Page 8 of Cruel As A Tree

The branches of the tree behind Lillian curled towards her, reaching out as if they would snag her and hold her close. I didn't like saying those words, not when every part of me screamed that she was mine. Mine to keep. Mine to protect.

I relaxed the branches, calming them so they didn't grab her.

Courting was convincing, and she had asked to be convinced to stay, not forced to stay.

Part of convincing was her feeling that she could leave.

Even if I would never let her go.

Chapter

Five

LILLIAN

"Holy mushrooms," I gasped as I looked at the scene in front of me.

I stepped into the clearing, and the air shifted. Wetter, thicker, humming faintly with the breath of lush old growth. Purple plants glowed around the perimeter; those globe-like flowers organized in regular intervals as if they were lights along a garden fence. The broad leaves of the undergrowth around them were slick with dew, edges fuzzed with soft bristles. I took another step forward and could smell mint. I looked down to see a mint-like plant forming a woven dense green pathway leading from where I stood to the center.

At the center, a tree rose. Massive, gnarled, the color of dark ironwood streaked with moss-veined silver, its bark was furrowed deep with age. Huge flat mushrooms, reminiscent of artist conks but much bigger, spiraled along the trunk, jutting from the bark in wide pink-and-purple shelves. The lower ones were small, flat, like outstretched palms. Higher up, theythickened and widened, some broad enough to hold two people side-by-side. They formed a spiral staircase up the tree's flank.

Up high, the mushrooms were even larger, and they held rounded dome-shaped buildings with circular windows and doors. Several of the mushroom platforms were connected with bridge walkways lined with woven grass railings. From the edge of one of the lower mushrooms, a waterfall spilled clean over the side, hissing down into a catch basin of polished rock below. It fed into a clear stream that snaked across the clearing, the edge lined with smooth stones and fernlike stalks.

"I thought the mushrooms I had to grind up in the kitchen were big," I said as I craned my neck to look up at the buildings in the tree.

"I got the idea from the Aetheriani ambassador who visited," Lorthian replied. "He described their palace and the thought took shape."

"Ambassador?" I asked. "I thought you were all hidden."

"I don't hide from allies of Chaos," Lorthian said.

Unease rolled in my stomach as I glanced over at him. I wondered if I should say it at all. Growing up, it always seemed like any discussion of one team versus another would lead to angry arguments, whether that team was sports, politics, or ideas. The people around me always seemed to argue to win, not to argue to try to convince the other person to shift their views.

"Isn't Chaos evil?" I asked. "At the Order Academy, all they teach is that all the wrongs in the world were caused by the Chaos God. He made monsters and stuff."

"Did you run from your school because it was good?" Lorthian asked.

I shook my head. "No."

I ran from the school because it was a trap; they made it clear that my life was disposable, and when I tried to find help to get away from a guy who stalked me after I broke up with him, therewas no help to be found. Every part of my experience there that had to do with keeping Order was anything but goodness.

Show me my nest,Veveron demanded.

She shifted on my shoulder, as if she was uncomfortable.

"Veveron wants to see where she can nest," I said.

Lorthian lifted an arm and pointed at one of the rounded buildings that was surrounded by the others. "Her domain is close to the center."

Veveron lifted her head. Protected. Good. Go now.

She dug the tips of her claws into my shoulder.

I headed down the path to the tree. When I stepped onto the first mushroom step, my hand against the firm trunk of the tree, there was no give under my foot. I stepped up, step after step. I walked past the first level and up to the second where the bulk of the buildings were. Making my way along the woven grass bridge that connected the buildings, I got to the one in the center. When I put my hand on the door, it was spongy and soft, and I realized there was a second smaller door at the base of it.

Inside the room was a greenhouse.

Half of the ceiling was clear, letting in light from above as the other half provided shade. There was a stream running through the plants that grew inside the building, and a lifted patch of sand directly in the sunlight, steaming with heat. The room was fragrant with the smell of fruit and herbs.

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