vang Troi says, “the Black Witch was clearly not its Bearer, but itskidnapper. And now, we mustreclaimit.” Her stance tightens, military formal. “My allies, we are in a race against time to slay the Black Witch, rescue the Icaral of Prophecy, and take hold of both the Wand-Stylus of Myth and Vogel’s Shadow Wand. If we fail in these tasks, not only the Eastern Realm, but the entirety of Erthia will fall to the Magedom’s Shadow.”

A potent silence descends. Most everyone in this room is old enough to remember the last Black Witch’s sweep into the East and her cruel reign of fire. And Elloren Gardner Grey’s attack on Voloi hammered home the horrific, inescapable point—Elloren’s power dwarfs her grandmother’s.

“The Prophecy’s time ishere,” Hung Xho proclaims, and Vang Troi is hard-pressed to disagree. Yvan Guryev’s prophesied triumph over the Black Witch is essential, not just for the survival of the East, but for all that is good on Erthia.

Vang Troi’s gaze sweeps over those in the room, the path forward solidifying.“Send a larger contingent of our most elite trackers after the Black Witch’s allies. And prepare to portal northwest.” She hardens her expression, growing predatorially focused. “We will meet Vogel’s forces with storm and fury,” she vows. “Together, we will fight them and hunt down the Black Witch.Together, we will slay Elloren Gardner Gray and rescue Yvan Guryev.” Ferocity burns hot through her core of sapphire power. “Andtogether, we will strike down Vogel and his ‘Most Holy Magedom.’?”

Chapter Thirteen

Forest Divination

Alder Xanthos

Warded cenote cavern, Vo Forest, north of Voloi

Sixteen days after Xishlon

“Elloren is no longer under Vogel’s control,” Alder Xanthos states before growing quiet, letting her words sink in.

Elloren’s allies surround her in the cenote sinkhole’s sheltered, belowground depths. Overcast light shines down through the circular, warded opening above. The cenote’s underground lake is mirror-still beside them, reflecting the waterfalling violet roots of the Noi Oak that rises like a sentinel from the cenote’s upper edge.

Alder slides her hand over one of the oak’s cascading roots, lifting her gaze toward the interconnected Alfsigr and Varg glamouring runes hovering over the cenote’s entrance—runes to glamour the hole to appear, to those above, like a mass of stone and repel tracking spells. To defend against Vu Trin attack.

A military hunt is underway for every possible ally of the Black Witch. Alder’s ability to summon and speak with eagles, including the small eagles of Eastern Realm, is the only thing that enabled her to evade Vu Trin and Amaz capture and quickly locate this hiding place of Elloren Gardner Grey’s supporters.

The eagles of Noilaan have proved to be far better trackers than even the most elite Vu Trin.

Alder’s Dryad rootlines abruptly seize, pulled taut, a vision from the tree root flowing in and overtaking her empathic mind, tree after tree being blasted to bits in explosions of Shadowfire as Vogel’s forces attack the last remaining league of her Caledonian Forest in the Western Realm.

“No...”Alder rasps, devastation gripping hold of her lines. She shuts her eyestight against the nightmare consuming her Forest, the Natural World being torn to shreds...

“Alder.”

The kindness in Trystan Gardner’s voice cuts through the agony, his gentle hand now on her shoulder. Trembling, Alder opens her eyes, the vision fading to reveal the angular green face of Elloren’s younger brother, who is down on one knee beside her.

“MyForest!” Alder sputters to him as another vision blasts through her mind—images of terrified, burning animals, trees burning andscreamingfor her...

An aura of comfort flows in around her as the second vision fades, the energy warm and embracing. She looks up at the canopy of the cenote cavern’s Noi Oak sentinel as the tree sends an aura of invisible branches to gently brush Alder’s back and arms, the loving oak like a child caught up in a war, desperate to give comfort to a loved one. Which both shatters Alder’s heart anew and stokes her courage.

Vogel will be coming for this new kindred Forest of mine too, she knows.He’ll be coming for this very tree...

“Dryad.” Diana Ulrich’s low, commanding voice sounds, the Lupine coming down to one knee by her other side.

Alder pulls in a shuddering breath and meets the alpha’s amber stare.

“Tell us what you know of Elloren,” Diana bids, the fierce compassion in her tone a lifeline as the last screams of Alder’s Caledonian Forest rip through her. Determined to fight back, Alder holds Diana’s ferocious gaze, remembering what she overheard a Vu Trin soldier telling Vestylle and Alcippe soon after their arrival in the East—

The Lupine Diana Ulrich was a force of nature during the Battle for Voloi, ripping the heads off Mages and their broken dragons with unmatched fury. Slayed over a hundred of them. Nothing left but scattered pieces of their corpses...

Another Lupine kneels behind Diana—her mate, Rafe Ulrich—and Alder’s tracery of Wyvern blood stirs.

It’sstrong, she scents, the mating bond that exists between these two alphas, as it always is with Lupines, like a shaft of molten-amber steel running between them, love burning bright in it. The power of that love is so compelling that when Diana places her hand on Alder’s shoulder, Alder finds she’s able to swallow back the edge of her wild grief and regain her voice.

“The Great Source Tree, III,” she falteringly tells them, “it’s broken EllorenGardner Grey’s Shadow fasting.” Her eyes slide to the amber gaze of another towering Lupine, Andras Volya, his Amaz runic facial tattoos incongruous on a male face but comforting in their familiarity, being so similar to Alder’s own. “Elloren is now both Dryad Witch and Forest Guardian,” she tells them.

Elloren’s allies trade looks of surprise.

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