Chapter Twelve #2
Roots grabbed hold of my ankles, yanking them out from under me. My back slammed against the ground, air whooshing out of my lungs. I lay stunned for mere seconds, but it was enough for the dryad to stalk over, a small grin on his rough-hewn features.
I stilled, finding my center. I called to the water in the soil beneath me and the vapor in the air. But what could harm a tree? “Stop!” I yelled.
It paused, curiosity winning out over its rage. A veiled amusement glimmered across his features.
I sat up, and in that moment, another tree strode over. My shoulders slumped. I couldn’t stand against more than one dryad.
“She is under my charge. Release her.” The hamadryad scowled, rolling his seething eyes, but miraculously complied.
The roots receded and the two trees communicated in a language I couldn’t decipher.
There was huffing and the ground trembled beneath me, but in the end, the interceding tree motioned for me to stand and run away. So I did.
I traveled in the direction I had last seen the young girl, wildly searching for her. “Hello?” I yelled, cupping my hands around my mouth. I never got her name. How would I find her?
Several yards away, huddled against the earth, I discovered the elusive child seeking to cover herself with debris in a vain effort of camouflage.
Around her, the soil and leaves lay damp with the remnants of my magicked barrier of water.
I caught her eye and her scrambling stilled, arms dropping in relief.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“You saved me,” she responded, dazed. I offered a curt nod. Of course I would protect her, she was but a child, not that she could have known that. “Where is the dryad?” Her eyes darted around, searching for the lumbering beast.
“I think we are free of it for now. We need to leave these woods, though; it isn’t safe.”
Her shoulders relaxed, though she continued searching the forest.
“I’ve been lost in the woods before.” I kicked at some leaves as I moved closer to her, hoping to distract her from her fears. “When I was little, I used to make flower crowns to pass the time, until I found my way back home. Have you ever made one?”
Her eyes lit up. “I haven’t! Will you show me?” She scrambled to her feet.
I pulled down a vine that had laced itself up a tree trunk.
I flinched when I cut the main stalk, unsure whether it would shout at me.
I had no idea what was alive among the trees.
“Watch me.” I began to braid strands of the vine together.
It had been years since I last did this, but the action came back easily, my muscle memory taking over.
I found some small yellow flowers poking out from beneath fallen leaves. “Gather some of those, but leave plenty of stem.” I pointed.
She bent over and picked several flowers. “My name’s Korin. Thank you for helping me.” She stood, smiling, dropping the flowers in my palm.
I weaved them into the crown before placing it on her head.
The saffron petals stood out against her dark hair.
I braided a few of her own strands among the crown to keep it secure.
I stepped back in shrewd assessment. She twirled for me, beaming.
“Now you’re a proper Wilderess. A lady of the wilds. ”
Her stomach interrupted our charade with a growling protest. “When I get back to Lyrae, I’m going to get the biggest plate of roasted rabbit, with fresh bread. And maybe even a chocolate tart!” She devolved into “mmms” and giggles.
The last of her trepidation disappeared and we began walking toward what I believed to be the direction of Lyrae. Darkness had crept upon us. The sun seemed to have set quicker in these woods than they did in Haluma. I strained to see within the increasing shadows.
A breeze tousled my hair, and Korin startled beside me. “Thank you for your kindness,” she rushed out.
Her curly hair grazed her shoulders, a few strands getting stuck in her mouth from the same errant breeze. “Maybe you can teach me more about flower crowns. I’d love to learn how to braid—” Her words stalled as she peered beyond me.
I turned in the direction of her gaze as a man emerged from the shadows, stalking toward us.
I covertly palmed my dagger while reaching for Korin, pulling her closer to me and away from the potential danger.
Another dryad? I steeled myself at the oncoming threat.
My iced longsword extended from my other hand, tiny crystal shards spraying into the darkness like flecks of stardust.
“Korin.” The man’s voice was iron and velvet, his gaze hard as flint. I barely made out his form in the shadows that engulfed us. But I recognized the swirling darkness, and the large man within them. My longsword dissolved into harmless drops.
As soon as he noticed my water magic he tensed. “Get behind me, Korin. Now.”
Korin’s brow furrowed. “He can be a little intense,” she whispered. She offered an apologetic look before stepping toward Judd. I gave her an encouraging smile.
Judd’s amber eyes glittered amidst the gloom, assessing me as I did him.
His presence stalled me, filling me simultaneously with frustration and fascination.
He carried himself with regal confidence, as if he owned the woods themselves.
His aura pulsed a gentle midnight blue. Power pressed down on me.
The waves of lethality and the gleam of the twin swords peeking over his massive shoulders severed my trance.
I glanced quickly away and toward Korin, “Do you know this man?”
She held her soft smile, nodding in affirmation. “Thank you again.”
The gratitude was all mine. She was a part of the rebellion, and she could lead me straight to them. I didn’t want to harm her, but I wasn’t above using her trust to uncover the Crimson Wolf.
Black metal rings clinked as he enclosed her small hand in his own.
Shadows hazed around him, obscuring his features.
He tugged Korin to his side, her flower crown jostling at the movement.
She gave me a reassuring wink, threading her slender arm into his muscular one.
Then, offering me an imperceptible nod, they backed into the consuming shadows.
I blinked as light resumed its descent through the scraggly branches of the trees.
I stood there for several minutes. The trill of birds again filled the ambient silence.
I could only hope that Korin was as safe as she had led me to believe.
I kept my dagger in my hand, lingering a few more minutes before finally trekking back to my horse.
Gathering the reins and recognizing my dehydration after expelling so much magic, I closed my eyes and threw out my affinity in searching ripples.
My water called to any nearby streams or ponds waiting for a response.
The gentle lap of a reply sang as I mounted my mare and followed the magical pull leading me to water.
Floating leaves drifted lazily around me as if suspended by the magic of the wood.
I briefly wondered about the peculiar earthquake while I made camp. Under the silver light of twinkling stars, I rehashed the day’s events. My mind strayed to haunting amber eyes before the exhaustion of the day hit me, and sleep pulled me under.