Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
I hold in a terrified scream as I’m swept along like I’m caught in a rip current. As the dizzying world settles around me, I attempt to school my face into a serene expression. A group of strangers is staring. I so meant to do that… Did I Step?
I bloody teleported. Unbelievable.
I think I left my stomach back at the lake. I’m in reception and at least a dozen dryads are standing before me, the remnants of a portal fading behind them.
“Gracious host,” a lady says, stepping forward from the group. She drops into the most incredibly low curtsey. I blink a few times and my mouth flops open. What the heck? How do I react to that? I internally groan when all the dryads follow her lead. Fourteen of them, my magic helpfully supplies.
I wave my hands in the air and a “Hi” squeaks out.
My frantic waving encourages them to return to normal, and the lead lady continues what must be a readymade speech.
“We are here for sanctuary—our trees are in peril. The humans and the dwarfs demand progress, so they have been ripping out our forests and ignoring the environmental protection orders the fae council put in place. No one will help us, and we are dying.” The willowy lady leans towards me, her pale blue eyes glimmer with tears.
I swallow and have to pin my arms to my sides so I don’t fidget.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“With your permission, mistress host, we would like to bring our trees to be rooted in your pocket world. We will lend you our strength, and you will allow us to live without fear so all branches can flourish, and leaves can nurture the ground.”
Ah, that sounds completely ceremonial, and I have no idea what to say. My eyes flick about nervously like I’m a cartoon villain. I need Larry. “Well, okay.” Nice one, Tuesday. Real eloquent. I give myself a sarcastic mental thumbs up.
The surrounding dryads all seem to breathe a sigh of relief at my words.
Encouraged, I try again, hoping for the best. “You are all more than welcome.” Better.
This is all a bit of a shock. What more can I say?
The poor dryads are dying. I can’t have that on my conscience. And who doesn’t love trees?
“Thank you, mistress.” I inwardly cringe. The whole mistress thing is weird. It’s something that we can work on once they’ve settled in. The other dryads join in with their thanks as I frantically look around for Larry. Where did he go? It’s not like he needs a toilet break.
“Here is our sacrifice.”
The—what now? Sacrifice?
The dryads part and a girl is unceremoniously dragged between them.
Her dirty clothes hang off her painfully thin frame.
When the dryads let go, I see the skin on her forearms is cracking.
I look closer and see it’s not just her arms. Like the bark of a tree, her skin sloughs off from her face and neck.
I worry even a slight touch will make it crumble.
She needs urgent medical help. My heart ricochets off my ribs as they roughly push her towards me.
The momentum of the push is too much. Her left leg drags behind her, and her right leg can’t keep her weight.
She flops to the floor in a tangle of limbs at my feet.
I silently yelp, my eyes widen with horror, and I drop to my knees. Without thinking, I reach out my hand and she flinches away.
Of course, she does. She’s a sacrifice.
Her eyes roll about like a frightened horse and, with the last of her strength, she drags herself away from me. My heart flips. It cracks in my chest.
“You’ll take her remaining life force as payment for our relocation?” the dryad asks.
A strange gurgling sound leaves my throat.
My tongue is numb, frozen, and I don’t know how to respond.
“You’ll take her remaining life force as payment for our relocation?
” The leader’s voice keeps echoing in my head.
This whole situation is beyond me and my life experience.
I mash my lips together. Oh no, I’m going to puke. I dry heave into my fist.
Maybe I should try to make my face into a villainous snarl, try to convince them I’m an evil creature. The threat that they undoubtedly imagine I am. This is all too much.
Everything around me instantaneously drifts away.
Dimly I realise I’m in shock. For a few moments, I can't see or hear anything and it's like my brain shuts down and reboots.
What happens if I am sick or I give in to the floundering panic that lies in wait beneath the shock.
If these creatures are willing to sacrifice one of their own, what will they do to me if I act like prey?
Where the heck is bloody Larry when I need him?
As if answering a summons, the redheaded construct pops into existence. He takes in my wide-eyed form on the floor with the girl and casually steps over us.
“Welcome to The Sanctuary,” he says in his friendly, jolly tone.
I scowl. Can’t he see everything is going to shit?
“If you will all sign our terms and conditions, I can get you settled.” He grabs the check-in datapad.
“Are you okay to sign on behalf of your party? Excellent. If you just sign here and here. I see you brought a sacrifice. Lovely.”
Lovely?
I realise the fae creatures are politely ignoring us. It’s as if a family member and a friend isn’t rasping with pain and fear on the floor at their feet. Like a piece of rubbish, they ignore her. Acting as if I’m going to suck the remaining life out of her while they check in.
What the hell is wrong with these people?
“Wonderful. Now, are we relocating your trees?” Larry herds the dryads away and they make their way outside.
Leaving the girl to her fate.
Anger ignites and the magic in my chest bubbles with the violent emotion.
This is supposed to be a sanctuary. Sanctuary shouldn’t require sacrifice.
I need to get away from these parasites before I do something I’ll regret.
With a single thought, this time controlled, the magic twists around us and, with another gentler wave, sucks us into the ether.
We are at the top of the hill, at the edge of the forest. The lake is far below us and we are sheltered from any wind. The dryad pants next to me, on the verge of hyperventilation. Her breath wheezes through her cracked lips and rattles her chest.
The girl rolls into a ball. “Please, make it quick. Don’t let it hurt,” she whispers.
I brush away the loose forage and then sit down next to her. I hug my knees. “What’s your name?” Whoa, my throat is so damn tight. The girl’s rapid breathing pauses. I can see her confusion at what she must think is an odd question. Murderers don’t ask people their names, right?
“E-Erin.”
“Well, Erin, my name is Tuesday. I know what you’ve been told, but it isn’t true…
Well, it isn’t true of me. I will not hurt you.
In fact, I’m going to try my best to help you.
” I rock slightly and nibble on my lip. “I’m thinking that you’re struggling because of your tree?
” Erin moves, so I take that as a nod. “Okay, so I’m going to—somehow—fix you both. ”
Erin lifts her head. Hazel eyes blink at me with utter, desolate confusion. “Is this some kind of joke?”
“No.” I’ve never been more serious in my life.
“You’re not gonna kill me?”
“No, but I need your help. You see, I’ve been a host for a day, and I’ve never done this before.” Unless I count sending my magic through Daisy.
“A day? And you’re willing to try to save us—me and my tree?”
“I want to try.”
A tear dribbles down the side of her face and another follows.
Oh.
Erin buries her head in her hands and sobs.
I wiggle on the ground and my hands uselessly flutter.
I want to comfort her, but I don’t know if I can.
A minute ago, she thought I was going to suck the life out of her.
It isn’t every day that your friends and family attempt to sacrifice you to a monster.
I’m the monster.
I tuck my hands underneath my knees and rock a little as she cries.
The dryad’s pain is infectious, I want to ugly cry too.
But I hold it in. I desperately hold off my thoughts.
I can’t dissect all this now. Erin is too important; she is the priority.
So, I force myself into a blank state, a professional numbness.
When I think about this later, or if I dare to tell anyone, I will probably rage. But now, with the dryad crying, beyond the forced numbness… I feel so sad.
I hope Owen comes back soon. I need a hug.
When Erin’s sobs are but a whisper, I clear my throat. “Are you ready for me to try?”
“Yes, please,” comes the muffled reply.
“Okay, I need to urm… touch you.” I cringe. “Can I please hold your hand?”
I can’t even imagine how brave Erin must be as she takes in a shuddering breath, unfolds herself, sits up, and places a delicate hand in mine.
Even though her hand feels like I’m holding a piece of wood, and slivers of bark-like skin sprinkle into my palm, I give it a gentle and what I hope is a reassuring squeeze.
“Okay.” I take my own shuddering breath and close my eyes. I don’t have to call my magic; it’s there.
The tattoos glow bright white, painting patterns on the trees behind us as they swirl and dance on my skin. I can imagine I look a little like a disco ball.
The magic knows what I want, I guess ’cause it’s a part of me.
Like my heart, the beat pushing blood around my body.
The magic is the same. It’s a part of me.
How quickly things have changed from visceral hate of magic to comparing it to an organ.
Never in my wildest nightmares would I believe that could happen.
The silver magic flows into the dryad. Oh. Oooh, I can feel the rot. The pain of her tree, the agony from the very top of its branches down to its roots. Something heavy has crashed into it, and the tree has been ripped carelessly from the earth.
They are connected. Symbiant. And both are dying.
Through that connection, my magic enters the real world.
It crawls through the earth. With pinpoint precision, I free the crushed branches from the ground and gently unwind the roots that are buried in the mud.
I ease the tree’s pain as I call it to me. I pull it through a portal.
The portal opens behind us, and I pick the perfect spot. Where the soil is full of nutrients, sheltered from the elements, but where the light from my sun will hit the tree perfectly.
The ground gently parts, pulling the tree into its warmth. Each root is unravelled and repaired. The magic creeps in a spiral around the trunk, healing all wounds, spreading out inch by inch across the branches and encouraging new spring growth.
My forest is already full of magic and as connected as I am; I can hear the hum of the wood’s joy at having such a beautiful fae tree join its company. Erin’s tree sings back. No longer in pain. When it can do no more, my magic gently and reluctantly swirls away.
Erin groans and my concentration wanes. I blink and sweat rolls in my eyes, making them sting. I screw my eyes shut and dig deep into myself. I’m only half-finished. Now comes the scary bit: healing Erin.
I can do this. I must.
My magic gently creeps inside of her and immediately starts repairing her cells.
It heals to the point where her body can then take over.
I can almost see the red and white blood cells rush into each area.
My magic collects the toxins and the rot as it goes, repairing and syphoning.
My breath becomes laboured as Erin’s breathing stabilises, but I push on. I just need a few more minutes.
There, it’s done.
I slump to the forest floor and Erin rests against me.
“You did it. You saved us. Oh, Tuesday, thank you. Thank you so much… Oh, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I slur. The two paltry words get stuck in my throat.
It is not safe to lie here, warns my inner voice.
I force myself to roll onto my side and I blink up at Erin.
I don’t have to force my smile. “Hey, you look great.” My eyes swivel to her tree.
“You both look great.” Erin’s short brown hair is glossy, and her skin has returned to a soft, healthy shade.
My head is a little floaty, like I have low blood pressure as I sit up.
I can’t look at Erin for this next bit. I trace the soil with my finger.
“The other dryads, urm, they’re on the other side of the forest.” I can feel them.
“I didn’t know if you wanted to be closer.
If you can give me a few days, I can mov—”
“No,” Erin quickly interrupts. “If it’s okay, I’d like to stay here. This spot is beautiful. If it’s okay with you, I don’t want to see them. Not for a while. Not ever, if I can help it.” A fat tear runs down the side of her nose.
“Take all the time you need. Do you need somewhere to stay? I’m tapped out, but you can stay at the hotel overnight. I could build you a cabin? You don’t have to see them.”
“I will stay with my tree. Do you mind?” Her hazel eyes shine with unshed tears. “I’d like to sleep now.”
“Oh, of course,” I squeak out. I do an undignified roll onto my knees and somehow, with pure will alone, I scramble to my feet.
“Thank you. Thank you so much, Tuesday. You saved my life. I can’t quite believe it.” With each word, Erin steps back towards her tree. When they touch, her human form fades, and she becomes part of the trunk.
“You are welcome,” I rasp.