Page 60 of Kiss of Smoke

I braced myself as they lifted me. Blessed Branches, it hurt like nothing else I’d ever experienced. It felt like my muscles were thin strings just barely holding my skeleton together.

And with this much cold iron buried in me, they probably wouldn’t hold together for much longer.

Moving as quickly as possible without jostling me around, they brought me to an empty patch of yard, where Gwyn had roughly torn the grass away. He’d left a circle of dirt behind, roots poking out of the soil, and I let out a sigh of relief when Jack and Robin gently laid me on it.

It was good dirt. The kind of rich, dark dirt a tree needed.

I dug my fingers into the ground, letting my magic blossom. “Take the cold iron out,” I told them. My voice was growing weaker by the moment, and Robin had to lean in close to hear me at all.

"Briallen…the pain is going to be monstrous…”

”It can’t hurt more than it already does,” I said faintly, closing my eyes.

I knew Robin would do right by me, even if it meant hurting me. I heard him and Gwyn speaking as my mind drifted. The blood loss would soon be too much to do anything.

When I felt something prod into my shoulder, driving deep into the wound, my back arched in agony. Then the same sensation occurred in my stomach and leg, and I let out a rusty scream.

Thank the trees my men had better sense than to stop just because I was screaming. The pain kept going until I couldn’t scream anymore, and I didn’t realize I’d fainted until Robin gently shook me, taking my face in his hands.

“It’s gone,” he told me, his skin pale as death under the mask of dirt and blood. “The cold iron is out.”

“Good.” I closed my eyes, taking a few shallow breaths. I had just enough magic left in me to do this. “I love you all. Wait for me.”

I didn’t stop to listen to them say anything back, because I sensed that I was far too close to the point of no return.

I just dug my nails into the dirt, letting the last of my magic and blood pour into the soil around me. Even though I knew this was possible, I was still afraid.

Like the golem, it was hard for a dryad to go this deep into the trees and still find a way back.

All of nature rose up to meet me, welcoming me with open branches and roots. The faerie fruit bushes murmured reassurances to me as my fingers became roots, inching downwards into the soil, and my skin hardened to bark.

I felt myself growing and changing, darkness enveloping me, but I rose up to meet the other trees.

They whispered encouragement, telling me that even though my leaves were withered and dry, they would come back with time, and my roots would grow strong.

I was a sickly tree, but I wasn’t a monstrosity of thorns. I let my roots expand, tasting the ground, feeling the vibrations of my mens’ feet as they walked around me, the ticklish sensation of their fingers running over my trunk.

All dryads were given this gift, only to be used in times of great need. Usually we only used the gift when we were tired of the world and needed a rest.

A permanent rest, because once a dryad became a tree, it was nearly impossible to leave the serenity of becoming one with nature.

But I was rooted in my true home, and I felt them near me, their hands on my bark. Even if all of nature called to me, I would have a tie to bring me back home.

Even though I no longer had eyes to close or lungs to breathe, I let the wind rustle through my branches one last time, felt the comforting vibrations of their voices, and let my mind go dark.

21

The treesand I became one.

Time lost all meaning, and the only thing I knew was the change of seasons. I’d grown when the seasons were hot, and slept deeply as it slowly cooled.

We felt rain pouring down, sliding off our leaves and puddling in the earth around us. The air felt denser now, full of magic, and it also sank into us, moving through our leaves and from the ground below.

The Veil, the trees whispered with relief.The Veil has come down.

The Veil meant nothing to me. All I knew was that the sudden thick magic was helping me, speeding the acceleration of my strength.

My roots sucked up the rain, and I was just beginning to feel the beginnings of fresh new leaves when the temperatures dropped.

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