A fluttery roar rose over the ominous lapping of the river and the creaking of uprooted trees, sounding like someone swinging a rock around on a rope. Kjaelle’s return guttural scream made Vantra shudder. As fear pounded through her, she planted the Sun illumination on Jare’s shoulder, formed another, and zipped ahead, searching for non-flooded ground.
All she saw were surging waves and raindrops roughening them.
The water sprayed high into the air after hitting the debris dam, driving more and more trunks and rubble into the blockade. The groans, cracks and pops increased, some soft, some loud as a whip. How much longer would the thing hold?
Vines arched over the sparse canopy surrounding her, the tips heading for her head; purple magic severed them. They spiraled and splashed down, showering everything nearby in heavy droplets. Two at the edges of her light caught in treetops, tumbled through, and landed without a splash.
Land!
She set a Touch of Sun against a trembling branch and plotted a course for Jare over the makeshift bridge. Some of the way had wet foliage and twig obstacles, but she saw no other path. She reached the ground, soggy with water, turned and squeaked; the Light-blessed hopped to the soil next to her, streams running down him and Laken to further muddy the earth.
He laughed and patted her arm. “The baubles were simple to follow.” He glanced up at the canopy, which half-concealed the two fighters. “Laken, are you OK?”
“No.”
He chuckled. “No branches or whatnot sticking out of you?”
“No. Your shields worked fine.”
“The corruption didn’t contaminate your essence?” Vantra looked them both over but did not see any signs of nastiness.
“I burned what I could,” Jare said. “I may not have Clear Rays, but there are Light spells for this sort of thing. And the water cared for the rest.” He jerked his chin away from the battle. “Try not to lose sight of the river. If we go too far into the trees, we won’t be able to find our way back out.”
“But what if the dam bursts?”
A voluminous roar rocked the air. Vantra gasped as Kjaelle punched the vine creature, and it crashed through the trees, vines snaking up and hovering over it before plowing into her.
“We can’t stay here, where they can see us,” Jare said.
Wind whipped past, and hard rain pelted the shields. Had the downpour increased? Just their luck. Vantra glared at the drops, wavering between the need to switch to Physical Touch to avoid her wisps being washed away, and knowing the defenses she erected would keep her safe from that fate.
Out of sorts, she flitted over the floppy bushes, searching for an uncluttered path for Jare. He could not employ his Ethereal form because Laken, as an UnRedeemed ghost, would fall right through him instead of changing with him. The prohibitions keeping Field spirits from using any kind of Ether Touch would not lift despite external danger. When they got back to the mini-Joyful, she would thank him properly for aiding her Chosen despite the threats.
“I’m surprised the roots got you, too,” Jare said as he squeezed around a bush, avoiding the lapping water by a toe’s length.
She shook her head. “They didn’t.”
“Ah. You came after us.” The Light-blessed sounded as if he expected such a heroic act from her.
“No.” Shame crept from her chest to her head. “I wanted to cast Clear Rays, stop the roots from taking you, but something bad happened.”
“What do you mean?”
“I . . .” Her emotions wobbled and set a hand to her chest, attempting to steady her feelings. “Red said not to use Clear Rays because it would take out the shield pole. And then he screamed and fell. There was a small spear in his shoulder, like the mephoric emblems we saw in the Snake’s Den. He turned to Light, there was an explosion, and something—”
A dragon-like roar of wild rage tore through the air. Jare cursed. “Dammit, Kjaelle lost it. We need to get out of her way.”
A blast of wind laden with magic ripped the treetops away, and the trunks leaned in the direction they ran before snapping and toppling. Bushes uprooted, foliage shredded, wood, bark, leaves bounced off the shields. One by one, the layers Vantra frantically slapped in place to keep them grounded, to keep them protected, shattered, the pieces flying away with the debris. Sharing her shield trigger with Kjaelle gave her access to her protections, and the elfine’s monstrous form easily destroyed them.
The gusts died, and the earth shook. Unable to keep his footing, the Light-blessed tumbled to the ground. Vantra triggered Physical Touch and grabbed his arm, helping him up. Her pack vibrated, and the shard’s power swam along the threads that connected her essence to the fabric, piggybacking on the link to use her as an illumination source. While not a blazing glow that would attract enemy attention, she lit the tangle of debris to their left and the lapping water to their right.
She had thought Red teased when he claimed he would better attune her pack to her Touch changes. Her ghostly clothing and accessories switched between Ether and Physical forms with her, working with her essence as intended; what more did she need? She had handed it to him, then hid from Lorgan and his lessons, not giving it a second thought. But whatever the Light acolyte altered, the shard could now use the connection to do some magical things. Had he linked the badge and altar as well?
Wood cracked. The creature curled vines around the destroyed trunks and yanked, breaking trees in half and lifting them before throwing them at Kjaelle, like a being pitched a ball. Her purple magic intercepted the projectiles, and brightened the rain-drenched darkness, illuminating too-close roots snaking through the debris, aiming for them.
Clear Rays blew from her, a response to her terror. The roots shredded, their surfaces peeling away and evaporating. Golden flames zipped along the lengths, lighting the foliage with magic-fueled fire. They raced up the creature’s body and down the vines, bathing everything in flame. It jerked, flinging the extensions of itself in all directions, setting the still-standing treetops ablaze.
“Vantra!” Jare yelled. “Break the link! The shard’s draining you!”
She struggled to comply, but the spell was not solely her making. The Sun object pushed it beyond her Touch, and she could not rein it in.
“The altar’s glowing red,” Laken shouted.
Kjaelle’s magic plowed into the creature, and violet flames rose with the gold. Plants surrounding the enemy burned like dead leaves in a gardener’s fire, too fast to contain.
Jare clamped down on her wrist, created a shield that broke the tangled flora in their way, and dragged her after him. She fought to pull herself away from the shard, but it insisted on sending more power towards the vine creature. The first flicker of weariness struck, and a different terror filled her. If it drained her—
Red bathed their surroundings. The shard’s stretch snapped, and the energy curled back, trailing through her essence and searing her before returning to its shell. Both the gold and red glows dimmed.
No, no, they still needed light! Despite the fiery prickles racing through her, she concentrated on her hand, and Sun flickered across the palm.
Smoke drifted to them on a hot breeze. The treetops raged with Sun’s fire, and no amount of rain would snuff it out.
A deafening crack reached them. Had the debris given way?
Water lashed at Jare’s feet. “Dammit,” he seethed.
“It’s either climb into the burning treetops or run into the forest,” Laken said.
“Sure you don’t want to ride a tree down the flood?” Jare asked as he peeked over his shoulder at the battle.
“And stare the Final Death straight on? No thanks.”
The Light-blessed hissed. “I’m trying to reach Qira and Katta so they can yank us back, but I can’t.” He looked at Vantra, anger covering a deeper emotion. “What else happened?”
Before she answered, the water surged past their knees. Should it not drain, if the dam broke? She slapped shield after shield after shield beneath Jare’s, strengthening the layers to keep the river away as they reached the edges of the wind-created plant piles. He pointed to the trees—a place they should not enter without Strans’ Blessing. What might happen, if they got lost? Praying to their enemy for a way out would not work.
“Vantra, can you burn that?”
She frowned at him, then at the place he indicated; a streambed flowed between two embankments, vines blocking the way. The ground sloped up just high enough that the floodwater did not reach past the barrier.
“Retravagance.”
Flames sucked from her essence and slammed into the barrier; she winced at the unsubtle yank on her energy reserves. The vines wobbled and jerked and broke into blazing pieces that plopped into the burbling stream, clearing the way. They fled high enough to avoid the nastier water, then they looked back the way they had come; orange smoke hung in the treetops, light from fire reflecting off it.
“Is this a good place to stop?” Laken asked.
“There isn’t foliage along this path, so whatever burns will be above or around us,” Jare said. “If Vantra and I keep shields up, I think we’ll weather it.”
As far as she could tell, no plants, no bushes, no trees, grew in, along or above the stream, the rock-strewn ground, or the embankments, and she saw no evidence Kjaelle’s attack cleared the area. The vacancy, in an otherwise lush forest, struck her as odd.
Help.
Vantra lurched around and stared down the path.
Help.
“Do you hear that?” she whispered.
“Hear what?” Jare quieted, smoothing his hair back on his head, then turned his head. “Laken?”
“I don’t hear anything.”
She slid her bangs behind her ears, nonplussed. She heard the call, as desperate as any that originated in the Fields. Longing, bitterness, resignation, all wound together in a muddled hope reminiscent of a Condemned realizing a Finder stepped near and might Choose them.
“Vantra?” Laken asked, sharp enough to draw her attention to him.
“It’s like a call from the Fields,” she said. “I hear it, as loud as I heard you.”
“There’s another UnRedeemed around here?” he asked, sour and displeased.
“No. Whoever calls, they have the desperation but not the agony.”
Roots poured over the top of the left-side embankment. Vantra yelped as the strikes rebounded off the shields, but they accomplished their intent; the combination Light and Sun defenses cracked and broke. She layered more, the weariness growing despite her fear. Jare stuck his Light protections beneath hers, then froze.
“You felt that?” Laken asked, harsh with surprise and apprehension.
“Yeah,” Jare said, looking at his hands and then up the stream.
A pull, a promise. Safety from the roots, safety from the water, safety from the flames.
A trick? Vantra jerked from the Touch, then realized neither the badge nor the altar glowed in warning. She slid the pack from her shoulders and looked inside, to make certain. “I don’t think whoever it is means us harm.”
Jare eyed the interior, then the rocky pathway that lined the gurgling flow.
More roots rushed at them. She smooshed the pack to her chest and raced along the stream, the Light-blessed on her heels. The tips slammed into the earth behind them in quick succession.
“Run faster!” Laken yelled.
Says the man without legs! Vantra buried her resentment and concentrated on moving and holding her shields.
The protections glowed with Sun’s light, illuminating the ground in front of them, but she still yelped in shock as they ran into a tunnel she had not seen. The roots sank into the entrance soil, obstructing the opening. Jare looked back, frowning.
“They could follow us down here,” he muttered. “Why aren’t they?”
She had no answer.
