“Oh, fuck this!” Aspen yelled, then jetted forward, lunged to the floor, and slid on her hip beneath the wraiths.
Another howl launched up my throat as she emerged on the opposite end. Her axe battered the squall from the other side, widening a gap for me and Nicu to spill from.
“West!” I shouted to Aspen, then to Nicu, “Grab your mount! Follow him!”
Racing to his palfrey, Nicu seized the reins. The leaves spared our horses, who galloped alongside us at a manageable pace. Sensing my trajectory, they shot past the creepers and retreated into a grove where monolithic trees towered into the sky, their bases hollowed out.
I sprinted quicker. “Inside!”
The wraiths sailed between us, deviating the warhorse who powered in Nicu’s direction. Aspen pumped her limbs and dove into one of the trunks, a crimson silhouette flashing by before I barreled inside. As we crashed inside the tree’s womb, the threshold convulsed, roots punching upward from the soil and dislodging chunks. Plaiting together, they crowded the opening, light dimming as they sealed us inside.
As swiftly as it had begun, the attack ceased. Outside, the leaf-strewn wraiths audibly disintegrated to the forest floor with a clatter.
Panting, Aspen crumbled against the facade. Beside her, my weight struck the earth hard. Then I blinked, a shriek punching from my mouth. Aspen gasped, realizing the same thing.
“Nicu!” we hollered, throwing ourselves against the barrier.
A barbaric sound launched from my chest as I rammed my fist into the partition, blood oozing from my knuckles. Aspen called out something, but the thrumming of my heart blotted her entreaties. I did this several times until Aspen clenched my shoulders and hauled me backward.
“Listen,” she hissed, then tilted her head and whistled.
To which another muffled whistle responded. Heaving in relief, Aspen blew out a melody that Nicu loved to sing. In reply, the same tune floated from my liege’s location and penetrated the trunk.
My muscles slackened. I slumped to the ground, scrubbed a hand through my hair, and concentrated on the environment. No shifts or sensations. No metamorphosis other than the tree roots. At last, warmth coursed through my veins, indicating calmness and safety.
I sagged. “He’s well.”
Aspen exhaled. “I saw the horses leading him into one of the tree hollows. It was big enough for all of them.”
Thank Seasons. Though, this consolation was short-lived. Like the wraiths and most other species in nature, trees operated on defense mechanisms. Some hollows closed whenever threats or unwanted vermin attempted to enter their trunks. We had been fast enough to avoid the roots barring us, but we would be confined here until devising a way out.
With dusk approaching, the temperature dipped, and light receded. However, the hollow provided insulation. Against external perils and with no suitable campsite nearby, this tree became the lesser of two evils. We would remain here for the night.
“Aire,” the woman hinted. “Your sword is poking my ass.”
Dammit. I shuffled back, jamming my weight into the opposite wall. Except these cramped quarters barely supplied us with room to move, much less to keep apart. Daunted, we reassessed our surroundings. Then we glanced at one another.
Fuck me to hell.
Two fighters. One tree.
20
Aspen
Nightfall slipped through an overhead crevice. A beam of moonlight and the faint glow of bioluminescent leaves draped over our features, enabling us to see one another in the murk.
An inconvenienced scowl pulled across Aire’s face. Not at me for once, but at the situation.
Nonetheless, trained soldiers dealt with assassins, carnage, warfare, natural disasters, climate shifts, rugged terrain, roadblocks, and the occasional force of dark Seasonal magic, including but not limited to murderous fauna and leaf storms that shifted into wraiths.
Whereas I had managed to endure seven years of Rhys. Enough said.
So if we could handle those obstacles, this draconian knight and I would last eight hours cramped inside a bloody tree. Nicu was secure. Us too. Moreover, the leaf wraiths had dissipated, and the roots would protect everyone from nocturnal carnivores. Until the sun rose, nothing else mattered. By then, either the tree would free us or I’d be forced to chop our way out, assuming the barricade wasn’t impenetrable.
Coming to this silent agreement, we pivoted from each other. The knight removed his broadswords and laid them on the ground. Then he scooted farther back, wedging his massive back harder into the trunk.
I braced my palm against the bark. From the glimpse I received before diving inside, the tawny yellow broadleaves had been leathery, and batches of prickly nut husks clustered the base.
