by Donna Grant
“What?” Synne asked in confusion. “Elin helped us. She wouldn’t turn on us now that she’s finally protected from the Coven.”
The Lady of the Varroki remained calm as she said, “People lie all the time. This could’ve been a ploy by the Coven to get inside our gates and swing the tide in their favor.”
Synne didn’t want to believe it. She opened her mouth to defend Elin, but then hesitated. What did she know about the witch? Nothing other than the fact that she had helped Asrail. And while Synne hadn’t wanted to believe the Gira about everything, she had. Why? Was she so desperate for a family that she would grab hold of any story someone—even a tree nymph—gave her?
If she hadn’t believed Asrail, none of this would’ve happened. Synne wouldn’t have believed that Elin was a friend and convinced her to join them on their journey to Blackglade. How stupid she had been. Synne had wanted more people to stand with them against the Coven, when she should’ve been doing everything she could to determine whether the stories she’d been told were true or not.
Synne looked at Lachlan. She couldn’t do anything to heal him because she didn’t have magic. But she was a Hunter. And she had spent some time with Elin.
Her head swung to Armir. “Let’s go find the witch.”
The two of them walked from the chamber and down the stairs to the rooms below theirs. Synne hadn’t realized that Elin had been in the tower, as well, but it made sense. Malene would want to keep strangers close instead of letting them find quarters inside the city.
Armir knocked on the door. “Elin? We need to talk.”
Seconds passed with no response. It was very early in the morning, so the witch could still be asleep. Armir tried a second time. When there was still no answer, he used magic to unlock the door and enter. Synne followed behind him to find that the bed had been slept in but was now empty.
Armir said nothing as he pivoted and walked out. No sooner had he descended the stairs than he was barking orders to guards Synne hadn’t seen before. She stood on the stoop outside of Elin’s chambers and looked at the city. The Varroki’s numbers had declined, but there were still a significant number of them.
“Synne.”
Her head moved toward the nearby trees. The call had come from the forest, but the trees had never spoken in words to her before. It intrigued her that she now heard actual words. She longed to go to them. They might be able to help her with the pain in her heart. Tears filled her eyes and fell down her cheeks before she could stop them. She wanted to find Elin, but her mind was filled with Lachlan. Synne turned and headed back up the steps. When she entered the chamber, there was no change with Lachlan, despite Malene and Helena both using magic.
No one needed to tell her that Lachlan was dying, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. The only way Synne could help him was to find who had betrayed them. She would uncover everyone involved, those who had torn her world apart and taken the man she loved from her.
Synne retraced her steps and went to locate Armir. It wasn’t difficult to find the Varroki as he stood near the tower, looking out over the city with a critical eye. She came to stand beside him.
“I have a hard time believing a Varroki would betray us,” he said.
Synne fisted her hands, wishing she had her bow. “You think it’s Elin?”
“She’s not in her chambers. That doesn’t look good. However, I’ll wait until the city has been searched to state my final opinion on the matter.” He looked at her. “I’m about to go look where Avis had been held. Want to join me?”
“I’d like that very much.”
She walked with Armir away from the city to the trees. Synne frowned the closer they got. Was it a coincidence that the trees had called to her, and Avis had been held here? She didn’t think so. But why hadn’t the trees spoken sooner? Why hadn’t they alerted Synne that something was going on?
The moment they entered the forest, Synne put her hand on a tree. The chaos within her dimmed enough that she didn’t feel as if she were being crushed under the weight of everything anymore. Several moments went by as she felt the tree enveloping her with comfort. Some might call it solace, and perhaps it was.
She didn’t ask it anything at first. Not because she didn’t want to know the answers, but because she hadn’t realized how much she needed the trees until that moment. She soaked up all the positivity radiating from the tree she was touching as well as the others. Bit by bit, she felt herself standing taller, feeling more confident. Finally, she opened her eyes to find Armir watching her.
“It’s amazing to see your connection to them,” he said.
She looked at the tree and smiled at it before letting her hand smooth down its bark. “So many believe that plants don’t have feelings. They would be wrong. The cry of a tree that is being felled is more painful than I could ever put into words.”
“What did this one tell you?”
“Nothing. It passed energy from itself into me because it felt my pain and wanted to help. All of the trees around me shared their energy.”
Armir glanced around them. “I could see it. I didn’t know what was happening, but your appearance changed. It looked as if you were getting stronger.”
“I need the trees, just as the Gira do. There is no denying that.”
“You believe Asrail is your grandmother?”
Synne shrugged. “I believe I’m part Gira.”
“Why not ask the trees?” Armir asked.
She narrowed her gaze on him. “Aren’t we going to Avis’s prison?”
“Aye. I put her in the forest because of your connection to the trees. I knew they would stand as guardians around her.”
Synne’s heart pounded in her chest. She looked at the tree and placed her other hand on it. She was hesitant to ask any questions because she feared the answers, but if she was to catch Avis and find who’d double-crossed them, she had to do it.
“Am I half-Gira?” she asked.
The trees had never shared words with her before today. She wasn’t sure if they had actually said her name earlier or if she had imagined it. She prepared herself for a flood of feelings like usual, but she heard her name instead.
Synne jumped back in shock.
“What is it?” Armir asked with a frown.
Instead of answering him, she put her hands back on the tree.
“You are Gira,” replied a multitude of voices.
Synne put her forehead against the tree. This time, using only her mind, she asked, “Is Asrail my grandmother?”
“You are blood of Asrail, once queen of the Gira.”
Tears fell from her eyes once more. “Is Asrail dead?”
“Not yet, though she is in the hands of the Coven.”
Synne looked at Armir and told him, “Asrail is my grandmother.”
“You have answers. That is good. Though you have more questions.”
He meant he had more questions, but in truth, they were the same ones she had. Synne lifted her eyes to look at the trees around her in the dark. She heard them creaking overhead as they swayed with the wind. Some found the sound scary. She found it comforting. She used to imagine that the limbs were reaching out for her in reassurance.
“You are one of us,” the trees replied.
She smiled. Then, keeping the questions in her mind only, she asked, “Was the witch Avis imprisoned in this forest?”
“Aye.”
“She wore my face.”
“Confused us. We tried to talk to you.”
Synne jerked as it dawned on her what had happened. “You thought I was imprisoned by the Varroki, so when someone came to free the witch, you didn’t call out?”
“Nay.”
The pain and anguish that came from the tree was enough to cause Synne to smooth her hands over the bark in comfort. “Thank you for trying to help me.” Synne dropped her hands and faced Armir. “Take me to where Avis was kept.”
He turned and waved her to follow him. As they fell in
to step together, he asked, “What did the trees say?”
“They believed Avis was me.”
Armir halted suddenly, surprise on his face. “And they thought you were being held against your will. Did they free you?”
“Nay, but that’s why I didn’t hear any kind of warning.”
“Did they say who released Avis?”
“I didn’t ask,” Synne said and kept walking. “Yet.”
They said nothing until she saw the first felled tree. Armir said something she didn’t make out, and then light flooded the area. That’s when they saw the multitude of trees that had been felled and blown up, fanning out from a central location. She didn’t need to ask to know that’s where Avis had been held.
Synne touched one of the felled trees and felt nothing. Its bark was black as if burned, and it was cold.
“Bloody hell,” Armir murmured.
Synne walked to the center where Avis had been held and turned in a slow circle. The violence that had occurred took out more trees than she had first guessed. How had she not heard their screams?
“No one should’ve been able to get through my magic,” Armir told her.
She met his gaze. “Someone did. And we’re going to find out who.”
37
The destruction of the trees was like a punch to Synne’s gut. But it was nothing compared to knowing that someone’s magic was strong enough to break through Armir’s spell.
Synne went to one of the evergreens that still stood. The limbs nearest the center of the blast radius were charred and now bare. She put her hands on it and gasped at the suffering she felt. Its soft cry reminded her of a whimpering dog that had been tortured.
She turned her head to Armir and asked, “Can you heal the trees that are still alive?”
He blinked, taken aback by her question. “You want me to—”
“Heal the trees,” she finished for him. “Aye. Can you do it? They’re suffering tremendously.”
He ran a hand down his face and shrugged. “I’ve never tried. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try.”
“That’s good enough.” She then spoke to the tree in her mind. “I’m so sorry. I know you are hurt, but the Varroki here is going to try and help you.”
Instead of asking that evergreen because of its pain, Synne walked farther until she found a deciduous that wasn’t hurting. She put her hands on it. “We’re trying to sort out what happened.”
“We know.”
Synne licked her lips, forgetting that the trees spoke to each other, as well. “Did you see who freed the witch?”
“We did.”
“Who was it?”
“Another witch. Elin.”
“Thank you,” she told the tree.
Synne faced Armir, gutted at what she’d learned. She didn’t interrupt as he crafted a spell. It was impressive to watch him work. She had seen witches, but she wasn’t used to seeing warlocks. Not that there was any difference in their magic. Yet Armir was different in that he put everything he had into a spell. He used his hands, his body, and words to shape the enchantment.
And when it moved from his hands to shoot out in all directions to the trees, Synne watched the pale blue light move like tiny fireflies. She wondered if he was aware that his magic was the same color as Malene’s radiance. Surely, he knew. But did she?
When he finished, and they both stood watching the spell begin to heal the trees, she found a reason to smile. That ended when Armir turned to her and said her name.
“You know who did this, don’t you?”
She nodded and slowly turned to him. “Elin.”
“We asked her to join us,” he said angrily and paced away.
She understood his reaction because she felt the same. “I know. It must have been part of her plan.”
Armir whirled back to her. “And Asrail? Her story is true? How does Elin tie into that?”
“We might never know. Asrail is my grandmother. I don’t know if the story she told me is true, but I can believe we’re blood. As for her friendship with Elin, there was genuine affection between them.”
“You can’t know that,” Armir stated. “After all, we both believed Elin was against the Coven. We need to get back to Malene and tell her.”
Synne put out a hand to touch his arm and halt him. “Your spell will continue with the trees?”
“Aye. Each of them hurt by the blast will be healed.”
“Thank you.”
He put a hand atop hers. “I may not feel their pain, but seeing the damage done here still causes me distress. Now that I know they hurt, we will do whatever we can to help any we come across.”
Synne hadn’t expected such a statement, and it must have shown on her face because Armir chuckled and pulled her along with him as he began the trek back to the tower. After a few steps, their hands fell by their sides.
“You’ve heard the tales of the Celts and the Norse?” Armir said.
Synne nodded. “Of course.”
“So, you know about the Tree of Life.”
She glanced at him. “I do.”
“The Varroki revere all life, whether it’s animals, plants, or people. I’m ashamed to admit that I never imagined the trees could communicate with us.”
Synne smiled at him. “Now you know. More than that, you recognize the importance of all life.”
They reached the tower in record time and returned to Synne’s chamber. She hoped when she walked in that a miracle had happened, and Lachlan would be sitting up, but that wasn’t the case. Disappointment weighed heavily on her.
Malene lifted her gaze when they walked in. “I’ve done all I can.”
Synne didn’t reply as she rushed to Lachlan and knelt beside him. She touched his face as the tears blurred her vision.
“It was Elin,” Armir announced. “She released Avis. The result was a blast in the forest that took down dozens of trees.”
Malene got to her feet and blew out a breath. “That means Sybbyl will have a second bone.”
“You assume Avis and Elin are bringing it to Sybbyl,” Helena said.
Synne no longer cared. Her heart was too broken to think about the Coven or the upcoming battle. She rested her cheek on Lachlan’s chest and let the tears fall.
“It could be a power play between the two sisters,” Armir said.
Malene snorted. “Do you honestly think either of them would share the power? Only one of them will wield the sword.”
“But do they stand a chance against Sybbyl?” Helena asked.
Synne had had enough. “Shut up!” she shouted as she turned to look at the trio. “Lachlan is dying, and all you can think about is a stupid bone. Who cares who has it now? A good man, one who was willing to sacrifice his life for us, is dying. If you aren’t going to respect that, then get out!”
“Forgive us,” Malene said and briefly put a hand on Synne’s shoulder before walking to the door.
Helena lowered herself to the floor next to Synne and took her free hand in hers. “That was thoughtless of us. I’m sorry.”
Synne no longer had any words. The tears were coming faster now. She looked at Lachlan. He appeared to be at peace, but she knew it was an illusion. The poison that was killing him was no doubt painful. Perhaps it was a blessing that she couldn’t see the agony he was in. If only someone could help.
Of all the people to attempt to heal Lachlan, Synne had expected Malene’s magic to do it. After all, she was the strongest of the Varroki. But it had done nothing. She squeezed her eyes shut and thought back to the brief time she’d had with Lachlan.
Somehow, a memory of her first encounter with Asrail filled her mind. Synne’s tears dried instantly as she sat up. “I need to get Lachlan to the forest.”
“Wait,” Helena said as Synne got to her feet and attempted to lift Lachlan. “You’re going to need help.”
Synne ignored her. She had one of Lachlan’s arms around her shoulders and was struggling to get him to sit up. She hadn’
t realized how heavy dead weight was. At this rate, it would take her years to get him to the forest.
Suddenly, she was able to get Lachlan upright. When she looked to the side, she saw that Jarin was there. He gave her a nod, and Synne stepped away to allow him the room he needed to get Lachlan over one shoulder.
Synne rushed to the door as Jarin followed her. She ran into the forest and waited for Jarin, who was followed by Helena. When Jarin finally reached her, Synne helped him lower Lachlan to the ground and then covered him.
“The Gira can heal themselves,” Synne said. “But only with the help of the trees. Asrail said I would never be without the trees because their roots run beneath the ground.”
Jarin moved back a few paces. “I hate to state the obvious, but Lachlan isn’t a Gira.”
“I know.”
Synne didn’t want to think about what might happen if this last-ditch effort didn’t work. She had no one else to turn to, and nothing left to lose. She sat at Lachlan’s head and put one hand on him and the other on the ground.
“Hear me, my friends,” she said aloud. “You have protected me, sheltered me, and given me peace. I didn’t realize our connection until recently, but it never mattered. You were part of me. You were always there, wherever I went. Now, I come to you with a request that I realize you might not be able to help with. The man I fell in love with, Lachlan, has been hurt by a witch, using my own arrows. That same witch killed many of your kin earlier as she broke free of her prison. Nothing the Varroki have done has been able to help Lachlan. He’s a good man. He’s…everything to me. I have no magic, but I’m begging you to help heal him.”
Seconds turned to minutes, and nothing happened. Synne squeezed her eyes closed again as a torrent of tears came. She wasn’t angry at the trees. It wasn’t their fault that she didn’t have magic. She was only half-Gira, and while that half allowed her to communicate with the trees, it didn’t give her anything else that could save Lachlan.
“I’m sorry,” she told him.
When she heard his last ragged breath leave his body, Synne knew her heart would never be the same. She was sobbing freely as she moved to lay beside him in the same position they had fallen asleep in the day before. The sun was just cresting the horizon, the light chasing away the darkness.