“But he meant it differently. Didn’t he?” I asked. I stroked my hand over vines hanging from the next tree, unsurprised when mytouch alone caused them to flare into brilliant green light, nearly blinding me.
“My father believes it is our job to save the Imperium from itself. He says that what our nation has done to these children is not just.” Her voice dropped to near silence before she swallowed and spoke again. “He says that if we were set this task—by the emperor or the animalia—it is one we can succeed in.”
She stopped at one of the trees, turning to face me as I finished crossing the bridge. Her gaze was fierce, as sharp as one of my blades. Staring at Naî on my shoulder, she lurched forward, fingers extended before she pulled back, fisting her hand.
“And what task did the animalia set for you?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even although I could feel my frustration crawling up my throat like acid. Had she lied about not knowing Spider’s location?
“Please, you must understand.” Lady Chaliko turned, her hand touching the wall of one of the houses. Inside, I could see a small elven face that ducked out of the window at my scrutiny. The houses were beautiful, and I wondered what the elven villages had looked like before the Imperium burned them. “When we first came to this land, my father was a broken man. He understood that the people he had fought so hard to save, the children that had survived the Blood Mountains, were dead, and I…” She looked down, pausing and biting her lip. “I was ashamed of him. I was a child, and I felt he had betrayed me. We had lost everything because of him.”
She began walking again, stopping at the largest tree we had passed and tapping once on the trunk. Stairs formed on the side of the tree, and she walked down them. Slowly, I followed her. I could feel eyes on me; they had been trailing us through the forest. I had no doubt that if I had done anything, attacked any of the children hiding in their houses, I would have been shot full of arrows before I could do any damage.
At the bottom of the stairs, we were in a small clearing that hadbeen hidden by the trees. In the center of the clearing was a building made of glass, just like Terror had said.
It was enormous, large enough that Naî could stand full-sized and touch one side with her nose and the other with her tail. There were bright, sparkling lights adorning the exterior and fluorescent vines from the swamp crawling up the sides of the building; all of that illumination made it impossible to see what was inside.
“I knew I must show you this. As soon as we saw what you did at the one-month celebration.” Lady Chaliko made a soft gesture of appeal, the motion of her hand similar to how one would beg from an older sibling, or how Nohe would ask me to be reasonable and let myself be dressed like a doll.
“Show me what?” I asked. I could feel Iradîo, hear the hoot of her owls in the trees. At least she was safe.
She turned, walking forward and holding open the door of the building. It creaked on its hinges, the humidity of the swamp having already rusted the metal. There were so many questions, but as I stepped forward at her invitation, I asked only the obvious one.
“Where did you get all this glass?” I gestured. “The greenhouse must have cost a fortune.”
“The Pirate King does business with the Ariphadi desert tribes.” Lady Chaliko pursed her lips before shaking her head, as though realizing that she couldn’t keep anything out, not if she hoped to earn my trust. “The Pirate King also answers to the animalia.”
I stepped inside, frowning at what I saw. “What are you growing, Lady Chaliko?”
Rows of plants covered the entire length of the building, the tables so massive that the legs were nearly as thick as my own. But none of the plants looked fully developed. I expected to see imperial rarities, flowers or fruits only grown in the Imperium.
Instead, rows and rows of seedlings sprouted, the worn pots marked with chalk numbers.
Fireflies danced between the plants, briefly lighting up the leaves of one or the trunk of another. Toward the back, nearest the windows, I saw larger trees, although none looked more than a year old, the saplings barely as high as my chest in their tall pots.
“Interesting.” Naî sounded delighted, which automatically gave me pause. She leapt forward, capturing one of the fireflies in her mouth. Lady Chaliko gave an aborted scream, and Naî tsked before stepping toward me and spitting the creature out at my feet. Up close, I saw it was no firefly. It was adragon.
Its wings were crumpled, and it struggled to its feet, trying to flee the much larger Naî. It seemed it couldn’t fly when its wings were dampened with Naî’s spit. It was the length of my forefinger, its scales the same brown as the bark of the trees, with green moss growing between its scales just as tufts of snowy fur grew between Naî’s.
It glared up at me when I crouched down, reaching out my hand to touch it. Hissing, it snapped at me.
“I am so sorry for the offense,” I said, lifting the creature up and off the ground. It nipped at my thumb, drawing blood.
Lady Chaliko approached, offering her hand, and I yielded the creature to her. Gently, she placed her hand close, her fingers brushing mine as the creature struggled between our palms.
The small dragon had still not spoken to me, but from the way Lady Chaliko tilted her head, listening, it was clear it was speaking to her.
“Apologize,” I directed Naî.
“Apologize to this insect?” Naî sounded genuinely offended, glaring at me, her lips pulled back from her sharp teeth. “This is no more a dragon than you are.”
“Theyaredragons,” Lady Chaliko said. “When we first took over the school, there was a caretaker on the grounds. Previous administrators had cut the tendrils from her body. One had blinded her. Another had taken two of her fingers. Butstill she remained.”
I imagined an old woman, partially blind, missing the tendrils that were as much a part of her as her arms or legs.
“She was protecting something,” I said.
Lady Chaliko nodded. “My father showed her mercy. He gave her food and a place to live and demanded no labor from her. He begged her to tell the children the stories of her people as she remembered them. It took several years. Long enough that she had told some of the children the entire history of the elven people twice over before she trusted us enough to show us why she stayed.” Lady Chaliko opened her hand, gesturing of the room around us. “Thisis where the last of the elder trees fell.”
She looked down at the ground, and what I had taken for a wooden floor began to glow softly. Rings formed under our feet. Enormous curves marked the ground beneath us, glowing a pale blue that faded to nearly green.
