By the Fae, we had made it quite a way up.
If we fell here, we were dead.
Queen Mikko peeked around the corner of the tree. “I’m getting ready to go again.”
The rest of us nodded. Blood stained us everywhere.
We were ready to face it once more. We braced for it.
A deep voice asked, “Are you sure you want to do that?”
The six of us froze in place.
Our heads turned first, and then our bodies followed.
We faced the tree. And the tree had a face.
Black bark curved with a smirking mouth. A knot on the tree was its broken nose. The black bark swirled with sunken, yellow sap eyes. Two miniature tree limbs were the bouncing eyebrows on a decidedly arrogant face. Black shadow leaves sloped down from a long hanging branch, its hair where it hung over part of its left eye.
I sucked in a sharp breath. This was…unexpected.
A little frightening, but even more exciting.
Atreewastalkingto us!
Silent ticks of time passed by in our shock.
Tree Man asked again, “Are you sure you want to climb this mountain?”
Father lifted his bloodstained chin high. “Yes. We are sure.”
The black leaves shook side to side. “I do not think that is a wise decision. You have already hurt yourselves. You should turn back.”
King Athon crossed his arms over his torn shirt, red blood smeared all over it. “We know we will be hurt, but we are going up the mountain.”
“What if you die?” Tree Man questioned, the sap narrowing in his eyes. “What would that accomplish?”
“We don’t plan to die,” Queen Alora coughed into her bleeding fist. “We will survive.”
Tree Man chuckled quietly. “You remind me of my son. He is just as foolhardy as you are.”
Queen Mikko stepped toward the tree with clenched fists. “We are going up the mountain. Are you planning to try to stop us?”
“Oh, no. I will not stop you.” Yellow sap eyes swiveled to me. “And what of you? Are you as reckless as the rest of them?”
“Apparently so. I will be going up the mountain along with them,” I stated and shrugged one shoulder. “We will survive it together as we have been doing so far. I am not worried.”
Tree Man’s limb-eyebrows wiggled. He glanced at each one of us with quiet consideration. He said, “I must admit, it did not take you six as long as my brothers and I had bet on. I have lost a year of sparrows because of this. I’m not entirely sure I wish to help now.”
King Traevon took two steps forward, standing with the toe of his boots against its trunk. “Help us? What did you have in mind?”
“What I wait here every day for.”
“And what is that?” Father pushed.
“I do as my Fae creator shaped me for. I judge those who stand before me, and I take passengers to the top of the mountain,” Tree Man explained severely. “To those who are worthy. And only those who are worthy. You will not make it without my assistance. That is what I am here for, as are my brothers around us.”
“Are we worthy?” I asked softly. “Do you believe we are?”
