Axe!
The weapon forms in an instant and I hack at the nearest woody rope, angling the blade so I don’t cut myself in the process.
The thread snaps, but another takes its place, this one a bough from above me that splits into multiple strands, each one snapping at my limbs, attempting to wrap around them, the ooze coating them feeling like sticky tar.
I slice through each new woody thread as fast as I can, horribly aware that if they wrap around my arms and legs at the same time, they could tear my limbs from my torso.
The air around me is now filled with ribbons of darkness, all of them extending from the tree’s trunk. All of them closing in around me.
Panic sets in.
Through the haze of fear, I’m conscious of Erik fighting the bear, aware of blood running down his face and chest. Conscious that he’s shouting my name.
Black ooze drips down onto my hair and body, sticking to me as I thrash and reach for the dragon-imprinted medallion, preparing for the fury I’ll feel in it. A spiraling, crimson ribbon smacks it out of my hand, propelling it through a closing gap between black threads.
In the next instant, my axe is wrenched from me. Then thrown beyond me.
Ropes are now wrapped around my torso, stomach, and legs, not pulling outward like I feared, but pressing inward.
It feels like they’re forming a cocoon around me. A cage.
The same kind that enclosed Milena.
At the corner of my eye, I’m suddenly aware of a red apple morphing into the shape of a stinger. It darts from side to side, following my thrashing movements as if it’s preparing to strike.
It dawns on me then that this tree isn’t trying to rip me apart.
It’s trying to spin a web of woody threads around me, the same way a spider binds its prey in a cocoon before it bites and injects its poison.
I scream and seek the fury in the medallion on my hand, my ears filled by my own pounding heartbeats.
I have to be able to use my power.
Ithasto work.
My left hand slides against the side of the cocoon already partially formed around me, but once again, the flow of power only sends more energy through the tree, the strength in the cage around me increasing.
The more anger and rage I feed into it, the angrier and more malicious it grows.
But if that’s the case…
As the stinger strikes toward me, I close my eyes, exhale, and dig deep, seeking another emotion and letting it rise within me.
Peace.
Energy sparks within my palm, so strong that it’s a burst of light behind my closed eyelids.
Beauty.
Like blue leaves and clear water and the color of Erik’s eyes.
Calm.
Like slow footsteps and a gentle breeze and the soothing brush of fingertips across my back.
Happiness.
The hint of a smile, the warmth of a hug, a kind word.
