Page 64 of The Iron Raven

“Insects.”

The branches overhead rattled, shaking the canopy and sending a shower of leaves hissing to the ground. In the center of the trunk, the gnarled bark shifted, moving around like wax, forming the vague impression of a face. A pair of eyes emerged, shiny and black, and a slash formed in the trunk as words spilled forth, slow and rusty, as if they had not been spoken in centuries.

“Parasites,” the voice whispered, though it still caused the ground to shake and the branches above us to tremble. “Weevils and termites, digging into my flesh, burrowing through my blood. Carrying your diseases, leaving nothing behind. What do you want? Haven’t you already taken enough?”

“Mother Tree.” Meghan stepped forward. “My friends and I have taken nothing, from you or this forest. We wish only to pass through in peace. Likewise, the Thorn Sisters have great respect for you and the woods in which they hunt. Why do you send your children to attack them? Have they offended you in some way?”

“Offended me?” The Mother Tree didn’t sound amused. She sounded disgusted—as disgusted as an ancient tree could sound, anyway. “Their entire existence is an offense to the forest,” she rasped. “They, and all the other flesh creatures who take and take and take and give nothing back. They have become as greedy and destructive as the humans in the mortal realm, who raze the trees and destroy the earth with no thought or regret, unable to hear how the land screams out in pain.”

“Surely that isn’t true, Mother Tree,” Meghan reasoned. “At least, not here. I’ve seen no signs of destruction. No swaths of cleared forest or chopped trees. Perhaps your anger at mankind is what’s driving this, but the fey who live in the Briars are not deserving of your wrath.”

“You think not, flesh queen?” Oh, this wasn’t going well. The Mother Tree’s voice had turned icy, which caused Ash to step closer to Meghan, every muscle in his body coiled to react. “How many trees have they felled to build their homes?” the Mother Tree went on. “How many saplings have they uprooted to craft their bows, spears, and weapons of death? How many branches have they ripped asunder and burned in their firepits?”

“That is just basic survival,” Ash broke in. “The fey of this world have always depended on the forest for their homes and tools. This is nothing new, Mother Tree.”

“The wolves do not uproot my trees to hunt,” was the uncompromising reply. “The deer do not build fires to keep themselves warm. The bears do not need bows to fell their prey. Only the fleshy two-legs must continuously destroy to survive. Like a colony of termites, eating, eating, eating, until the tree they depend on for their home is consumed and chewed to nothing. Then they simply move on and find another tree to kill.” Branches rattled, and all around us, the roots of the tree coiled beneath the ground like giant worms. “You...you are an infestation, all of you. Why should we not take offense to this?”

Meghan’s voice was hard, as if she realized talking to this fanatical, overgrown shrub was getting her nowhere. “Is that why you sent the treants to kill the fey who live here?”

“I did not send my children to do anything,” the Mother Tree said. “I do not order or give commands. The younglings simply realized the stain and took it upon themselves to remove it from the forest. They act without my guidance, but their actions do not displease me.”

“Mother Tree.” Ash stepped forward. “The fey here depend on the forest for their survival. If you continue to allow your children to kill, there will be a war. And then more trees will die.”

“The earth is tainted,” the Mother Tree went on. “You do not understand. I feel it, in the ground under your feet. I stretch my roots out, and...”

Suddenly, she shuddered, and the earth shuddered with her. Leaves spiraled to the ground, and flocks of birds took to the air, as the ground literally rumbled and shook, causing us all to brace ourselves. The face in the tree contorted, warping into an expression of rage and agony, before it went slack.

“Um, okay,” I said as the tremors finally stopped. “That was weird. Did the old shrub just throw a temper tantrum and go home? What the hell is going on here?”

The Mother Tree still stood there with her eyes shut, unmoving. We all shared a glance, and Meghan stepped forward when the trunk stirred, shedding leaves, and the eyes opened.

Oh crap.A fist made of ice dropped into the pit of my stomach and stayed there, freezing me in place. I stared at the Mother Tree, or rather, at the face in the trunk of the Mother Tree. Because the gaze pinning me in place was not the angry, unreasonable forest guardian we had been speaking with until now.

It washim. Or it. Whatever it was. The presence I’d felt before, staring at me from the eyes of the monster in Phaed, trying to figure me out. Curious and intrigued, but somehow...sleepy, as if it wasn’t quite awake yet. I felt it again, that same cold curiosity, mingled with the edge of frustration. Frustration that it wasn’t quite conscious, as if its thoughts weren’t entirely clear yet.

It lasted only a moment. One split-second glance. Then, the Mother Tree blinked, and the other presence was gone.

I shivered, all the way down to my toes. Around me, I could see the others were feeling the same; grim and shaken by what they’d seen, even if they couldn’t quite understand it.

“What was that?” Coaleater muttered behind me.

The Mother Tree shuddered again. Opening her eyes, her face twisted, warping even further into a mask of horror and rage. I felt a ripple go through the earth at my feet, as if the roots of the great tree were writhing around, trying to escape a predator.

“Aaaaauuugh,” the ancient tree groaned. “Too deep. Too deep, I can feel it. Roots cold, burning. Something...beneath the earth. Can’t pull back.”

Meghan looked at the ground, her expression pale with understanding. “Something beneath,” she whispered. Stretching a hand over the earth, she closed her eyes, and glamour began swirling around her. I felt the pulse of Summer magic, felt it following the roots of the great tree down into the darkness. I saw her frown, a furrow creasing her brow, as she sent the magic deeper, deeper...

Suddenly she gasped, and her eyes flew open as she recoiled, nearly falling backward. Ash lunged forward and caught her, holding her steady as she regained her balance. Above us, the Mother Tree wailed, an unearthly cry of rage and despair, sending ripples through the entire forest.

Heart pounding, I looked at Meghan, who clutched Ash tightly, her face white. She was shaking, breathing hard, as if we had just fled the Briars with that pissed-off dragon behind us.

“Meghan.” Ash’s voice was low, concerned. He didn’t move, just continued to hold her, but his entire posture was tight. “What happened?”

“There is something down there,” Meghan whispered. “I don’t know what it is, but I could sense its presence. I’ve never felt anything so...”

“Angry?” I supplied in a soft voice. “Hateful? Like it wants to burn down the world and every living thing in it?”

She nodded, pale and shaken, then glanced up at the Mother Tree and took a quiet breath. “Whatever it is,” she whispered in a steely voice, “I can’t let this continue. Her roots are too close.” She raised her head and drew away from Ash, standing tall on her own. “I’m going to try to pull her out.”

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