We trekked past the coastline to a narrow plain where the vegetation began its assault on reason. Trunks swelled into bulbous masses, as if each tree had swallowed a boulder and grown around it, their bark smooth and pale as bone. Branches reached skyward, bare except for clusters of waxy leaves at the very tips, giving them the appearance of overgrown root vegetables that had been planted upside down.
“Bottle trees,” Tyrin offered, noting my fascination. “I have seen drawings, but the reality is....”
“Absurd.”
“I was going to say remarkable, but absurd is fitting.”
We continued inland, climbing gently as the plain rosetoward the limestone plateau. Hardy white shrubs erupted with pink blossoms that seemed too delicate for such unforgiving terrain, yet they thrived in defiance of all expectations.
When I saw the first dragon blood tree, I stopped walking.
It stood alone on a rocky outcropping, its trunk thick and gnarled, supporting an impossibly wide canopy that spread in a perfect dome. A deep crimson resin bled from cracks in the bark.
Dragon’s blood.
My hand reached out before I could stop it, fingers hovering above the bark. Magic hummed beneath the surface. It was not the wild power of the valley, but something quieter. A heartbeat. A memory.
I knew these trees. Not from books, nor stored memories, but from somewhere deeper. A recognition that bypassed my mind entirely and settled in my bones.
“M’lord?” Tyrin had stopped several paces ahead.
“My mother kept a painting of one in her study,” I said, recalling the small canvas rendered in reds and greens so vivid they seemed alive. I had been too young to understand why she kept it, and she had died before I thought to ask.
Tyrin said nothing, but his expression softened.
The dragon blood trees grew more numerous as we climbed, dotting the ridgeline in clusters that resembled a council of elders gathered in quiet deliberation. The artifact pulled me forward with increasing urgency.
We were closing in on the wolves.
Silentium hummed against my back, eager for what lay ahead. For once, I shared my blade’s impatience. The hunt was nearly over.
Yet something told me the reckoning waiting at its end would be far more complicated than I had imagined.
ALL OR NOBODY
Ziara
We ran.
In wolf form, the pack would have covered twice the distance in half the time, with me riding on Mack’s back. But shifting burned energy we couldn’t spare, and we’d need our strength—and our weapons—for whatever waited at the other end of this mad dash.
So, the others remained on two legs with me, and we ate up the miles at the steady, punishing pace Rust had beaten into my muscle memory since childhood.
Dad led, rifle slung across his back, reading the bizarre terrain as if he’d been here before. I stayed beside Mack at the rear, trying not to gawk at our freakish surroundings because I needed to stay focused. We’d survived the creepy fishmen and evaded the slavers, but the bloodstone pulsed against my thigh with every stride, a constant reminder of the threat we had yet to face.
Socotra was otherworldly beautiful. The further inland we climbed, the stranger and more colorful the landscape became. Fat, fleshy plants with leaves like swords sprouted betweenboulders. Gnarled shrubs bore bright orange pods that smelled faintly of cinnamon. A bird with iridescent blue plumage and a curved, scimitar-like beak watched us pass from a rocky perch, its head tilting with an intelligence that made me uneasy.
Even the air felt different. Thicker. Charged with power that reminded me of the moment before a thunderstorm. Only this anticipation smelled like honey.
Whatever this was would irrevocably change my world; I just knew it.
I’d always been willing to die for my pack, but that truth hit a little differently now that energy crackled beneath my skin. It made me want to bolt in the opposite direction.
I will not be a coward.
The alpha slowed as we crested a ridge, and I nearly plowed into Rust’s back. Below, a canyon split the plateau like a jagged wound gouged into the earth. Pale limestone walls plunged into a narrow gorge choked with vegetation. At its heart, turquoise pools of water glinted in the midday sun. Dragon blood trees lined the rim, their umbrella canopies casting pockets of shade.
Despite the bizarre beauty, it was the feeling in my chest that stopped me cold.
