With that, she starts to submerge. Tendrils emerge from her body; vine-like, root-like, extending toward the ground, penetrating the shifting earth.
She takes Ansar with her. He can suffocate under there for all I care.
“Goodbye for now, Corvan. You have my eternal thanks.”
All of a sudden, she’s gone, leaving me standing in a room of serpenstone and mangled iron, and above me, the castle is shaking, as if struck by an earthquake.
The curse of the necromancer is gone, swallowed by life itself.
All that remains is that terrible serpenstone cave, where Aralya suffered so much. I can feel its oppressive presence even now; it spills out from the open doorway like a toxic miasma.
I can’t wait to be out of here.
I take off like the wind, surging up the stairwells, speeding through the corridors, higher and higher until I’m back in the main castle, and I don’t really care that branches and vines are shooting through the halls of Deignar Castle, wrapping around anything and everything, and Rhaegar and Leticia Talavarra are nowhere to be seen.
I resist the temptation to hunt them down.
Aralya said she would deal with them, and that’s her revenge to take.
She deserves it more than I, and I have no doubt she’ll deal swift justice to all that have harmed her and her child.
A vengeful dryad is loose in my empire, and I don’t care.
Right now, all I want to do is return to Finley.
63
FINLEY
I’ve turned into a monster, and I can’t undo it.
I can’t believe this is happening.
These things have grown from my hands. Branches and roots, twisting and knotting together to form a massive tree trunk that’s so big it would take a dozen men to encircle it with their arms fully extended.
I’m attached to the damn thing. My outstretched arms have turned into branches that are joined to the whole. My back is against the mass of the trunk. It’s grown out of the inner garden, upwards and upwards, reaching higher than the buildings; higher than the rooftops, soaring over the Imperial Palace itself.
I can see everything from up here. The pale greenish-grey roof tiles of the palace. The ponds and manicured gardens. Spires and rooftops; walls, statues, courtyards…
People scurrying about.
Some notice. They look up in astonishment and fear. I don’t think they can see me—it’s still dark, after all—but they would see the shadow of this massive tree, blocking out the stars and the moon in the night sky.
Eventually, when the sun comes up, they will see me.
What am I supposed to do then?
All I can think is that Corvan had better hurry up and get his beautiful ass back here.
Corvan, I hope you’re safe. Come back to me soon.
I’m consumed with dread and worry. The not knowing aspect of it is pure torture.
But it’s Corvan. He’s the most capable and formidable person I know.
I just have to believe he’ll be fine.
And…
My chest tightens with hope.
“My lady!” A deep, slightly strained voice reaches me from below. I look down and see Tarron, surrounded by his men—all heavily armed and looking terribly nonplussed. “What…?”
He shakes his head in disbelief. I get the feeling it’s very rare for the Commander of the Imperial Elite Guard to be rendered speechless like this.
There are at least half a dozen men down there; big, burly, armed to the teeth, and staring up at me in the darkness as if they’ve just seen a ghost.
I sigh. “Tarron, I am fine. This is but a… temporary situation.” I hope. “When Corvan returns, he’ll know what to do. Until then, I’ll just have to wait up here.”
It isn’t so bad. A slight breeze is blowing, but I don’t feel cold. The tree has wrapped itself around me, and it exudes gentle warmth.
“Er, right. Ordinarily, I’d go seek out someone from the Magical Research Tower to try and help us make sense of this, but His Highness has ordered us to keep the situation here contained until he returns. Tell you what…” he glances at the guard closest to him, a small, wiry man with long golden hair tied in a ponytail. “Rhylin here is pretty good at climbing. I’ll get him to go up there with an axe and cut you down.”
Rhylin looks askance at his commander. “Me?”
“You’re the lunatic that scaled Hindra’s Peak. Go on, then.”
“A mountain’s a bit different to a bloody tree, isn’t it?”
“You’re not cutting me down,” I cry, suddenly fearing they might do something rash. It probably isn’t a good idea to try and hack at a tree that’s crushed two undead bodies in its writhing branches. “For now, just leave me be. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. The tree isn’t out to harm me. It’s of me.”
Tarron’s bearded face is illuminated by the soft light from the inside. “I’d tell you stranger things have happened, but I’d be lying. Can we at least get you something? Must be cold up there. You need a shawl? Something to eat or drink?”
“No,” I call, raising my voice as the wind picks up. The tree has formed a protective little cove of branches around me. The wind doesn’t touch me. I can see the glittering lights of Lukiria, and the faintest blush of dawn on the horizon. “I thank you for your concern, but I’m fine, Tarron.”
“My lady.” He drops to one knee and lowers his head. “Please accept my apology.”
“Whatever for?”
“We failed to protect you. The undead should never have been able to reach you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Tarron. How was anyone supposed to predict that would happen? Your men did their very best. Kharuk is…” I remember seeing him get carried away, his armor pierced through in the chest area, a small trickle of blood coming from the wound.
But he was alive. I saw his eyes, open and filled with awe.
“He’s alive,” Tarron says solemnly. “The tree—your tree—did something to him. Staunched the bleeding with little fines. He’s with the physicians as we speak. They reckon he’ll live.”
Relief surges through me. “When he’s well enough to talk, please convey my gratitude. He risked his life to protect me. I wish him a speedy recovery, and I’ll go and visit him myself… er, when I can.” I try to move my arms, but the tree simply tightens its grip on me—as if I’m a precious object that it doesn’t want to ever let go.
“I reckon he’d appreciate that. Just don’t stay up there too long, all right? I don’t want His Highness to tear me a new one because his betrothed has gotten stuck in a giant tree.”
I laugh; I can’t help it. The ridiculousness of it all is just too much. “You have nothing to worry about. Corvan won’t be mad. He’s seen worse.”
The faint blush on the horizon turns into a warm orange glow.
The sun is rising in the east.
My body is tingling all over, filled with wild, dancing energy.
I feel like I could lift the entire world.
Soon, the whole world is going to see me; an anomaly, an oddity, an baron’s daughter from Ruen—unladylike and outspoken—who fell into the arms of a vampire prince and found out she was a daughter of the Dryadae line.
And together, we grew… and became entwined.
What will they make of me—of us?