Page 7 of Kiss of Smoke

I held on tight, my bones rattling as we hit the ground and raced past screaming Fae, leaving twenty yards of black skid marks on the pavement behind us when we pulled to a stop outside the manhole cover.

I spilled off the bike and made to race towards it, but Gwyn caught my arm. “Don’t even think about it,” he snarled.

I was caught between two competing desires: save Oriande’s life...but do it without being a hero on my own.

“Watch my back, Gwyn,” I breathed, gripping his hand. “I’m not going down there. I don’t need to.”

He looked into my eyes, saw that I was telling the truth, and nodded.

I knelt on the ground, the asphalt burning my scraped knees, and spread my hands on the ground.

The roots of the city would be my eyes in the dark.

3

They saywhen you hit absolute bottom, you can always find more of yourself to give.

Earlier tonight, I thought I’d hit my bottom.

I’d been hunted like a dog, beaten, bruised, and terrified. My debt had bound me to allow a madman to bring me within an inch of death. I’d seen the Queen’s palace reduced to a pile of glittering rubble, amid news that my tree was now the site of sacrificial death.

But when I saw the terror on Oriande’s face as she was dragged into the Undercity, I realized that I wasn’t even close to the bottom.

I took control of the roots growing in the dank walls of the Undercity, my physical eyes seeing nothing as I turned inwards and became one with the roots.

But through the roots, though they were blind, I could feel, taste, touch, and heareverything.

They crept through the tunnel walls, growing thicker and denser, forming a golem of branches and thorns. I settled my mind in it, adjusting to the sensation of wooden limbs, and pulled us out of the dirt wall. We took several tentative steps together.

Through my golem’s makeshift body, I tasted the tang of adrenaline in the air, soaked up the reverberation of screams.

With my mind inhabiting the golem, I had no need of eyes. Fingers made of roots felt along the walls, tasting where the humans had moved and touched, the vibrations of their footsteps guiding the way.

I went deeper, putting out feelers, joining with an entire network of plants below the city.

It was dangerous for a dryad to go this far. There were times when you went so far, you might never come back out; your physical body would be a forgotten shell, your mind running rampant among the trees.

But Oriande was so close. The humans were in disarray, fighting with the struggling Gentry woman who was giving as good as she got.

She must’ve clawed at them with her nails; my golem touched the walls and tasted blood. I followed that taste to the vibrations that were growing heavier and faster.

Roots crept out of the soil, sliding upwards to wrap around numerous boots and legs, pinning the humans in place.

I felt the shockwave of the first surprised shout when they realized they were being held. The roots shrieked as the humans tore themselves away, destroying the delicate tendrils, but more replaced them.

My golem strode forward, creaking as its wooden skeleton thickened and grew, gaining mass as I poured energy into it.

Oriande’s aura was so close I could almost taste it—then something heavy smashed into the golem, sending a burst of pain back through the network of roots and into my physical body.

It was so jarring it almost severed the connection, but I doubled down, clinging to the golem as I sent it into the fray.

Blood soaked into its framework as it began to fight the humans, shoving them aside, landing blows on frail human skin with its thorny fists. Their voices blared around us, making the walls shake with minute vibrations.

But it didn’t take long to drive them off. Even the Unstained Souls were afraid of things they couldn’t understand, and a walking creature made of wood and thorns was one of them.

I picked up Oriande using the golem’s arms, helping her to her feet. Our roots soaked up her tears and blood, but she was alive.

The golem gestured wordlessly, leading her back to me.

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