“Everything about me is new. Yesterday I made a flower sing. Today I’m having philosophical discussions with oaks. Tomorrow I’ll probably photosynthesize.”
“Don’t joke about that,” Peeble said seriously. “Photosynthesis is actually really likely at this point.”
“That’s not funny,” Kaelren said.
“It’s a little funny.”
“No, really, it’s not,” Peeble insisted. “I’ve seen it happen. It’s weird. You turn slightly green in direct sunlight. Very disconcerting.”
“Your transformation is accelerating beyond what we anticipated,” Kaelren said, voice tense.
“Again, little bit funny if you think about—”
He grabbed my arm, and I felt his corruption pulse against my marks. It should have hurt, but instead it felt like… balance. Like two halves of something wrong trying to make something right.
“Ooh, that’s new,” Peeble observed. “The marks are doing a thing. A balancey thing. Is that supposed to happen?”
“This isn’t a joke,” Kaelren said, silver eyes boring into mine. “You’re losing yourself faster than we expected. Days ago you could barely control a single flower. Now you’re communicating with ancient trees across miles. That’s not normal progression.”
“Or finding myself,” I countered, pulling free. “Did you see what I just did? I ended a fight without killing anyone. Well, Gerald might have killed someone if they hadn’t run, but that’s on Gerald.”
“Gerald would have been justified,” Peeble said loyally. “They pissed on his roots.”
“You’re anthropomorphizing plants.”
“I’m communicating with them. There’s a difference.”
“Not much of one at this point,” Peeble muttered.
“Is there?” Kaelren challenged.
Before I could answer, Nimor materialized fully. “We have a bigger problem. The Crown patrol we just faced? They were herding us.”
“Herding us where?” Vashael asked.
“Toward a larger force. There are three full patrols converging on this position.”
“How many?” Kaelren demanded.
“Over a hundred. Maybe more.”
Silence fell over the group.
“Well, shit,” Peeble said quietly.
“Gerald says there’s another option,” I said quietly. “But you’re not going to like it.”
“If Gerald suggests it, it’s probably insane,” Peeble said. “Gerald has terrible judgment. Remember when he suggested you eat that glowing mushroom?”
“That wasn’t Gerald, that was you.”
“Was it? Memory’s fuzzy. Point stands.”
“The tree has military advice now?” Kaelren’s voice dripped sarcasm.
“Not Gerald. The forest itself.” I could feel it, vast and patient and… amused? “There’s a place. Old. Protected. The Crown literally can’t enter it.”
“Oh no,” Peeble said. “Oh no, no, no. I know what you’re sensing.”
