Fox rushed to join her, examining every inch of the wall. Using what little wind he could, he listened for any imperfection, any crack in the stone that might hint at a concealed passageway. And then, it opened. The right pressure on exactly the right indentation caused a door to suddenly appear, sliding inward on silent hinges. On the other side, stone steps led down into the darkness, with only the faint light of green-lit lanterns to illuminate their way. With one final nod at each other, Fox and Gully descended, as the dungeon door silently closed behind them.
The further down they traveled, the less man-made everything appeared. Smooth stone quickly melded with twisting wood, and the lanterns were replaced by green lights, flickering like spectral fireflies. There appeared to be hundreds of them, perhaps thousands, stretching across the ceiling and winking their way through the walls. The stairs became uneven, and Fox realized they were walking on ivy-covered roots, thick and gnarled. Out of habit, he reached for Gully’s hand protectively. She took it without hesitation, her fingers quivering.
“What’s that?” she asked suddenly. “There’s a light, up ahead.”
Fox could see it too. A faint green glow, stronger than the fireflies. The same green shade that snaked through all of Calibas. They were close then. Wordlessly, Fox drew one of his daggers, his every sense on edge. Down here, there was no wind at all. He felt for a moment like he was trapped back in the Beneath, that horrid series of passages beneath the Highborn Mountains. But then, they emerged into the open dungeon, and all other thoughts were driven from Fox’s mind.
The floor was nothing but darkness, swirling and pulsing, occasionally laced with streaks of green and silver. It was almost as if it weren’t solid at all, but merely a thick cloud. Fox hesitated to step into it, but as he did, he felt nothing. No solid ground beneath his feet, yet he did not fall. The darkness fell in wisps around his legs and ankles, but let him walk without harm. The walls and ceiling were nothing but branches, woven in and out of one another, all faintly glowing green. And at their heart was a massive tree, with a woman sitting cross-legged at its base, her back to the ivy-wrapped trunk.
Her clothes may have once been white and clean, but now the tree itself had begun to bleed across the fabric. Vines were wrapped around her wrists and arms like bracers, and their green color stretched beyond the leaves and into the cloth itself. Brown, twisted limbs held the woman around the waist, chest, and shoulders. Where her bodice had perhaps been cream or pale gold, it was now laced with small, creeping roots of brown and green and deepest black. Her hair was clearly blonde, but streaks of green were starting to run through it. And when she stared blankly ahead at them, it was with empty, white eyes with sprigs of leaves and tiny branchlets starting to creep their way out of her from the corners.
“Evie!” Gully shrieked, ripping herself from Fox’s grasp and racing to her friend. A handful of leaves shuddered as she passed, and the branches all seemed to lean in toward the intruders a bit, as though eager to protect their gardener. Fox made to shout after her, but caught himself. Nothing was attacking, nothing strangling. This woman was the one who had only watched him with her magic, rather than explore and attack. When he took a step forward, however, every leaf began to rustle violently, and every green firefly flickered faster and brighter. The branches groaned their displeasure, making sounds Fox had only heard before during winter storms in the faraway forests of home: the creaking of displeased wood, about to break.
“They fear you come to prune them,” said the woman’s unfamiliar and tired voice, as Gully knelt by her side. “Lower your shears, and they will be calm.”
Fox instinctually took a step back, not thrilled about sheathing his own dagger in such a strange place. But after only half an instant, he obeyed, tucking his knife away deep within his cloak. Almost at once, as promised, the rustling halted. The groaning fell quiet, and Fox was allowed to join the women at the tree.
“Evie,” said Gully gently, stroking the woman’s hair. “Evie, what’s happened? What is this?”
“This is Calibas,” she answered. Her voice was soft and dreamlike, but laced with quavering exhaustion. “This is the heart of the city. It has grown here quietly for generations, shaping everything above it. It is curious, and it was harmless. Then your brother found us. Experimented on us.”
There was a shift in her voice as she spoke, and Fox realized with a start that the plant was speaking through her. Gully seemed to have realized too, as she slowly pulled her hands back. Evie and the plant carried on as though nothing were strange.
“He taught us we could be strong. He taught us that people would want our power, and tried to give us caretakers. We didn’t like them. They felt angry and we absorbed them. Someone tried to look in on us from afar, and we killed them. They did not feel safe. But this one, we like her. She understands us.”
With a great shudder, Evie seemed to pull her mind free from the plant, and spoke as herself again. “They were hurting it, it started to lash out. That’s when your brother realized it could be used to his advantage. Once, all it wanted was to grow, and to protect its city. But, it is strong. Powerful. Magical. It is no longer content to simply watch humankind from the shadows and cracks in the stonework. Lord Gilvard told it that it could re-shape the world.”
High above them, the leaves began to quiver again, whispering against each other in excitement. They spoke through Evie once more. “And now, she comes. The mother who will carry our seed to the world. He told us of her. He told us we could spread our roots across all, and we desire to go.”
Gully stood now, looking up at the leaves, a mixture of awe and fear across her face. Fox stepped in front of her protectively. “And what would you reshape in this world of ours?” he asked, trying to keep the tree’s attention on him.
“He tells us of war and destruction,” it said through Evie’s voice. “The Lord Gilvard and the General Vol Tyrr are wise, they have seen outside the city walls. They tell us we can save the world.”
“They are lying to you,” said Fox firmly. “They don’t want to save it, they want your help to rule it.”
“We will overgrow their armies and swallow them whole! We will re-shape the earth around them until all bow before our caretaker!” It was with an almost protective grasp that the vines around Evie’s wrist began to stretch, covering even more of her arms now. The branches began to creep further from her eyes, and Evie shuddered in pain.
“Farran,” murmured Fox quietly. “If you can hear me, I think you should get down here. There’s something you should really see.”
It was only a moment before the pirate god appeared, and his arrival was met with a flurry of excitement from the tree. Every leaf began to quiver, and the lights of the fireflies began to dart to and fro as it squealed its delight through Evie. “You smell like home, brother! You smell like water!”
For the first time since Fox had met the pirate, Farran seemed entirely speechless. He took a few steps forward, reaching out a slow, tentative hand toward the tree. It was as though he were approaching a skittish horse, and he stopped just shy of touching the trunk. Then, as Fox and Gully watched in awe, a single tendril snaked down from the canopy and wrapped around Farran’s hand in greeting.
“Oh, my poor sister,” said Farran sadly. “What have they done to you?”
“This is a god?” asked Fox, shocked.
“I’m sorry,” said Gully, “he’s a god?! Fox, who is this?”
Farran did not look at them as he spoke, keeping his eyes instead on the magical vine curling its way affectionately through his fingers. “I apologize that there was never time for a proper introduction, Lady Gilvard. My name is Farran Arthelliad. I have been a long-time companion of young Fox, and, yes. I hail from divine realms beyond yours. And this,” he added, stroking the vine gingerly, “once lived there too. How it got lost, and so corrupted, I do not know.”
“Not lost,” insisted the plant. “Stolen. Hidden. Forgotten about. Got lonely, so I grew this city.�
�� It sounded almost proud as it added, “My city.”
“This city was built,” insisted Gully. “By my family, for generations.” To her credit, she seemed to have gotten over the shock of being faced with gods and divine plants rather quickly, and Fox grinned in spite of himself. Of course, the perfect woman for Neil would argue with an ancient and magical tree without batting an eye.
“I grew it,” repeated the plant. “Kept the earth healthy and made people want to come here. I grew rich plants and beautiful trees and flowers, and grew myself around the buildings the humans created. We shared. And people came from all over and told stories and made art, and wrote books, and I watched all of it.”
“If Calibas is the most important thing to you,” said Fox carefully, “why do you want to spread your seed? Why not just stay here, and protect it forever?”
“Because now there can be all cities like mine! And I can build forests of buildings and libraries and homes for the people.”
“So, they’ve taught you conquest,” said Farran.
There was a shudder and a gasp of pain as Evie spoke. It seemed to be growing harder and harder to think and talk as herself now, and her voice was almost frantic. “It is all I can do to keep it at bay, but ... I can’t much longer. It must ... not be allowed to spread. It means well, but it is too far gone from what it was. Poisoned by the greed of man.”
“But you’re its caretaker,” said Gully, rushing to kneel beside her friend once more. “It understands you. It respects you as its gardener.”
Evie turned her head, smiling weakly in the direction of Gully’s face. Fox wondered if her white eyes saw anything at all. “Even the best farmers can lose their crops to creeping ivy and stranglers. I just came to the field too late, is all.”
“There has to be something we can do,” said Gully. “Come with us. We’ll get you out of here. We will find a way to stop my brother and Vol Tyrr’s armies, before they can use this magic any further.”
“She can’t,” said Farran. He was no longer looking up at the massive tree’s canopy. His gaze instead turned downward, to the place where Evie’s back met the trunk. There was a mixture of defeat and true sorrow in his eyes as he spoke. “She can’t come with us.”
Gully followed the god’s eyes, and clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her scream. And Fox, stepping forward to see what they’d been so shaken by, knew at once that Farran was right. He could see it as he stepped to the side, at an angle he hadn’t been standing at before. Where there should have been a small gap between human and plant, there was none. Fresh bark was slowly spreading across the back of Evie’s dress, and her legs and hips were overgrown with tendrils and small branches.
Fiona Evergreen was not merely sitting at the base of the tree. She had grown into it.
Chapter Eighteen
Sisters
“There has to be a way to reverse it,” said Gully desperately. She was pacing the dungeon in frustration.
“Not according to these,” said Farran, thumbing through the stack of papers he had pulled from an inner pocket of his coat. His job had been to search Lord Gilvard’s study for any notes on his experiments. He had succeeded. Half of them Fox now held, and the pair were skimming their contents as quickly as they could. “From what I can tell,” said the pirate, “they’ve tried numerous times. They’re not sure what’s going to happen if they let it absorb her completely, but they can’t seem to stop it or slow it down.”
“It’s trying to protect her,” said Fox, looking over his own section of the notes. “No matter its new expansionist curiosities, this plant’s first instinct is always to protect what matters. Anything it thinks might be harmful to it, it defends against.”
“Easy instinct to turn to your advantage when you’re a mad aspirant warlord,” said Farran dryly. “Make it care about the troops. The general ...” He trailed off, looking sideways at Gully. “The mother.”
“Well I’m not one yet,” said Gully fiercely. She pulled a dagger from her bodice, brandishing it at the tree. “And Evie is not for you!” She leapt, brandishing the blade as though she meant to cut the gardner from the tree by force. And the tree responded immediately. There was a roar of sound as it creaked and moaned, leaves quaked violently on their branches, and thick winding limbs erupted from the ground, wrapping Fiona Evergreen in a cage of wood and vine.
Inside, Evie screamed, and the plant cried out with her voice. “You will not touch the gardener!” it shrieked. “She is ours! She is precious to us, and we will keep her safe!”
And then, the room began to fill with thick, green magic. The same that wove in and out of every inch of Calibas. Farran grabbed Gully by the arm and wrenched her back toward the stairs. “Time to go!” he shouted.
They could hear Evie struggling within her earthen bounds. Gully shrieked her rage, trying desperately to save her friend, and Farran scooped her up over his shoulder, carrying her up the stairs and out, with Fox hot on his heels. For a moment, however, Fox turned back to the gardener and the divine plant. Through the gaps in the viney shell, he could see Evie’s eyes. She was looking right at him, and for the first time since their descent into the dungeon, Fox felt sure that she saw him.
There was an unspoken understanding between them as green tears poured down the gardener’s face, streaming unchecked from her blank, white eyes. Fox did not know how he knew, but there was desperation in her empty gaze. She wanted them to stop it. The plant, Lord Gilvard, Vol Tyrr ... and she would hold it at bay as long as she could.
He nodded, and she closed her eyes, letting herself disappear completely into the tree.
∞∞∞
The entire palace was shaking. Tendrils and vines were beginning to creep out between stones, and roots occasionally erupted through the floor. Gully was running alongside them now, though she was loudly letting them know how furious she was, cursing at them through her tears.
“You can hate us later!” shouted Fox. “But we’ve got to get out. So quick, who can’t we leave behind?”
“My sister,” panted Gully. “And Norda, my lady-in-waiting. They’ll be together. I asked Norda to look after Wendy, just in case anyone means her harm.”
“Would they?” asked Fox, letting Gully take the lead, guiding them back to the living quarters. “Seems to me they’d want to keep her alive, as a noble-blooded backup in case you bolted.”
“More likely that they’d hold her hostage as collateral if I didn’t cooperate,” said Gully bitterly. She waved for them to halt, and herded them into a small parlor. “I’m going to go get them, but it’s easier to explain my being there than all three of us, should I get caught. Just ... just wait here, please. And don’t leave without us.”
She slipped out into the hallway again, closing the door behind her as another tremor shook the palace.
“We need a plan,” said Fox immediately, running his fingers through his hair anxiously. Now that he was out of the dungeon, his wind senses had returned, and he could feel the riots raging outside. He smelled the fires burning in two separate parts of the city, and heard the distant shouting of the general, trying to quell the chaos.
“There’s still the guards to contend with,” said Farrran. “Despite the upheaval, many of the Iron Order still stand watch at the city walls. We either have to trick our way past them, or take them over by force.”
“The Shavid,” said Fox, striding to the window and wriggling it open. “They’ve been in hiding, preparing for this. I know it’s earlier than we planned, and we haven’t coordinated, but —”
“Call to them,” Farran agreed. “Tell them to converge on the front gate. With enough of them, we may have a chance.”
Standing at the open window, Fox closed his eyes and reached out, whispering commands into the wind. He knew they would find their way to Radda and his players, as well as Darby and Bartrum. He could feel the amulet burning at his chest, and a matching ache in his fox-shaped scar, but he pressed on. There was no hiding from the Limbw
alker of Calibas now. All he could do was hope that Farran’s enchantment held, and that the tree and its magic could not actively hurt him.
The pirate god himself was sifting through Lord Gilvard’s notes again by the time Fox closed the parlor window. “Anything we can use?” asked Fox.
“There’s months of experiments and research in here,” said Farran. “It would take several weeks to comb through it all, I’m afraid. For now, I think we’ll have to go with our instincts.” And then, he stood up straighter, a roguish gleam in his eyes. “What are your orders, Captain Fox?”
A plan was beginning to grow in Fox’s mind. Human instinct and fear told him to simply run, to get out with no regard for the barriers in his way. But his years of trapper’s training, coupled with his new exposure to spycraft, told him something else entirely: the hunt was on. A grin spread across his face, and excitement flooded him all the way to his fingertips. Lord Gilvard and his mad dog Vol Tyrr would not be allowed to leave this city. Their war would not cross the walls of Calibas.
“Flood the ramparts,” he commanded Farran. “And drown the city streets. Let’s wash away the general’s filth.”
“At your signal,” said Farran. As the pirate saluted him and disappeared in a haze of ocean spray and tiny seashells, Fox sent out one last message to the Shavid, telling them to get everyone they could to higher ground. Let the Iron Order try and fight them now: the very elements were about to turn against them.
Gully returned with two women in tow. Her dark-skinned handmaiden Norda was leading the blind twelve-year-old Wendy carefully by the arm. All three looked shaken.
Inkspice (The Mapweaver Chronicles Book 2) Page 23