Page 63 of The Iron Raven

An ear-piercing wail rang out. The treant staggered, curling its arms around itself, and swayed in place for a half second. Quickly, I swooped to a branch, changing into my normal self as Nyx vaulted off the treant into the boughs of a tree and Ash scrambled out of the way.

“Timber!” I called as the monstrous tree crashed face-first to the ground with a rumble that shook the forest floor.

We waited until the dust settled and the forest was still again before dropping to the ground and warily approaching the fallen giant. The treant’s face was turned toward us, but the light had gone from its eyes, the magic that had sustained its life missing. It looked like a huge, vaguely man-shaped pile of moss and branches, rotting in the dirt.

A somberness descended as Meghan and Ash joined us in staring at the dead treant. This wasn’t like slaying a dragon or some vicious monster that had tried to swallow you whole. The treants were near immortal, or they might as well be with how long they lived. Regardless of age, they had always been revered as the wise, peaceful guardians of the forest. Killing one felt like an affront to Faery itself.

The Iron Queen let out a long sigh, a pained look crossing her face as she gazed at the once living tree. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I wish we could have spoken, but I had no choice.” Her mouth thinned before she glanced around at the rest of us. “Is everyone all right? Any injuries?”

“Only my pride,” Coaleater muttered, shaking leaves from his mane as he stomped up, swishing his tail in an irritated fashion. Twigs and branches jutted from the chinks in his metal hide, and he had a few dents that weren’t there before, but seemed fine otherwise. With a snort that singed a stubborn leaf to ashes, he gazed up at the fallen treant and pinned his ears. “My apologies for not being able to aid you in battle. A pity the creature is dead, but it should have known better than to attack a queen of Faery.”

“Something was wrong with it,” Nyx said quietly. “When I stabbed it, the heart felt...tainted.” She shot a glance at me. “Not unlike those Forgotten we battled in Phaed.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “You don’t think the big ugly himself ishere, do you?”

“If it is,” Meghan said, “it would save us the time of finding it. Though if it’s powerful enough to corrupt a treant in such a short time, it’s even more dangerous than we thought.”

“Worse than that, I think,” Ash broke in, sounding grim. He nodded to the motionless treant. “Did you hear what it said?The Mother wishes it.” He shook his head. “If that is true, then things are more serious than we know.”

“I am unfamiliar with this ‘Mother,’” Coaleater announced, tossing his mane. “I was not aware trees had such things.”

“It’s referring to the Mother Tree,” Nyx replied gravely. “The oldest tree in the forest. The Mother Tree is responsible for the birth of all sentient plant fey—dryads, treants, even a few of the piskie tribes. The treants are connected to her, as are most of the trees in the area. If the Mother Tree perishes, the forest will wither, the treants will all die, and the land will turn barren and lifeless. It would be a death sentence to the Briars, or at least, this part of it, for miles around.”

“Oh,” Coaleater said in a much more subdued voice. “That is...very troubling.”

“Very much so.” Meghan rubbed a hand across her eyes. “I think we need to find the Mother Tree,” she announced, earning a nod from both Ash and Nyx. “If she is in danger, then the whole forest is at risk. And if the Mother Tree is the one inciting the treants to attack...” She trailed off, as if she couldn’t bear to think about the repercussions. “Grimalkin, can you take us to the grove of the Mother Tree?”

“I can, Iron Queen.” The cat appeared on a fallen branch, like he had been there the whole conversation. “It is not far, though I would advise caution while traveling through the territory of the walking trees. There are likely more treants surrounding the grove of the Mother, and fighting a pair of them, or more, would be most inadvisable. I realize it is difficult for certain members of the party to restrain themselves...” He paused and looked directly at me. “But I would suggest keeping the noise level to a minimum. Do give it your best attempt at least, hmm?”

17

GROVE OF THE MOTHER TREE

We didn’t run into any more hostile trees, though not for lack of them trying. If you think a giant, murderous tree stomping around is easy enough to avoid, you’d be wrong. Turns out, treants are very good at looking like...well, like trees. Normal, nonhostile trees that will not come to life and try to squish you for passing in front of them. Fortunately for us, both Furball and Nyx were experts at spotting which trees were trees and which trees were looking to step on our heads. Following the two masters of stealth, we managed to sneak around the half-dozen or so treants on our way to the grove without being spotted by any of them. Even Coaleater.

Finally, the briars and trees opened up, and we stood at the edge of a small clearing. I saysmall, but only because there wasn’t a lot of space left, due to the biggest tree you’d ever seen in your life sitting smack in the center. I didn’t even know what kind of tree it was, just that it was huge, dwarfing even the biggest treant. It would probably take a hundred or so people to stretch their arms around the gnarled trunk, and its branches soared up until they disappeared into the canopy overhead, spreading out like a leafy ceiling. Moss, mushrooms, creeper vines and toadstools grew from the trunk and around the massive roots, and a continuous rain of leaves drifted from the branches above, spiraling to the ground like feathers.

“I take it this is the Mother Tree,” Coaleater remarked, craning his neck up to stare at it. Pinning his ears, he snorted and tossed his head. “Let’s hope it isn’t hostile, because it would take a very long time to chop down.”

“You cannot chop down the Mother Tree,” Nyx said, sounding faintly horrified. “The forest would die, as would all the treants and dryads attached to her. This tree has been here longer than any of us.”

Coaleater blew a puff of smoke into the air. “Then perhaps we should ask the Mother Tree why she has been sending her children to kill everyone else.”

Warily, we stepped into the clearing. There were no explosions, no twiggy hands surging out of the earth to grab at us, so we started walking. Toward the huge tree in the center of the grove.

“Puck.” Beside me, Nyx shuddered, causing all my alarm bells to go off. “Can you feel it?” she whispered.

I gave a slight frown. “What are you—?”

And then I felt it.

A taint on the air, in the earth and trees and rocks surrounding us. The same malevolent, roiling glamour we’d felt in Phaed. Disgust and loathing, and a deep, pulsing rage toward the insignificant fleshy creatures who defiled the forest and used her children for their own gain. The flesh creatures did nothing but exploit and waste and destroy, and it was the forest that suffered the most. Perhaps it was time that the trees rose up to do a little damage of their own.

Oh boy. This was going to be interesting.

“Mother Tree,” Meghan called, taking a few steps toward the massive trunk. A root as thick as she was curled back as she approached, like a snake getting ready to strike, but the Iron Queen didn’t flinch. Ash, however, slid his body between it and Meghan, one hand on the hilt of his sword.

“I am Meghan Chase, Queen of the Iron Realm,” Meghan went on, facing the giant trunk. “I bring no trouble, Mother Tree, to you or your children. I wish only to talk. Will you speak with us?”

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