34. Chapter 34
Popping and cracking wood woke Yareli up.
Flames licked their way toward her like a ravenous tongue intent on consuming everything.
She rolled out of bed, her head whipping from side to side as she looked for an exit.
But flames danced in every corner except for the window behind her bed.
She pushed it open and sighed in relief when she was on the ground floor.
She rushed toward the middle of the road away from the fire, only pausing to cough the smoke out of her lungs.
Burning buildings surrounded the road; the sound of their splintering wood created a cacophony of impending destruction. She moved toward the town center, remembering the way from a few weeks ago at the Keepers’ Village.
Awareness seeped in like a cold chill; she was dreaming.
After the challenge, she had been taken to her assigned bedroom and collapsed on her bed.
Sleep had claimed her fast, submerging her in countless gentler dreams until this dream had snatched her from them and forced her awake.
She walked in earnest now, almost jogging, toward the town center.
There was something there, calling for her.
Anticipation grew inside her chest, like a wound coil ready to spring.
Heat smothered her like a tight blanket, sweat pouring down her back.
By the time she made it to the town center, she was drenched.
At first, she saw nothing of significance. Then, she heard it—a soft melody, light and airy, stirring in the wind. The ground trembled, throwing her off-balance, and a large tree erupted from the ground, dwarfing the buildings in size in mere moments.
Just as Yareli thought it would reach the clouds, it stopped. She gaped. Erected in all its blooming splendor, it was a contradictory image to the village burning to a crisp next to it.
Come, it seemed to say, and she obeyed, approaching it until thick roots jutting out from the ground stopped her in her tracks.
It seemed blasphemous to climb over them, but a tentative touch confirmed her suspicions—the tree was indeed calling for her.
She pushed herself up and over the roots and trekked her way to the trunk.
Standing before it, she was struck again by its magnificence.
She placed her palm on its trunk. Its dark, rough bark was cool to her touch, but underneath the silence, there was a pulse of life.
“What are you?” she whispered, awe coloring her tone with wonder.
There was a short pulse in response as if it heard her and responded.
“It’s striking, isn’t it?”
Yareli startled, turning to see the same blonde-haired Fae from her previous dream standing next to her.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Something lost to time.”
“And you? Who are you?”
She smiled and walked closer to the tree, hovering her hand above its trunk. “You could say I’m also lost to time.” She touched the trunk.
The buoyant melody that had shielded them from the flames that devoured the village stopped, replaced by a drumbeat that vibrated Yareli’s bones.
It shattered her connection with the tree.
She stepped away as its bark began to slough off, revealing its inner white skin marred by protruding, grotesque red veins that looked ready to burst. She tripped over an upturned root, watching in horror as the tree began to burn. A scream sliced through the air.
“Return to the palace and claim the power you seek,” the blonde Fae said.
Yareli slid her gaze to her. “Wh—”
A branch fell next to her, missing her by a few inches.
It sparked her into action, and Yareli ran from the tree.
Another scream pierced the air, and she looked around before she realized it had come from her.
She clamped her lips together but failed to stop another scream from tearing her throat.
With a loud crack, the tree, once majestic in its size and beauty, came crashing down to the ground.
She woke up with the faint smell of smoke in her nose.