Most of them stared at Bryce as they passed by, just as gobsmacked to be seeing him as he was seeing them. A few waved at him, and he waved back. Most just watched him distrustfully, whispering amongst themselves in their strange language.
“Don’t they get bored?” he asked as he watched several tweens pass a piece of fruit around, like a stationary game of Catch. “They can’t go anywhere.”
“They have no need to go anywhere,” Willow said easily. “They know only a stationary life. They are surrounded by their sisters, by their mothers, entirely immersed in the root system. There is much to learn and much to share. For them, there is no need for anything else.”
“Until they hear the calling,” Bryce said, and Willow nodded.
“Yes, then the itch starts.”
A guttural cry echoed on the breeze, cutting off whatever Bryce would have said in response. Willow turned abruptly, releasing a worried whistling sound, like high winds blowing through the slim crack of a window. Another scream followed, and Willow immediately broke into a light jog.
Bryce and Zef exchanged an unsure look before they followed her. A group of Dryads gathered ahead of them, and Willow stopped several yards away, lifting a hand to bring Bryce and Zef to a halt as well.
“I must leave you now,” she said, lilting voice tighter than before. “You may watch, but you must not interfere. Do you understand?”
It was meant for them both, but she was looking at Bryce. So he was the one to respond. “Of course. We can go if—”
“As long as you remain quiet and watch from afar, you don’t have to leave,” she interrupted, already backing toward the growing group of Dryads. “This is a very important moment, and it must not be interrupted.”
“We shall remain here,” Zef said firmly, and this must have been enough to alleviate her worries. She turned and rushed to join the throng.
“An uprooting?” Bryce asked in a whisper.
“Yes,” Zef said, just as quietly. “It will be intense, and at times, difficult to watch. If you would like to leave at any time, I will accompany you back to the gates. Willow will understand.”
Bryce inched closer to Zef, dropping his volume even more. “Have you seen this before?”
“Only once. A film in school, but never in person,” they whispered back.
To be honest, there wasn’t much to actually see, given the crowd of Dryads encircling the sapling that was uprooting. But as the Dryads shifted, Bryce caught sight of a tall, thin Dryad with short, leafy hair. Her bark was lighter, like an aspen tree, and her leaves were golden yellow.
She gripped the arms of an elder Dryad as she swayed and twisted in place, her face screwed up in pain. Like birth, Willow had said. And, yes, Bryce understood what she meant. This girl wasn’t birthing a child, ofcourse, but the struggle was the same. A pushing and pulling as she fought to free herself from the earth.
She screamed, and the Dryads surrounding her screamed with her. Like they shared her pain, they wailed with her, wept with her, until it was nearly a feedback loop, passing the agony back and forth. Even the saplings planted closest to her were crying.
“They share the burden,” Zef whispered, head inclined until their cool breath fanned over Bryce’s ear. “It is a pain they remember, a pain the others still rooted feel through the system. They feel it together, so the sapling knows she is not alone. To remind her she is strong enough to do what is necessary.”
From the cries of pain grew a hum, something that was probably words, though Bryce would never know for sure. The hum grew to a buzz, then the buzz into a roar. Like a storm.
The girl’s agonized expression shifted to something fierce and determined, and she started to scream again. Not in pain this time, but a war cry. The other Dryads picked up the shift as well, and they were roaring together, shrieking like Valkyrie into the sky.
“Holy shit,” Bryce said, grabbing Zef’s coat sleeve as goosebumps exploded over his skin and the hairs on his arms stood on end. It was terrifying and exhilarating and wondrous.
He didn’t know how much time passed as the Dryads roared their storm, but at long last, with one last guttural cry, the girl’s rooted stumps ripped from the ground, and she stumbled forward on shaky legs, like a newborn foal. She collapsed into the waiting arms of the Dryads, and Bryce lost sight of her.
She was surrounded, her sisters converging until they were a mass of wooden limbs and leafy branches. They were all crying, swaying back andforth like they were rocking a child. The roaring wind of their voices settling into a calmer breeze, comforting and gentle.
Bryce gasped, blinking through the burn in his eyes. He didn’t know when he’d started crying, but the hot tears cooled quickly on his cheeks, leaving icy trails behind. His chest heaved, each breath cloudy in front of his mouth.
“Are you alright?” Zef asked quietly in his ear, and he nodded.
“Yeah, I…” He sniffed and blinked rapidly to clear his vision. “Yeah, that was just… intense.”
“Yes,” they agreed, voice a little shaken.
“She was so strong.”
“She was.”
