The dryads stepped back from the bars in one motion. For the first time. Xavier saw them acting as a cohesive group. Fear bonded them together.
“Are you planning to drain us, Mage? Use our blood for one of your twisted rituals,” Talula sneered.
“I’m going to dig up your Grove and take its treasures.”
Her sharp laughter cut Xavier with its scorn. “You’ll get nothing.”
“Oh, won’t I?” Melcori’s wicked grin promised nothing good.
“You’d have to gain our cooperation to be granted any of our jewels,” Talula spat.
“Correction. I only need one of you to cooperate, and I have that. I have a contract and everything.“ If Melcori were closer, she would’ve punched him when she lunged, fist out.
The spelled protections on the cell threw her back. Her head made a horrifying crunch when it met the ground. She shook it off and returned to her feet, her eyes blazing in fury.
Melcori sighed. “You’ll be quite addled if you keep that up.” He turned his attention to the remaining dryads. Before he could speak, she was back before him.
She had an impressive sneer for someone with unfocused eyes. “Who gave you permission into our Grove? Who has betrayed us?” she hissed. “And where is my son? I will gut you if I find him injured.”
Xavier could feel dryad magic pulsing from the leader. It prickled along his skin like summer nettles and thorny roses. He could only guess, by Melcori’s smug expression, that the magic on the bars kept back the worst of it.
“I’ll never tell.” He pointedly stared at a black-haired woman in the corner.
Multiple gasps rang out as the dryads followed his gaze.
“Octavia, you gave him permission?” Talula’s voice took on a screeching edge, and her eyes narrowed like a hawk spotting prey.
Did nature magic allow them to shapeshift? Maybe he needed to hunt down other books on dryads, especially if he would help raise one.
Octavia’s eyes widened with fear as she backed away from the approaching group. Had it never occurred to her that the others might take offense at her behavior?
Idiot.
“Why would you tell them?” Octavia snarled at Melcori.
“I didn’t say a word,” he protested. “It’s not my fault you sold out your people so you could take over. Hiding the truth from the others wasn’t part of our deal.”
“But I helped you!”
“Yes, you did. Thank you for that.”
“You said I would be the new leader!” Octavia raged.
“I promised to clear the Grove so you can try to lead them. Ancient laws prevent me from directly involving myself in dryad politics. You would know that if you read your contract.”
Melcori’s smug smile was going to get him punched soon. Xavier hoped he didn’t miss it.
“I’ll deal with you later,” Talula said to a shaking Octavia, before returning her attention to Melcori. “You said you learned something that affects us.”
“Now you're willing to listen?”
She crossed her arms. “It’s not like I have a choice.”
Melcori waved a hand. “Xavier, you have the floor.”
Xavier froze when all eyes turned to him. He shook off his temporary paralysis. “We’ve learned that male dryads are Green Men. You’ll need Rance to grow your Grove.”
“No!” Octavia’s eyes rolled wildly like a spooked horse. “No! Male dryads are an evil abomination! He must be killed! You are wrong! There is no way they are meant to create anything! They are destroyers!” Her volume grew louder as she continued to rant and pace the cell. Digging her fingers into her hair, she brutally tugged at the long strands, and her voice dropped to an almost whispered chant that Xavier could no longer hear.
