Page 410 of Kingdoms of Night

“Guards,” Father said as the last of the failed ward magic fizzled, “arrange a sentry at each of the shorelines. Make certain to report any ships passing. Everyone else, be vigilant. In this great time we cannot be vulnerable. Remember the prophecy. We can only hope it speaks of a time in the far future or to a past that we do not know.”

A fire ends the dryad’s reign. Watch for the fire, oh Thorned One.

The problem with the prophecy was that they had lost the full meaning of the old words. It was technically the same language, but the sounds and symbols had changed here and there, making the true meaning impossible to discern. And yes, he was the Thorned One. Not even he could deny that at this point. But there had been other Thorned Ones in the past. Would there be more like him in the future? There was no way to know or to figure out what exactly they meant byfire.

As the sun grew hot, the afternoon wearing on, Viridi shook himself awake inside the tree where he had been feeding. He blinked, feeling the soft pressure of the tree around him like a heavy cloak, the energy sifting into his flesh in a series of warm sparks. His body didn’t want to leave yet, but he had to begin his dark chore before the others woke at dusk.

Steeling himself, he lurched forward, mentally breaking from the tree’s magical embrace. His body pushed through the tree’s layers like a swimmer in the sea, until the daylight washed over him. Day was always too harsh, too bright. Like all dryad elves, he strongly preferred the night, the starlight, the moon. Even as the Thorned One, he hadn’t escaped that proclivity.

Taking a deep breath and filling his lungs with salty, woodsy air, he walked toward the village, where everyone else in his tribe would be resting inside their home trees.

The warrior guard trees loomed in their circle around the three thrones, his father’s and the others. He shut his eyes and pushed the emotions he had for her into a dark corner of his mind.

Opening them again, he set his mind to his task—to threaten his tribe and spread word that all dryad elves should flee this island and seek a home elsewhere. It wouldn’t be easy. They could acclimate to new home trees in other locations. He knew that much from the old tales and the scrolls they had in the great library, but it would be incredibly taxing, and some might die before they managed it. But he knew what the trees wanted from him, from the Thorned One.

Complete dominance.

The jeweltrees didn’t care about the dryad elves. They did as they had to, as the Source’s magic commanded, for now, but once they took hold of his mind in full, they would revolt through his hands and his power. Why he had been created to do this, he didn’t know. But the truth of it rang through his soul as consistently as the tides. Perhaps it was to help the dryad elves evolve. Other races had done so over the eons. The sea folk and the human descendants of the goddess Vahly had become humans, some of them water mages. The high elves of long ago had combined with the goddess’s descendants and branched into mountain elves, fae, and his own kind. Maybe dryad elves were to become something greater. It wasn’t a terrible thought. They were too sheltered and one-minded here in this isolated island kingdom. And Viridi knew he wasn’t the only one who often longed to leave these shores and see new places, meet new people.

His gaze went to Felix’s tree. The maple stood at the edge of the village beyond the cluster of vine-cloaked wooden night homes that they’d each crafted with their dryad magic, asking the trees for a roof, walls, bathing pools, and places to dine or cook with dryad fire.

Felix knew this was coming and he trusted Viridi that this was necessary.

Viridi prayed to the Source that he wasn’t mistaken, then he shut his eyes and summoned the dark power simmering deep inside his soul.

CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE

ISA

Isa gripped the boat’s side, digging her nails into the weather-softened wood, as Rhianne ordered the skiffs lowered. The anchor was in place and Werian called for all hands on deck.

So far, the magical barrier wasn’t a problem. The island was visible—three round-topped mountains laced with dark forests and bordered in sparkling sand. Had Viridi and his people not mended the magic?

Down the shore line, the Brunes’ ship docked near a spit of rocky land and the dragon flew circles overhead. The Brunes’ men climbed down the rope ladders and readied to leap onto land. Isa tensed.

Would the barrier come alive now and set them on fire? Turn them to ash?

The sailors around her on Werian and Rhianne’s ship paused to watch alongside Isa, Eamon’s small eyes squinting against the sun and Werian cocking his horned head.

The Brunes’ men jumped to the sandy rocks.

And stood, brushing themselves off.

“That’s a disappointment,” Werian said.

Isa sighed. They were going to have to fight now. No more easy outs. “I wish they’d been grilled like Khem kabobs.”

Rhianne snorted a laugh and unsheathed her wand. “Let’s see if I can make your wish come true.”

“Are you in range?”

“Maybe.” She thrust her wand into the air and whispered a few words. Bright magic shot from the wand’s tip and bowed over the water.

Dame’s whistle cut through the sound of the cresting waves and the shouts of the sailors. The dragon dove at the ship, then cut upward at the last moment. She, the dragon, had to be so frightened of Dame to obey in that manner. Dragons weren’t easily cowed if everything she’d heard and read was true.

I wish I could help you, dragon,she thought.

It wasn’t the creature’s fault she was fighting on the Brunes’ side.

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