I attempted to bait it, calling it over to me, drawing its undivided attention. A bead of sweat dripped down my spine. Outmatched in speed, I had only my magic and wit as defense.
The tree scowled at me. I cocked my head, realizing it was a male dryad. “If we have trespassed, Dryad, please accept our apologies.” Its roots coiled beneath the ground as it sought to encircle me. Its body contorted as a tree-warrior took shape.
Odds are not in your favor, I thought.Not helpful. I subtly bounced on either foot, shifting my weight in anticipation of his next strike.
“I’m a hamadryad, protector of this sacred grove,” it sneered. Its bark sloughed off in tiny peels that swirled in the wind as it violently gestured to the group of trees we stood among. A spear-limb spiked downward, and I dove before it grazed my arm. It punctured the earth with enough force to create a hole that would have surely impaled me.
“Please, we are not here to harm. We’re trying to leave.” I hoped my gentle tone would calm the tree nymph’s ferocity. Instead, it glared, further incensed. The frightened girl moved behind it, edging away from its towering glower, her mop of curls snagging on wayward branches.
My distractions for the hamadryad were not enough, and his attention quickly landed on the retreating girl. Instinctively, I threw a water shield around her, creating an impenetrable wall. A spear slammed down upon it and the girl screamed, gripping her face as her eyes clenched shut. But the shield did not crack. The girl peeped an eye open, perplexed and relieved.
“Run!” I screamed. Her frantic gaze met mine before she tore through the forest, weaving through the trees. When she was thoroughly out of harm’s way, I would release the water barrier and turn it on myself. But until then, it was me and this very angry tree-titan.
Roots grabbed hold of my ankles, yanking them out from under me. My back slammed against the ground, air whooshing out of my lungs. I lay stunned for mere seconds, but it was enough for the dryad to stalk over, a small grin on his rough-hewn features.
I stilled, finding my center. I called to the water in the soil beneath me and the vapor in the air. But what could harm a tree? “Stop!” I yelled.
It paused, curiosity winning out over its rage. A veiled amusement glimmered across his features.
I sat up, and in that moment, another tree strode over. My shoulders slumped. I couldn’t stand against more than one dryad.
“She is under my charge. Release her.” The hamadryad scowled, rolling his seething eyes, but miraculously complied. The roots receded and the two trees communicated in a language I couldn’t decipher. There was huffing and the ground trembled beneath me, but in the end, the interceding tree motioned for me to stand and run away. So I did.
I traveled in the direction I had last seen the young girl, wildly searching for her. “Hello?” I yelled, cupping my hands around my mouth. I never got her name. How would I find her?
Several yards away, huddled against the earth, I discovered the elusive child seeking to cover herself with debris in a vain effort of camouflage. Around her, the soil and leaves lay damp with the remnants of my magicked barrier of water. I caught her eye and her scrambling stilled, arms dropping in relief.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“You saved me,” she responded, dazed. I offered a curt nod. Of course I would protect her, she was but a child, not that she could have known that. “Where is the dryad?” Her eyes darted around, searching for the lumbering beast.
“I think we are free of it for now. We need to leave these woods, though; it isn’t safe.”
Her shoulders relaxed, though she continued searching the forest.
“I’ve been lost in the woods before.” I kicked at some leaves as I moved closer to her, hoping to distract her from her fears. “When I was little, I used to make flower crowns to pass the time, until I found my way back home. Have you ever made one?”
Her eyes lit up. “I haven’t! Will you show me?” She scrambled to her feet.
I pulled down a vine that had laced itself up a tree trunk. I flinched when I cut the main stalk, unsure whether it would shout at me. I had no idea what was alive among the trees. “Watch me.” I began to braid strands of the vine together. It had been years since I last did this, but the action came back easily, my muscle memory taking over.
I found some small yellow flowers poking out from beneath fallen leaves. “Gather some of those, but leave plenty of stem.” I pointed.
She bent over and picked several flowers. “My name’s Korin. Thank you for helping me.” She stood, smiling, dropping the flowers in my palm.
I weaved them into the crown before placing it on her head. The saffron petals stood out against her dark hair. I braided a few of her own strands among the crown to keep it secure. I stepped back in shrewd assessment. She twirled for me, beaming. “Now you’re a proper Wilderess. A lady of the wilds.”
Her stomach interrupted our charade with a growling protest. “When I get back to Lyrae, I’m going to get the biggest plate of roasted rabbit, with fresh bread. And maybe even a chocolate tart!” She devolved into “mmms” and giggles.
The last of her trepidation disappeared and we began walking toward what I believed to be the direction of Lyrae. Darkness had crept upon us. The sun seemed to have set quicker in these woods than they did in Haluma. I strained to see within the increasing shadows.
A breeze tousled my hair, and Korin startled beside me. “Thank you for your kindness,” she rushed out.
Her curly hair grazed her shoulders, a few strands getting stuck in her mouth from the same errant breeze. “Maybe youcan teach me more about flower crowns. I’d love to learn how to braid—” Her words stalled as she peered beyond me.
I turned in the direction of her gaze as a man emerged from the shadows, stalking toward us. I covertly palmed my dagger while reaching for Korin, pulling her closer to me and away from the potential danger. Another dryad? I steeled myself at the oncoming threat. My iced longsword extended from my other hand, tiny crystal shards spraying into the darkness like flecks of stardust.
“Korin.” The man’s voice was iron and velvet, his gaze hard as flint. I barely made out his form in the shadows that engulfed us. But I recognized the swirling darkness, and the large man within them. My longsword dissolved into harmless drops.
