Chapter 30 #2
The sacred grove continues its inexorable expansion. Hungry trees advance on the screaming villagers. Even with our combined abilities, we’re barely containing one disaster while others multiply around us.
I grab Sterling’s arm and pull him up Agnar’s hill for a better view.
My stomach plummets. From here, the scope of the chaos becomes clear.
In the distance, three more sacred sites glow with aberrant light across the kingdom. The Shrine of Dawn to the east, the Temple of Mercy to the south, and what looks like the ancient burial mounds to the north.
Beyond them, plumes of dust mark the villages fighting over shifting borders. On the horizon, storm clouds gather at an anomalous speed, swirling in patterns that appear intentional rather than random.
Sterling stands beside me, his breathing ragged. “We can’t be everywhere.”
“We have to do something.” But we both know it’s a lost cause. Whatever is happening is too big, too widespread for us to contain. My chest tightens. My people are suffering, and I can’t protect them.
Three sharp blasts of a blaring horn cut through the chaos.
Sterling straightens, recognizing the signal before I do. “Reinforcements.”
Royal guards descend from the skies on the backs of alicorns, their armor glinting in the strange light.
Behind them comes Rafe, his guild master insignia visible even from a distance, leading a contingent whose practical clothing marks them as craftspeople rather than soldiers. “I’ll help where I can with air but thought earth users would be useful here, so I gathered the ones I know.”
Bastian follows, descending on Ryu.
The mighty dragon’s blue scales glimmer as he lands. Ryu’s head swerves toward the moving trees, and he bugles a challenge.
The trees nearest to us still.
“I got your message. Take these!” Bastian drops down two leather buckets before reaching for the straps carrying even more.
“Redthorne berries.” He jumps from Ryu, cupping his wings to pad his fall.
“From the royal reserves. Blend the crushed berries with water and pour the alloy on the roots of the trees.”
My brother’s a freaking genius.
Redthorne, with its spiny branches and crimson blossoms, is a plant of protection.
Known for its fibrous wood, the leaves are associated with overcoming obstacles and warding off evil.
Farmers sometimes plant it at the edge of fields to keep the soil stable, and the berries are used in religious rites to guard against malevolent forces.
The guards fan out at Bastian’s direction, dumping the mixture where the roots meet soil.
The effect is immediate.
Trees stop moving, held in place with frozen sap and hard-packed earth. The sickly glow dims. Beneath us, the ground’s rippling settles.
Rafe touches down, his tall frame vibrating with barely contained energy. He tucks his dark brown wings against his back. “I have news.”
Sterling’s face glowers. “I will shoot you with a fucking arrow.”
I fling out my palm. “No. More. News.” Every muscle in my body aches with exhaustion.
Rafe’s expression remains grim, but there’s something else. A hint of…vengeance? “You’re going to want to hear this. It’s not completely bad.”
He gestures, and two Tirenese soldiers drag forward a pair of figures in dark cloaks. Their hands are bound, and when they glance up, I note the star-marks crawling up their wrists that disappear.
Devoted.
“My informants spotted them chanting at the edge of the grove right before the trees started moving. Then kept an eye on them until we could arrive and arrest them.” Satisfaction radiates from Rafe. “Seems someone might know exactly what’s happening to our sacred sites.”
For the first time since the chaos began, a tiny spark of hope ignites within me.
Not much. Just enough to fan the embers of determination still burning in my chest. One enemy we can see is better than a thousand we can’t. And we have two of them.
Rafe shoves the two Devoted forward, allowing their robes to drag through the mud.
Even with blood trickling from the man’s split lip, my skin crawls when they smile. Like they know something we don’t. Their sparkling constellation marks serve as a subtle reminder of their devotion to Zeru.
My teeth clench. I’d like nothing more than to sear those marks right off their skin.
All around us, royal guards form a protective perimeter, their faces somber beneath their helmets.
Farther down the slope, Agnar directs a group of earth elementals who continue to stabilize the area, their hands pressed to the ground as they channel magic into the soil.
The earth still trembles occasionally beneath my feet, aftershocks from whatever the Devoted have done.
Sterling towers over the male prisoner, his presence commanding and cold. I recognize the stance well. Legs slightly apart, shoulders squared, chin lifted just enough to stare down his nose. He’s assessing the situation.
And looking as intimidating as hells.
I take my place beside him, and our shoulders nearly touch. Even in this moment of tension, I find comfort in his proximity. “Start talking.”
The male Devoted tilts his head up. A thin red line trickles from his split lip and disappears into the scruff of his beard. His head is shaved bare, including his eyebrows. When he smiles, he reveals red-stained teeth. “About what, Your Majesty?”
My jaw tightens. “What were you doing here?”
A muscle in Sterling’s neck tenses. The only indication he’s as pissed as I am. Inside my chest, fire magic throbs in time with my heartbeat, begging for release.
Should I brand the word Traitor on both their foreheads?
“We’re here to watch you flounder.” The Devoted man settles into the churned mud like it’s a throne. He possesses the soft hands of a nobleman. Or perhaps an accountant.
My own fingers curl into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms. The pain helps center me and keeps the fire inside where it belongs.
For now.
Rafe lurches forward, radiating impatience. “Where are the scientist-priests?”
The Devoted woman lifts her brown gaze, her eyes unnervingly vacant. “Who?”
Yeah, time for a branding.
Sterling must sense the direction of my thoughts because his shoulder brushes mine in a subtle reminder to maintain my cool.
The male Devoted’s smile widens as he watches our exchange. “Or…maybe you’d rather know what happened in Kamor’s central square this morning?” His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “What about in Tír Ríoga’s temple district?”
An icy finger trails down my spine.
His female companion picks up the thread, her previously vacant eyes now alight with unhinged fervor. “Meridia’s central plains? The outreaches of the Northern Volox?”
Sterling shifts beside me. “What the fuck are you talking about?” His voice remains level, but I catch the undertone of worry.
“While you’ve been here playing with trees,” Baldy’s gaze sweeps across the grove and damaged village, “magic has become possible again. It will soon be returned to the world.”
The words hang in the air like suspended droplets of water. No one speaks. Even the earth users assisting Agnar pause in their work, their heads swiveling toward us. My mind struggles to comprehend what he’s suggesting.
“The Devoted have demonstrated true magic in their own kingdoms. Just as we did here.” The glee in his voice churns my stomach. “Simultaneously. Water, fire, earth, and air. All elements bent to our will regardless of the user’s heritage.”
Stunned silence blankets us.
I share a glance with Sterling, whose eyes have darkened with concern. Rafe curses under his breath, flexing his fingers as if he wants to summon a gale to blow these fanatics away.
“You’re lying,” I finally manage, but even to my own ears, my voice lacks conviction.
The woman laughs, the high-pitched tinkling reminiscent of shattering glass. “Are we? Ask your scouts. While you’ve been containing our little distraction here, we’ve been changing the world.”
Realization dawns in Sterling’s eyes. “This was just a diversion.”
Baldy’s expression gentles, like that of a proud teacher when his slow student finally grasps a concept. “The first move in a very long game, Your Majesties.”
Holy. Shit.
If what they’re saying is true—if the Devoted somehow coordinated magical demonstrations across every kingdom simultaneously—we’re facing something far more organized and dangerous than we ever imagined.
These religious zealots outplayed us before we even knew the game had begun.