by Cindy Dees
“The Great Circle is the representation of the Green Throne. It is made up of the eldest of treants, the great beasts of Urth, and totem spirits.” They maintain—maintained—the balance and looked to the well-being of nature on behalf of the Green Lady. Lord Bloodroot was one of them. But given that a piece of his heartwood resides on your chest, and his spirit within you, Will Cobb, I can only assume he has been destroyed. If that is so, then the Great Circle is no more.” He added heavily, “The circle was my responsibility as Mythar to defend.” Grief wreathed the elf’s features. “Not only did I fail my people with my death, but apparently I failed the land as well.”
“Would restoring the Great Circle restore balance to Urth?” Raina asked.
Gawaine shrugged. “I doubt it would be as simple as that, particularly given the scale of the destruction if Lord Bloodroot’s current condition is any indication. For the task of repairing Urth to have fallen to children such as yourselves speaks of dire times indeed.”
Will blurted, “My father passed the quest to me. He was about to be killed by Boki and it was his dying behest to me.”
Gawaine merely nodded.
When Gawaine did not elaborate about the Boki, Will asked, “What can you tell me of this disk?”
“It is Bloodthorn wood. That is a piece of Bloodroot’s tree, a piece of the heartwood from the exact center of the tree. Bloodthorn is renowned for its poisonous thorns, sap, leaves, and, of course, poisonous fruits if not prepared properly. Even the wood of the Bloodthorn bears traces of death and destruction within it that make for fierce weapons. Clearly, you have had excellent training to channel both its power and its darker emotions successfully. I would urge you to continue that training if you wish to retain the disk.”
“Retain!”Will exclaimed. “It is my fondest wish to be rid of this thing and the spirit within it!”
“If that is your choice, Will Cobb, I will honor it,” Gawaine replied gravely.
“Why on Urth would it not be my choice?”
“Unlike me, you are actually here in this place in totality, both physically and spiritually. This grove is designed to trap spirits, but with your bodies here, you can walk out of it if you choose. That is such a small piece of Lord Bloodroot’s physical form that it could not carry his spirit out of this place were he disconnected from your body. If I remove that piece of him from you now, his spirit will be trapped here eternally with mine.”
“What of me?” Will asked.
“Assuming that separating the two of you does not kill you, your body and spirit will return to Urth and you will go on as if nothing happened. The temporary health you are experiencing here will be fully restored to you back there. However, it is unlikely that Lord Bloodroot would ever be able to return to Urth.”
Will failed to see the downside of that proposition.
Gawaine continued, “Make no mistake. This place may be beautiful, but it is my prison. And it will become Bloodroot’s prison, as well.”
“Why is that bad?” Will demanded. “If he is as malevolent as you say, isn’t it a good thing to trap him here, forever?”
“Bloodroot represents part of the natural order of life. Dark though he may be, his is an important part of the cycle of life, death, and new life. If Bloodroot does not go back to the material plane with you, the Great Circle can never be reborn nor ever be complete.”
“Which means what?” Raina asked warily.
“Which means my mother—the Green Lady, you call her, the essence of nature itself—will be weakened even more, and this Empire of yours will be able to gain a permanent foothold on Haelos. The Kothites will gain power over the living land itself.”
“And if I keep this cursed disk upon my chest and Bloodroot’s spirit within me?” Will asked reluctantly.
“There is a chance the Great Circle can be restored, and the damage caused by these Kothites to the land can be repaired. On a personal note for you, Bloodroot can teach you to be more than you will ever become on your own.”
Will stared. He thought back to the extraordinary senses Bloodroot had channeled through him. The extraordinary knowledge of woodcraft. The enhanced awareness of nature. His ability to speak with animals. The way the dryads deferred to him. All of that could be his and not just borrowed from the parasite within him?
Gawaine was speaking again. “Removing Bloodroot from you may kill you. If you die here—which means your body becomes separated from your spirit within this grove—your spirit will also be trapped here. Forever. It will bond to one of those trees over there, and you will never again see the young lady who inspires the deep feelings I sense within you.”
Panic clawed at Will over the notion of never seeing Rosana again. He had to get back to her!
Gawaine continued, “Likewise, leaving Bloodroot attached to you will ultimately kill you when you return, unless you find a mortal cure for his poison.”
Kill me? He was dying in truth, then?
“Frankly, I’m surprised you lived long enough to find me.”
Will jerked his chin in Raina’s direction. “Without her healing and the healing of another, I would already be dead.”
Gawaine studied Raina intently for a moment, and then comprehension lit his face. “An arch-healer. Convenient that you two came together. Or mayhap not convenient at all. The fates do seem to have taken quite an interest in you two.”
Raina answered quickly, “Not in us, Your Majesty. In you. Everything and everyone who has helped us has done so with the intent of seeing us wake you.”
Gawaine was silent for a time while Will’s mind whirled with the implications of the daunting future looming before him.
Eventually, Gawaine said gravely, “This must be your choice, Will Cobb. I will not tell you what to do. This time and these events are your destiny. What you choose, the world you make, is your responsibility.”
“Do you know the cure for Bloodroot’s poison?” Raina asked quickly.
Gawaine nodded. “I can tell you the ingredients and how to make the antidote. But I cannot manifest it outside this grove. My power is completely contained within this place. It is why I can make your friend healthy and whole, here. But he will return to his weakened state as soon as you leave my presence. You will have, at best, a short window of time upon your return to cure him.”
Will was still stuck on the elf’s previous words. It was his choice? Shock rolled through him. Since when did any peasant under the fist of the Empire have a choice in any but the most menial decisions?
This king would let him make so momentous a decision by himself? Surely Gawaine wanted him to take Bloodroot back. To repair the Great Circle. And yet the king did nothing to sway him, merely answering his questions and laying out the facts that Will might choose for himself.
It was a staggering exercise in freedom.
As an unfamiliar sense of power, of control of his destiny, coursed through him, Will suddenly understood his parents. This was what they fought for. This was what they had died for. And this was the quest they had set him upon. They wished for all people to have this. The rightness of what they did—what he did—sank into his bones and became a part of him in that moment. With it came certainty. His path in life was set, and now it remained only for him to walk it.
“Can you do it?” he asked Gawaine. “Can you free us all?”
Gawaine stared at him long and hard before finally answering slowly, “I cannot promise to succeed. But I can promise to try.”
A few yards away, a tree suddenly began to move as if a strong wind rattled its limbs. Will jumped up in alarm, for not a breath of air stirred across his skin. Raina did the same beside him. But Gawaine remained seated as if nothing were amiss.
“Ahh,” the elf murmured, “Bloodroot manifests. I thought he might once he realized doing so would not kill you, here.”
Will stared as the knots and whorls in the tree bark shifted subtly, taking on the vaguest of humanoid aspects. It was not exactly a face, and yet the sugg
estion of eyes and nose and mouth appeared upon the wood.
The mouth cracked open slightly, revealing raw, green pith beneath the bark almost like the inside of a mouth. A deep, gruff sound grated painfully upon Will’s ears, vibrating through his body until he had to restrain an urge to move away from the discomfort of it. “Willcobb.”
“Bloodroot?” he blurted. “Is that you?”
Gawaine commented, “This is somewhat closer to his true form than he is capable of on Urth at the moment.”
“Willcobb,” the voice rasped. “I can help you save your friends. The one who was taken … Kendrick. I know him. I know where this captor lives. I can help you find your friend if you take me back—”
Gawaine surged to his feet. “Stop that, Bloodroot!” he ordered sharply. “This has to be his decision entirely. No coercion. No blackmail.”
The tree’s limbs drooped slightly, almost as if Bloodroot bowed to Gawaine. Bloodroot rasped slowly, “Mythar, without me, the boy will be hard-pressed to find his friend. Kendrick was taken by Moonrunner, keeper of the Wolf.”
Gawaine’s eyes lit with recognition, but he stood firm. “Nonetheless. The boy’s choice must be his own. He must take full responsibility for whatever happens, going forward. Fate has set a possible path before him. But his destiny is his own. Success or failure, life or death, with you or without you—it is his choice.”
Bloodroot fell silent. The tree lord radiated displeasure at Gawaine’s command, but clearly was not going to disobey the Mythar.
Into the silence, Will asked, “If I were to keep Bloodroot within me, what would happen?”
Gawaine answered, “Because time works differently here, I cannot tell you how much time you would have on Urth to find a cure for yourself before you are overcome. Maybe months. Maybe minutes.”
Will replied, “What of my friends? Eben’s sister is possibly in the clutches of slavers. If Eben dies, who will rescue her? Kendrick was taken by this apprentice guy. Kendrick’s father, Landsgrave Hyland, has died and may or may not resurrect. With him gone, who but us will rescue his son? Will my other friends’ sacrifices be in vain? Eben dies even now of a wasting disease; Sha’Li died facing the fire hydra to reach you. Cicero is no doubt dead at the claws or teeth of a drakken—”
“What color?” Gawaine interrupted sharply.
“Green,” Will answered.
The king frowned heavily, but he spoke evenly enough. “If you go back, you may be able to help your friends. With Bloodroot’s help, you might stand a better chance of succeeding.”
The rest of that statement hung unspoken in the air. Assuming you do not die first.
Gawaine might be bent on giving Will a choice, but it was really no choice at all. His feet were already set upon this path, and he would not leave Rosana. Would not abandon his friends. Would not give up this sense of hope ever again. He could never meekly serve the Kothite Empire having once tasted the savory bite of freedom upon his tongue.
“I will keep Bloodroot,” Will announced.
Gawaine looked relieved but sad at the same time. “I wish things were different. I would gladly stay here forever if it would give you your freedom. But these are the fates written in our stars. Greater hands than mine dealt you the hand you now must play. Know this, Will Cobb. Your path going forward is your responsibility alone and no one else’s.”
Will nodded soberly. “I would have it no other way.”
“So be it.”
* * *
Aurelius ducked back behind an outcropping of rock and hoped against hope that Anton and his men didn’t see where that blast of force magic had come from that mowed down a dozen of the most powerful rakasha mercenaries where they stood. It had been a foolish and dangerous stunt, but he had to do something to even the fight.
Anton, curse him, had been tossing those glass balls of airborne death like candy at babes. Each tinkling strike of shattered glass had resulted in a Boki dropping dead instantly. Anton had thinned the Boki lines to a fraction of their original strength, and his mercenaries had all but overrun the ridge.
Selea, crouching beside Aurelius once more, stared at him in shock. He shrugged. He’d warned the nulvari he planned to do whatever it took to help De’Vir’s boy and his friends.
Shortly after Selea had scared a century off Aurelius’s life by appearing at his side like a ghost, the Boki had mounted a charge over the ridge and into the vale that had succeeded in drawing Anton to chase after them. Once the governor had engaged in hot pursuit, the Boki force had melted back over the ridge and out of sight. The sounds of battle were fading beyond the ridge as the combat drew farther and farther from this little valley. Someday he must remember to ask Selea how he’d convinced the Boki to make that deceptive—and effective—charge. For surely it was the clever nulvari’s doing.
“Who goes there?” Krugar roared in their direction.
Aurelius cursed under his breath. He should have known the Imperial Army officer would know exactly where that blast of force magic had come from.
With a glare for Aurelius, Selea stood and stepped around the boulder. What is this? Betrayal from my old friend? After so many years? Had I misjudged Selea so badly? Is all lost? Our secret quest unmasked? All those questions and more tore through Aurelius’s shocked mind in the blink of an eye.
Aureilus was stunned when the nulvari shouted back at Krugar, sounding badly out of breath as if he’d just raced up. “Look to the governor’s flanks. It is a trap. Large Boki forces approach on both left and right! Look to your defenses!”
Selea’s shouted warning threw chaos into the undisciplined ranks of soldiers. They ran pell-mell toward the center of the line and Anton, hemming in the governor with a crush of his own men that effectively prevented him from throwing his gas poisons at the enemy.
Abruptly understanding Selea’s gambit, Aurelius stepped out, too. “Boki! They’re coming! Dozens of them!”
Selea strode forward and skidded to a stop in front of Krugar. “You must take up a defensible position. Your rear is completely vulnerable and more Boki than I can count are out there! Mayhap beyond the ridge there is a place. But this bowl valley is a death trap.”
Krugar nodded in frustrated agreement. A highly trained tactician, he needed no convincing to get out of this place. With Anton temporarily trapped and overrun by his own troops, Krugar seized the moment to order his own men and all the soldiers within hearing to relocate over the hill and form a defensive formation.
Selea’s ploy worked brilliantly. Anton was swept along with his panicking troops and disappeared out of sight beyond the ridge. Selea’s surprise appearance also seemed to have broken the battle rage that gripped Anton and made the governor aware of the vulnerability of his position. Nothing like a little trickery to turn the tide when brute force failed.
Aurelius turned to his old friend and murmured under his breath, “Since when does your code of honor allow a nulvari to lie?”
Selea’s white eyebrows shot up practically to his snow-white hair. “I never lie.”
“You told Anton more orcs are coming.”
“I did not lie. There is a forest full of orcs coming. It’s just a question of when they will get here. The Boki will die to the last man, woman, and child to protect this place.” Aurelius grinned broadly as Selea continued, “It is certainly no lie that Anton’s flanks are exposed. One might safely say this entire expedition has left his drawers flapping in the breeze, in fact.”
“You sly dog—” Aurelius started.
“You two,” Krugar ordered briskly, “make yourselves useful and look to the defense of the flanks.”
“Of course, Captain,” Selea murmured politely. “It would be our honor.”
* * *
Raina started as Gawaine’s rather intimidating attention turned to her. He said evenly, “I gather your purpose in being here is not merely to heal your friend.”
How he knew that, she had no idea. She also had no idea how to begin asking the favor s
he wished of him. Given what he had already told Will of how his spirit was trapped within this grove, she doubted he could help her anyway. Instead, she asked, “What can you tell us of your reign?”
“To tell you all of it would take a long time even in the way time is measured here.”
“Can you tell us a little of who you were, at least?” she replied.
“I was a king in my day. I ruled over a great and peaceful nation known as Gandamere.”
That was the name the Laird of Dalmigan had used. Odd that she’d never run across it in all her studies of history. Had it been expunged from the history books, then? Interesting that the knowing of this man and his kingdom seemed to threaten them. It was strange to think of the Empire having vulnerabilities, but it must have some. It just worked very hard to hide them, apparently. Or was his kingdom so old the Kothites did not know of it?
Gawaine continued, “All races were welcome in my lands. But the troll king grew jealous of my country’s prosperity and invaded Gandamere. I failed to take him seriously enough at the beginning, and the mistake was a costly one. It was a bloody war. Too long. Too many lives lost. He drove deep into my lands and the war did not go well.”
Will interrupted, blurting, “Rudath. That was the name of the troll king, was it not?”
Gawaine looked at Will in surprise. “Yes, it was.”
“And in honor combat, you killed him the same moment that he killed you. Orcs served in his army along with trolls. I dreamed of it not long ago.”
“Did you, now?” Gawaine asked thoughtfully. “I wonder who gave you the vision. What else did you see?”
Will answered eagerly, “The orcs were called the Night Reavers. When Rudath died, they were freed from unwilling slavery to him. Their descendants came to revere you as their liberator.”
Raina asked carefully, “Did they revere him enough to become the guardians of his resting place?”
Gawaine gifted her with a smile for her cleverness. “I am told the Night Reavers’ descendants go by the name Boki.”
She asked quickly, “Who tells you about the current goings-on in our place and time?”