Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Alice sat stiffly in the cradle of Elder Oak’s gently swaying limbs, struggling to make sense of everything.
She blinked again, as if by doing so she could somehow reset the world and wake up in the treehouse back home on Valdier with Bálint and the others scheming about what they were going to do next.
“This… isn’t real. Trees can’t talk,” she whispered.
Elder Oak rumbled with amusement. “Not all trees, but a good many of us can—if you know how to listen.”
Alice turned her head toward the voice, wide-eyed. “You’re alive.”
“I certainly hope so,” the tree said, his voice like wind in old leaves, rich and amused. “It would be quite inconvenient to be otherwise.”
“No—I mean, of course you’re alive, but… I meant… alive-alive. Talking. Thinking. Walking.”
“Ah,” Elder Oak chuckled, the sound like rustling branches after rain. “So your trees don’t do any of that?”
“Not where I’m from,” she murmured. “I’m… from a world far, far away.”
A hiss of breath came from a fork near the tree’s head. Alice scrambled backwards—startled when a tall, brown-haired boy suddenly appeared and glared at her. She watched in muted shock when he crossed his arms.
His golden-brown eyes were narrowed with suspicion, his jaw tense. “You’re an alien,” he said flatly. “You came to harm our world.”
Alice blinked, surprised by the accusation. “What?! No! Of course not!” Then, just as quickly, her eyes narrowed. “How long have you been watching me?”
His expression didn’t change. “Since you fell from the sky. I saw the funnel of mist drop you into the forest.”
Alice flushed. “So you just stood there, spying on me? You didn’t bother to help me? Even when I called out?”
“Yes,” he replied unapologetically.
Alice opened her mouth to retort, then closed it again. “Did you… Did you see anyone else come through with me?” Her voice faltered, hope flickering like a fragile candle.
Elder Oak stirred, his branches creaking. “There were others?”
Alice nodded quickly. “We were together when the portal splintered. We were all thrown in different directions.”
Before the boy could answer, a low, ominous howl echoed through the forest, raising the hair on the back of Alice’s neck.
The boy stiffened. “Night howlers,” he murmured. “It’s going to rain soon, too. We’ll need shelter, Elder.”
Elder Oak nodded gravely. “Agreed. Alice, my name is Elder Oak. And this suspicious young man glaring at you is Geoff.”
Geoff gave her a curt nod. “And you?”
“Alice. Alice Ha’darra,” she replied, then reached out as he turned. “Wait—did you see anyone else? At all?”
Geoff hesitated, the fire in his eyes softening at the tremble in her voice. He shook his head.
“No. Just you.”
Disappointment washed through her. She dropped her arm and hugged herself tightly.
Geoff jumped onto the branches holding her and motioned to Elder Oak.
The magnificent tree’s bark groaned and shifted, and before Alice could ask what was happening, the center of the trunk began to open like a blooming flower. Geoff barely glanced at her before he jumped, disappearing into the dark cavity.
“What the—” she hissed, but before she could finish, Elder Oak’s arms dipped—and she slid down a smooth channel into the tree’s interior.
As she slipped into the tree’s heart, a faint hum vibrated through the interior. It reminded her of slipping beneath a warm, weighted blanket on a frigid night. Elder Oak’s voice echoed in her mind, gentle and grounding:
“You are not alone, little one. Geoff will care for you, and you are protected.”
She clutched those words to her chest like a talisman before a soft, startled cry slipped from her lips as she landed—in a pair of muscular arms.
A fiery blush swept over Alice’s cheeks when Geoff caught her with surprising ease, his hands firm at her waist. She gasped, eyes wide, the warmth of his touch tingling like a shock through her skin.
He didn’t let go right away. His fingers brushed the ends of her braid. Then, clearing his throat, he gently set her down. “We’ll be safe here for the night.”
Alice nodded, breathless.
The inside of the tree was surprisingly spacious. The walls shimmered with golden-green veins that pulsed gently, like heartbeats. She could see the swirl of energy in them—vivid, alive, and untouchable.
She tried to reach for it.
She closed her eyes, focused, visualized it wrapping around her fingers, shaping into something small and safe. Something familiar. Like her dad had shown her.
Nothing happened.
The threads slipped through her again—slippery, foreign, distant.
“I can’t grasp it,” she whispered.
Geoff turned, watching her from the other side of the space.
Tears stung her eyes. “It’s like… like I’m not me anymore. I can see the energy, but I can’t touch it. It’s-it’s like a mist. I don’t understand this.”
Without a word, Geoff crossed to her. He removed his small satchel, dropped it to the side, and wrapped his arms around her in a consoling hug.
Alice froze for a beat, surprised by the sudden warmth of another person—this person.
Her instinct was to pull away. He… wasn’t Bálint.
But the ache in her chest cracked something open.
She let go of the tight hold on her fear—and turned into Geoff, burying her face in his shoulder like a lifeline she hadn’t realized she needed.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she muttered. “It feels wrong here. I’ve never felt like this before. I feel… empty… broken.”
Geoff held her tighter. “You’re not broken.”
She sniffed. “But I can’t do anything.”
“Magic isn’t about doing,” he murmured. “It’s about listening.”
She pulled back slightly. “We don’t use magic. We harness the energy around us and control it.”
Geoff tilted his head. “What’s the difference?”
“We—I manipulate the surrounding energy. Energy is a property of matter and fields. It can do work or cause change. I can harness the surrounding energy and transform it from one form to another. Magic is—supernatural stuff. It isn’t real.
How can a bunch of words cause things to change?
I don’t need spells or words back home. There, I can see the threads of energy and call them to me. ”
Geoff released her and walked over to his satchel.
“There is power in words. Spells and magic are as real as I am. As Elder and the ancient trees. As this isle. You say you can see the threads of energy on your world. I can see them here. Maybe it’s not that the energy is wrong.
It’s just different.” He pulled out two enchanted fire sticks, a woven blanket, and some round, woody nuts.
“Why don’t you sit? It’s getting chilly, and the rain has started. I’ll make us some dinner,” he said, spreading the blanket.
Alice shivered when she heard the rumble of thunder. The air inside the tree was damp, and there was a chill in the air. Geoff must have noticed her shivering because he shrugged out of the woolen coat he was wearing and held it out with one hand.
“That’s okay. You keep it. I don’t want you to get cold,” she said, brushing her sleeve across her damp eyes.
He grinned and held up the fire sticks. “I’ll have a fire in a moment. It won’t take long to warm up.”
Alice grudgingly took his coat and pulled it around her shoulders. It smelled faintly of cedar and smoke. She sat on the blanket as Geoff struck the sticks together, murmuring a spell.
A glow pulsed between them, warm and golden.
He set the nuts on the glowing sticks. They hissed and cracked. Her eyes widened as she noticed the wispy strands of energy clinging to the glowing sticks.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, wishing she could touch it.
He laughed. “It comes in handy. Let’s try another. Watch closely as I say the words.”
As he cast a simple charm, Alice listened as he spoke the words. There was something… magical in the way the energy responded and clung to the words.
The energy here wasn’t raw and crisp. It was soft, almost feathery. It was like looking at the bold, vivid colors of summer compared to the soft pastels of spring. The energy didn’t connect like puzzle pieces—but wove together like a beautiful painting.
Tiny, vibrant threads of color shimmered around his hands—soft gold, varying shades of red, green, yellow, and blue—wrapping and knotting into shapes like the strands of a tapestry.
Her eyes widened. “I see it.”
Geoff smiled. “Good. That’s magic.”
She reached out instinctively, her fingers tingling with the urge to touch it. But the moment her mind tried to grasp the threads—to shape them—they vanished like dew in sunlight.
“I can see it,” she whispered, her voice both awed and aching. “But it slips away the second I try to do anything with it. I still… I still can’t touch it.”
Geoff’s brow furrowed, but he gave her a reassuring smile. “You’re not meant to control it. Just… let it exist. Let it be with you… like the coat you are wearing.”
“I’ll try,” she breathed. “It’s softer, colorful, like a field of wildflowers. It’s also like it’s… alive.”
Her fingers twitched with the desire to try again. Not to control it, but to touch the pulsing strands. To wrap it around her like the coat.
In some ways, the energy reminded her of the threads of the portal that Phoenix had created. Those strands had been different, alive like the energy here. That was why she couldn’t control them.
She needed time to understand the differences, but she was still afraid.
What if I can’t touch it here? What if I’ve lost the ability to control it?
“Everything will be alright. I’ll teach you.”
Alice swallowed and nodded. Geoff watched her with quiet curiosity as the threads flickered between his fingers.
“What if I can’t—”
He gently squeezed her hand. “The magic here is your ‘energy’. Just… tuned differently.”
Geoff’s fingers moved through the threads of magic like an artist guiding brushstrokes. Alice nodded slowly, her breath trembling.