The Lost Garden: The Complete Series

by D. K. Holmberg

  Another vision. This had been much like the other, but different as well. The first vision she had seen the creation of the Svanth Forest, had lived it as the first keeper planted the trees, guided the roots into patterns, weaving the story of the forest and the keepers into the deepest depths of the earth and watched as it grew to become something more than what she’d ever intended.

  This…this had been another keeper, but one with less skill. She could read the story hidden in the roots and recognized there was something more she needed to know, but had not discovered anything more. A keeper of the forest, but not the Keeper.

  A keeper uncertain of her role at first, but who had learned it over time.

  Perhaps Eris had this vision for a reason. Had the forest gifted it to her to teach her that she could still serve much as that keeper had? She didn’t need to possess the same skill as the first keeper to serve the needs of the forest. Maybe bonding to the teary star flower would allow her to still serve the forest.

  Or could there have been a different reason for the forest to grant her the vision?

  That keeper sensed a deep power beneath the forest, and Eris remembered the first keeper making some comment, though she couldn’t remember now what she’d said. But could that power be the reason she’d been granted the visions?

  And then there was the way the keeper had obsessed over the secrets hidden within the roots, the same way Eris had obsessed over what she could learn from the forest. Terran shared many of the same fears Heath had described.

  More than that, she’d felt peace as that keeper. Peace that came from accepting what she could do, the help she could offer the trees as she worked to keep them healthy.

  More than anything that made Eris feel the fool. She wasn’t a keeper to attack the magi. She was a keeper to help and heal. Even if the forest wasn’t her garden, the teary star was her flower. She would do what she needed to protect it.

  She sighed and pushed to her feet. And though there were secrets the first keeper knew, secrets she’d somehow woven into the growth of the forest, maybe Eris wasn’t the person to understand.

  Turning to the nearest svanth tree, she ran her hand across the surface. The barbs worked along the teary star vine twisted away, turning so as not to pierce her skin. They hadn’t done the same for the other keeper, but she had been a keeper of trees whereas Eris was a keeper of flowers. And the teary star was her flower.

  A small shoot worked off the vine as it twisted along the branch. Eris coaxed it a bit until it reached the right length for a clipping. Working carefully, she separated the small shoot and stuffed it into the pocket of her cloak. Seeds from the svanth littered the floor of the forest around their base, hard and thick, and nearly impossible to crack. Some meat could be found within, but not enough to make the work of opening them worth it. She took a dozen and placed them into her pocket as well.

  She stepped out of her slippers and touched the ground with bare feet. The earth was cool and reminded her of the coming autumn. Leaves would change in the trees. Eris had never lived near the Svanth during fall but had seen the changing colors often enough in her visions that she knew what to expect. Svanth trees would turn a brilliant shade of red, blazing through the forest. Maples scattered throughout would add their own touch of auburn and red. Elms and birch would add swirls of yellow, striping through the forest. The way they were positioned would create a swooping pattern…

  Eris stumbled.

  How had she missed that before?

  But she’d never lived here during fall; of course she would miss it. The colors couldn’t be accidental, not the way they focused, swirling inward in much the same pattern as Lira created at the heart of her garden, focusing the energy so that it pierced the heart. Was that the hidden message the keeper had missed—the source of power she glimpsed? Could that power be nothing more than a pattern to the trees?

  She delved, tracing along the roots. As she did, she felt one of the trees near the heart—a tall, broad oak with massive branches spreading around it—afflicted with the same rot she’d sensed along the outer edge of the forest.

  If it spread, the svanth trees could be affected. Her teary stars would fail.

  Though she might not be the keeper here, she had the sudden urge to protect the vines.

  Eris sighed out, reaching for a connection to the teary star. It was tenuous, as if even her flower didn’t want to respond to her command. She focused on the rotting tree, the sense of danger to the rest of the forest, and drew on the energy.

  It came to her fitfully at first, but then flowed easily.

  Eris pressed it into the oak, filling it with the energy she drew, washing over it like a heavy rain. The rot receded, almost as if it were something she could touch if she only knew how, pressed away by the energy she drew until it disappeared from the tree.

  Once satisfied the oak was restored, Eris held onto the tendril of energy she drew from the teary star and delved.

  This time, she focused outward. Always before, she had listened at the heart of the forest, delving through the svanth trees. The lessons were there, beckoning her, demanding she come and learn more, calling as they had after she’d defeated the magi so long ago. It was this sense that drew her attention, always pulling her deeper, always tantalizing her with hints of what she might learn but never did.

  Eris ignored it.

  Pushing out, she reached past the heart of the forest. Other trees lived there, not only svanth trees. There, she traced along the roots of massive elms and birch and oaks, each giving a different flavor to the forest. Now that she recognized the pattern, she saw it develop within her mind, flowering out from the center of the forest like petals. Eris trailed along each, recognizing how the different trees created a distinct trail. In her mind, she could almost recognize the pattern. There was a familiarity to it that she knew she should be able to recognize, but could not. With more time, she thought she could identify it…

  And then what? She was not the keeper of the forest. Lira had been mistaken in that. The teary star was a flower, not a tree. Her bond to it meant she was destined to be a keeper of flowers, much like Lira.

  At the edge of the forest, she felt Lira’s garden. It filled the spaces between trees, a mixture of vipeslars and loras and sicklethorns, dozens of other shade flowers, all growing in another pattern. The garden focused the energy it drew, storing it. Lira could draw upon it from Eliara, use its power to augment what she grew in the city.

  But something about the garden felt off. The pattern faltered. Eris could not say what she sensed—did the forest attempt to reclaim the borrowed land?—but she suspected that in time, the focus Lira worked into the flowers—the pattern itself—would fail. And then Lira would be left with only the palace garden.

  What did that mean for her mother?

  Eris sighed and pushed out with her senses.

  Several moments passed as she struggled to understand what she felt, and then she realized what seemed different. The forest creature had returned. She sensed it distantly, near the northern border, prowling around the edge.

  If it had returned, then it was time for her to leave.

  Eris released her connection to the trees, hating to do so as she did. She might be a keeper of flowers, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel a connection to the trees. They had protected her when the magi tried to harm her and her sister. They had saved Terran when she could not. How could she resent them?

  But she was not their keeper.

  It ached to admit that to herself.

  Eris started through the woods. It was time for her to return to Eliara and learn what she could from Lira. And if there was time, perhaps she could help her mother.

  * * *

  When she reached the edge of the forest, she paused. The air tingled as she passed, leaving her feeling exposed once again. There was a certain comfort being beneath the heavy canopy that she couldn’t put words to, but the creature trailed through the forest and neared the heart
. Eris was happy to leave it behind.

  An overcast sky greeted her. Thick clouds threatening rain moved from the north, riding on the heavy, gusty wind. Eris pulled her cloak tighter around her, inhaling deeply before leaving the comfort of the forest for good.

  Near her, the Verilain Plains stretched to the south. Eris started through, not fearing the needlegrass as she once would have. The long grasses pulled away from her, bending as if she spoke to them, kneeling as she moved. Eris moved carefully but quickly. Much of the damage done by the magi had regrown, but there was a bare patch near the center of the plains.

  She had seen it when she and Terran made their way to Eliara before but hadn’t put much thought to it. This time, she paused. The ground was singed all around her, creating a rim where the grasses refused to grow. The air held the remnant of char, as if what the magi had burned months ago still held.

  And, considering what she sensed at the border with Saffra, maybe it did.

  Eris touched the earth and delved.

  Immediately, she wished she had not. The ground was dark and lifeless, nothing like the rest of the plains around her. There was a void where the grasses once had grown—where they should be growing now. She understood why the grasses refused to regrow. Was this what the magi did elsewhere? Was this the desolation along the border between Errasn and Saffra, the reason it felt wrong?

  Eris stepped away from the center of the burned area. The sense of the needlegrass returned. She sent an encouragement for the grasses to move toward the center, feeling a need for life to return where the magi had decimated it. But the grasses would not, as if afraid to cross a border. Worse, it seemed as if the grasses began to pull away from the clearing, receding from the effects of the magi. Already it seemed much larger than it had when she and Terran crossed through the first time.

  The grasses were not hardy enough.

  How much longer before this clearing doubled? Tripled? Given enough time, Eris wondered if the grasses would pull away altogether.

  As a keeper, she couldn’t let that happen.

  Out of curiosity, she took one of the svanth seeds and brought it to the center of the clearing before thinking otherwise. Eris hurried to the edge of the clearing and grabbed a few handfuls of dirt, piling them atop the seed. She took the small cutting of the teary star as well and held it in her hand.

  Bracing herself, she delved into the grasses. The awareness of the grasses filled her. Eris swayed with them, filling her senses with the power this garden possessed. She followed her awareness of the grasses all the way from the Svanth Forest to Eliara. Then she summoned the energy stored within the plains.

  She did not do so as a request.

  The energy responded, filling Eris.

  Carefully—tentatively—she pushed that energy out into the svanth seed.

  Eris had no idea whether it would work. She’d never attempted anything like it, and she didn’t know if being a keeper of flowers would allow her to exert any influence over the trees, but she’d done something in Imryll’s forest. The teary star had grown at her command; the svanth tree had seemed strengthened by what she’d done. If Eris could only manage to coax it to bloom…

  And then she felt it.

  The seed cracked. Life rippled out from it, fed by the energy of the Verilain Plains that she commanded. Eris forced more and more of this energy into the fledgling svanth, feeding it with raw energy. As it poked from the ground, she set the teary star cutting alongside, splitting the power so that it fed them both.

  At first, they were separate. The svanth grew, rising slowly from the ground until it reached her waist. The teary star worked downward, sending its roots deep into the earth. And then, the roots of the teary star touched those of the svanth, and the vine began twisting toward the sapling.

  The energy she fed them merged, joining back together, as if vine and tree were one. It grew more slowly, rising to her chest. The teary star vine wove around the trunk, and Eris guided it, using a sense of the tree’s needs as she did so. Leaves bloomed from branches, unfurling like a cat stretching after a long nap.

  The energy she pulled from the plains began to wane. Before it did, she sent a command to the teary star, asking it to swirl its roots around the clearing and wall it off. There was a twinge of response, and Eris was startled to realize both the svanth and the teary star vine answered her request.

  Then Eris sank to her knees.

  The tree was not large, but given enough time, it should grow into something more impressive. She had given it a start, and hopefully, that would be enough.

  Through her connection to the plains, she had a sense of appreciation over what she’d done. The grasses growing nearest the tree grew heartier, as if strengthened by its presence.

  Eris knelt for a few moments, gathering herself. Weakness washed over her, and she pulled on the energy from the plains around her, straining for additional strength. When she managed to stand, she walked around the edge of the circle. Something had changed.

  The grasses no longer crowded away from the clearing, but it was more than that. Life hadn’t returned to the area the magi destroyed, but from the way the roots of the teary star and the svanth tree worked around the edges, there seemed a chance that life might return.

  Eris delved the earth at the center of the clearing. The ground was barren and empty, but no longer did she feel the cold and harsh sense when she’d first delved.

  She ran her hand along the trunk of the tree. The teary star vine twisted, writhing like an animal wishing to be petted, the smallish barbs of the thin vine bending away from her. Eris breathed a little more energy into the vine, and a shoot curled off. She pinched it off and stuck it into her pocket.

  Then she turned and continued through the plains toward Eliara.

  Chapter 49

  As Eris stepped from the needlegrass, the long blades bent back together, sliding as if she’d never been there. Eris couldn’t help but note how different the grasses treated her than the trees. Always before she’d felt it had to do with her knowledge. Now, she understood she wasn’t the right keeper, but how did she command the grasses?

  Rolling hills spread before her. A copse of trees, a mix of oak and maple, grew nearby. A figure lounged on the ground, watching the plains. It rose when she stepped away from the grasses and then didn’t move.

  Eris recognized Terran by the shape of his build. She hurried toward him hesitantly. What would he say about her absence? Had he even missed her as she’d missed him?

  Without saying a word, Terran took her in a long embrace.

  “You didn’t leave without me, did you?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I—” she started, but how to explain what happened with her sister when she didn’t even understand? “I’m sorry I was gone. I don’t really know what happened.” That much was the truth. Eris still didn’t know how she had gone from the palace in Eliara to the northern forest. Imryll hadn’t given her any insight either.

  “Where were you?”

  She shook her head. So much she wanted to tell him, but where to start? Did she begin by telling him about how she nearly died? Or had he learned? Had he seen blood in her rooms and come searching for her? But if he had, how had he known where to find her?

  “North. Learning about my abilities.”

  His mouth tightened slightly, and disappointment crossed his eyes, but he only nodded. “Did you find what you needed?”

  She snorted. “I don’t know what I need anymore.”

  Terran tipped his head, waiting for her to say more. “You return to Eliara?”

  “I need Lira to teach what she can about flowers.” Eris didn’t want to tell Terran that she had been wrong about being a keeper of trees. That the Svanth was not her place. How would he react?

  “About her…”

  “What?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck and met her eyes. “Lira held together as long as she could, but Eris…”

  She pushed away from h
im, dreading what he would say next.

  “It’s your mother. Something’s different. Lira doesn’t know what it is, but the disease is spreading beyond what she can manage. And there’s more.”

  She didn’t need him to tell her what else happened. She felt it, the same way she could trace the roots of the trees or grasses. It felt so much like what the magi had done to the ground in the Verilain Plains, only on a larger scale. Saffra pushed forward. As it did, Errasn died.

  “The magi.”

  Terran nodded.

  “Can she do anything?”

  “She says she’s not strong enough.” He watched her, a frown furrowing his brow. “Something changed for you.”

  Eris inhaled deeply, uncertain how to answer him. He’d been there from the beginning, supporting her, and deserved the truth, only she wasn’t certain what the truth really was.

  “I…” She didn’t know how to finish.

  Terran pulled her against him. “What happened to you? When I came looking for you, I found nothing. Your room was empty, as if scrubbed clean. Where did you go?” His voice held the accusation he’d withheld from it, the disappointment and anger and relief.

  “It was Ferisa,” she started.

  Terran waited, watching her.

  “She attacked me. Stabbed me,” she said, pointing to her stomach. “I should be dead.” She still didn’t understand why she wasn’t.

  Terran’s eyes widened, and his jaw clenched. “Your sister? But why?”

  “I don’t know. She’s with the priestesses now. And there was something…” She trailed off. What had the priestesses said? In the time before her visions, before she’d been taken to Imryll’s forest, she overheard a conversation. The priestesses didn’t fear Lira, but they did Eris.

  But why?

  All she remembered was something about seeing dangerous light around her, but what did that mean?

  Terran held onto her, stroking her hair, her back. She leaned against him, appreciating his strength, the earthy scent that was so much his. They stood like that for a moment.