Page 95 of A Lick of Flame

I sigh with relief when we enter a clearing. If two clearings could be opposites of one another, then this one and the one we left earlier are just that. Where the one with the crystal-clear pool was all about light and beauty and happiness, then this one is dark and downright oppressive. Even the air feels thicker. I get a whiff of rotting vegetation that reminds me of the wastelands.

The trees loom above us, their branches gnarled and twisted, casting deep shadows on the ground beneath our feet. A low, ominous fog blankets the ground from several feet away from the tree, making it difficult to see where we’re stepping.

I feel a shiver of unease run down my spine when I look upon the ancient Menara tree. It towers above us; its roots stick out of the earth in places, reminding me of a hideous serpent. Its branches are twisted and contorted with age. Its bark is thick and rough, even blackened in some places, and its leaves hang lifeless, wrinkled, and white like the fingers of a thousand corpses. And yet, it is very much alive. It’s humming. I feel it on my skin. I feel it inside me.

We move closer, and I see a sickly pale green glow between the cracks and crevices in the bark that makes my skin crawl. The air tastes metallic, and I can feel the presence of dark magic. I glance back at Xander, and he looks just as uneasy, his eyes narrowing as they meet with mine.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks.

“It’s not like we have much choice,” I tell him, taking Maya’s hand. I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile. “You ready?”

She squares her shoulders and nods.

“I think the two of you should stay back,” I tell our companions. “Keep a lookout.”

“We are here if you need us,” Xander says. He puts his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Maya and I step toward the tree. She clutches my hand tighter. I can hear her elevated breathing.

I knock three times on the bark, and we wait, but nothing happens.

I knock again.

Still nothing.

“Let me try,” Maya says. She, too, knocks. One. Two. Three times and the tree starts to vibrate. A deep, rumbling sound echoes all around us. The fog swirls about us, and a cold gust of wind blows through the trees.

Maya’s hair flicks about her face. She clutches my hand even tighter, looking my way for a moment before looking back at the huge trunk before us.

A door appears. The door cracks open just a fraction, and white light spills out through the crack.

33

Maya

This isn’t happening.

It can’t be, and yet it is. Everything inside me is telling me not to open the door and certainly not to step over the threshold.

My head throbs again. I wince, concentrating on letting Raila in. She feels stronger…more insistent. She keeps telling me to come to her. It has happened three times on the trip over here. I think she might be upset about our bond being severed for a short time. I am certain she needs reassurance. She’s just a baby, after all, and my heart melts for her and how she must be feeling. The only consolation is that Delphine is with her. She will be fine. I will break this tether and make certain of it this time. I have to keep her safe. That’s what this is all about.

Right now, I need all my wits about me, so I spend a few seconds reassuring her that I will go to her…soon. That all is well. That I am fine. Thankfully, she eases back, and I am able to breathe again.

“Was it Raila?” Orion asks.

“Yes.”

“Same as before?”

I nod. “Yes, but it’s fine. I’m ready.”

“Good. Let’s do this,” he tells me.

Orion pushes open the door leading into the ancient tree, and we walk inside. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but this certainly isn’t it.

The space inside the tree is far bigger than is possible. The girth of the trunk is huge, but not this big. I suspect some serious magic at work. The word “vast” comes to mind. It’s beautiful and grand. It’s like a cathedral made from gleaming wood, with trunks serving as pillars and branches that have been turned into ornate arches. The most amazing things of all are the stained-glass windows. From the outside, the tree most certainly did not have windows, let alone these big and colorful features. They gleam with an ethereal light, casting a myriad of colors upon the polished floor and surfaces below.

I take a moment to take it all in. Looking at all the splendor. Golden candelabras are on every surface, and beautiful chandeliers hang from the branches, casting a warm, flickering light on the intricate carvings that adorn the walls.

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