“Orion Nightbane hugging,” Draven says, a sly grin full of teasing on his mouth as he shakes his head at the Unseelie King. “Now, I have truly seen it all.”
“Watch it, brooding beast,” Orion warns as he narrows his eye at Draven.
Draven’s golden eyes glint as he cocks his head. “Or what, preening princeling?”
For a few seconds, they just stare each other down like that. Then both of them let out a synchronized chuckle.
Shaking my head, I draw a hand through my hair as the two very unlikely friends exchange a knowing grin.
A short distance from us, the two dryads are speaking softly with each other. The Soul of Trees floats above the Mother Dryad’s shoulder, casting golden light over her rippling hair and dress, and the other hundreds of smaller orbs pulse gently where they bob in the air around us. It adds a gilded hue to the light from the swiftly rising sun.
“Our people are waiting,” the Dryad Queen says. The red flowers that grow like a crown around her head look even more vibrant in the glowing light as she and the Mother Dryad turn to face us. “So the time has now come for us to leave as well.”
We all turn towards them as they move a little closer to us.
“Where will you go?” Lyra asks, looking almost sad that they’re leaving.
The two ancient beings come to a halt in front of us. Their brown eyes glitter in the golden light as they meet our gazes and smile. Power thrums around them, and with the glowing spheres spreading out on both sides of them like a veil of golden light, it feels as if I am looking at divinity itself. Maybe I am.
All this time, I have believed that this world has only four divine beings. Azaroth, the dragon shifter god. The two fae deities: Mabona and Malachi. And the human god, who they just call Father Almighty. But now I’m starting to wonder if theremight actually be more than that. After all, if the dryads are older than our gods, what does that make them?
“Home,” the Dryad Queen replies, light shining in her eyes. “Thanks to your sacrifices and efforts in bringing down the Iceheart Dynasty, we no longer need to hide underground. Now, at last, it is time for us to return to this world’s forests.”
“Will we ever see you again?” I ask.
“Of course. But even if you don’t see us, we are always there.” She smiles. “Whenever you wander through the woods, and you hear the trees whisper in the wind, know that we are there, guarding our world.”
Warmth flows through me, and I feel a deep sense of comfort knowing that the dryads will always be here, protecting this messy but beautiful world that we now all share.
A twinkle appears in the Mother Dryad’s eyes, and she glances down at the Dryad Queen before she adds, “We might even plant some new trees in the Silver Clan’s homeland. There was a forest there long before the Icehearts drew their first breaths. There should be one there again. One that remains long after Bane and Jessina’s names have been forgotten by history.”
“Are they…?” I begin, not sure how to finish the question.
The Dryad Queen’s eyes glint, and her smile sharpens. “Exactly where I told them they would be.”
Barred from every afterlife and forever lost in empty darkness.
A shiver rolls down my spine, and I once again thank Mabona that the dryads are on our side. Because yes, I think I was right before. These beings are the primal gods of our world.
“However, before we leave, we have one more debt to repay,” the Dryad Queen says.
Next to her, the Mother Dryad gracefully raises a hand and holds it there, palm up. One of the small golden spheres breaks away from the rest of the cloud and floats towards her. It bobs slightly as it comes to a halt above her open palm.
“Orion Nightbane,” the Dryad Queen says, and beckons him forward. “Come forth.”
Surprise flits across Orion’s face, but he hides it quickly as he approaches her. She says nothing. Only watches him. Instead, it is the Mother Dryad who begins speaking.
“I cannot raise the dead,” she says, her voice thrumming with ancient power. “But as the Mother Dryad, I possess the power of life. A power that should not be used lightly. However, what you have done justifies this one small exception. So in repayment of a debt greater than this world, I will gift you something that has never been gifted another race before.”
The small golden orb pulses in the Mother Dryad’s palm as she moves her hand towards Orion. He draws in a sharp breath and jerks back slightly as she suddenly removes his eyepatch. But she just calmly presses her palm, with the glowing orbs still in it, straight over his empty eye socket.
Golden light pulses from underneath her hand.
Orion gasps.
Then the Mother Dryad removes her palm.
My jaw drops.
