Page 46 of Prince of Flowers
“Hmm,” he said. “Yes. Very interesting.”
I folded my arms and smirked. “Do you even know what you’re looking for?”
“No,” he said, squinting at the horizon. “But that won’t stop me from trying.”
I cocked my head at him, studying his features. It was hard not to find Sylvain’s little quirks attractive, how his lip turned up when he had his heart set on something, how the sun made the gold of his eyes even richer when it struck them just the right way.
He stamped his foot in frustration. “Fuck it. What are we even looking for, anyway? A large tree among many smaller trees? Ridiculous. We’ve been walking around for days.”
“Hours,” I corrected. “Don’t exaggerate.”
“Well, it feels like days.” He stamped his foot again. “If only we could fly somehow. What did I tell you about dragons? Go and summon one. Go on, then.”
I rolled my eyes, then considered. “You know, technically, it’s not really flying, but my doves can — ”
The ground rumbled underfoot. A passing tremor, or was it building up to an earthquake? I grasped Sylvain’s shoulders, trying to steady myself, but he was losing his footing, too.
“I wasn’t expecting this,” I shouted. “But an earthquake in the Oriel of Earth? I guess that checks out.”
Sylvain cast his finger out toward the surrounding forests. “Those other trees aren’t moving. It’s just this mound.”
My stomach swooped. Oh, shit. We found our guardian.
I scrambled for my grimoire, finding the recitation for the doves. To my surprise I’d somehow memorized part of the first half already. That was after years of only loosely summoning eidolons. Maybe this was how proper summoners did things. You know, through practice and repetition? Dr. Euclidea Fang lesson three hundred and fifteen: Lochlann Wilde, you are an incorrigible idiot.
With one hand I grabbed Sylvain’s waist, gestured with the other, the grimoire very politely levitating itself so I could cast the summoning.
“Is this really the time to grope me? We should run, except I know we’ll tumble if we — “
“Hang on tight, Sylvain.”
I finished the spell. Feathers filled the air as the doves burst onto the scene, billowing forward like a white cloud. My heart raced as we leapt toward them. With Sylvain in my grasp, my cloak rippling behind me, I felt like a superhero. His panicked scream turned into a whoop of delight, the two of us borne gently down to safety by a flurry of shimmering white wings.
“Snacks later, boys,” I told the doves, but they were already vanishing. They had their priorities. Escaping the creature awakening inside the mound was much more important than breadcrumbs.
“Locke,” he shouted, pumped up. “That was amazing.”
“That’s sweet, but we’ve got another problem right now.”
Clumps of dirt and grass fell away as the guardian righted itself, stretching up and up until all the earth had been dislodged from its body. It stood in the vague shape of a man, not carved out of wood, but grown that way, gnarled in places, stout and powerful in others.
Lush clusters of leaves grew out of its crown — the natural spot for them on a tree, but on the guardian’s humanoid frame they resembled a head of hair, a bushy beard. A pair of eyes stared out of the whorls and knots that made up its face, a lustrous amber. And in the center of its forehead was the deep green gemstone we came for.
“The Blood of the Earth,” I muttered, staring up at the creature in awe.
Oh, and did I mention that this thing was twenty feet tall?
“Hah! I’ll end this quickly.”
I almost smacked myself in the forehead. Sylvain curled his fingers. A smattering of leaves issued from the top of the guardian’s head, nowhere near enough to cause any real damage. It opened its mouth and roared.
“You plucked some hairs from a giant,“ I said. “Are you happy now?”
“It was worth a — look out!”
A massive clump of earth came shooting toward us. Sylvain tackled me to the ground. The wind wheezed out of me as we fell together in a grubby heap. The hunk of debris missed us, swooshing overhead before smashing into some nearby trees. Crap. The guardian was using the dirt it shook off its body as missiles. Very resourceful.
“Thank you,” I said, straining to catch my breath and get back on my feet. And that was when I spotted the boulder. “Sylvain, look out!”
