Through her bond, Tamsin sent a quiet pulse of agreement.“You see it, too.”
“Yes,”she answered silently.“He’s frayed.”
Rezer tilted his head, watching them with unsettling perceptiveness.“If you’re here because of the trees, good luck.They’re restless.More than usual.”
Tamsin stepped forward.“Restless how?”
Rezer shrugged one shoulder.“You’re the Forest Lords’ favorites.You tell me.”
Before they could press further, he stepped back toward the door.“I’ve got somewhere to be.And Syndra, do try to give me and Lisa some quality alone time.How am I supposed to court her with you sticking your royal nose in every chance you get?”
“Maybe she doesn’t want any alone time with you,” she shot back.
“Her reaction to me proves otherwise,” he said, softer, his gaze intense.“It seems she hasn’t lost her taste for the dark side.”
Then the door shut behind him, silent, seamless, and the clearing felt abruptly, achingly empty.
For a moment they just stood there, the forest breathing around them.
Oakley exhaled hard.“I don’t like that guy.”
Syndra patted his arm.“Few do.”
“But he talks about my mom like,” Oakley grimaced.“Like she’s dessert.”
Tamsin coughed lightly.It was the closest he came to a laugh.“Dark elves do nothing subtly.”
Syndra didn’t smile.Not this time.That flicker she’d seen beneath Rezer’s calm still clawed at her thoughts.
Before she could dwell on it, the ground thrummed beneath them.
The trees shivered, leaves trembling as if stirred by a wind they couldn’t feel.Bark rippled faintly, and an ancient whisper rose through the roots, deep and resonant.“Queen and King, children of crown and soil.You walk the edge of imbalance.”
Syndra froze.It had been years since the trees last spoke in an audible way.
Tamsin stepped closer, protective instinct sharp.“What imbalance?”
The old ash bent slightly, leaves brushing toward them.“Magic strains.The land remembers what you have forgotten.”
Oakley swallowed, his voice trembling just a bit.“Okay, I got bits and pieces of that.Fill me in, please?What does it mean?”
“It means,”the tree murmured, voice old and tired, “that something long sealed stirs again.And its whisper reaches the ones between realms.”
“Thank you for letting me in on the full conversation that time,” Oakley said, his face slightly ashen.
Syndra’s stomach dropped.Rezer, she thought.But she didn’t dare say it.Not until she knew more.
The tree fell silent.The air chilled.And when the last tremor faded through the roots, Syndra straightened, breath steady.
“We keep going,” she said.“Maybe the forest will tell us more.We listen.And then we report to Trik.”
Tamsin nodded.Oakley followed, though unease simmered in his eyes.
As they left the clearing, Syndra looked back only once.
The house sat quiet against the hillside ...but she swore the shadows under its eaves shifted, as if something inside was breathing in two worlds at once.
* * *
