Page 60 of Midnight Star

It’s like coming home to a place I never knew I missed.

My magic responds too, the water in the air practically singing to me, begging to be shaped and controlled. I was already doing a good job at connecting with my magic in the Winter Court, but this is something else entirely.

My magic is no longer a part of me that I have to reach for.

Here, my magicisme.

Riven, however, doesn’t look as good. His cheeks are flushed, sweat already beading on his forehead.

“This place,” he says as he glares around at the beauty I was just admiring, “is not exactly ideal for ice magic.”

“We’ll be as quick as possible,” I promise, reaching for his hand. “Especially since we were dropped off right near the tree.”

With that, I turn back around to face it.

Commanding and ancient, it towers above the surrounding forest, each curve and knot in its massive trunk telling stories older than anything I can imagine. But it’s the leaves that steal my breath away. They shimmer like molten gold caught in the starlight, each one radiating a soft glow that makes the tree seem one with the Universe itself.

Riven wipes a bead of sweat from his brow and frowns. “It looks… alive,” he finally says.

“Well, itisa tree,” I tease, although my own nerves prickle as we get closer. “And unless the Winter Court has a special brand of tree that I’m unaware of, they tend to be alive.”

“That was a wonderful botany lesson,” he says, scanning the tree cautiously. “Please, enlighten me further while I slowly melt into the forest floor.”

“Don’t go melting on me now,” I quip, although I tighten my grip on his hand, as if that will hold him together. “I’m quite fond of you in solid form.”

“Oh—I know what you like in solid form,” he replies with a smirk, and I simply roll my eyes and continue toward the tree.

At least the heat hasn’t melted his ego.

When we’re finally a few feet away, I see the thick sap peeking through the cracks in its bark.

“The amberdew sap,” I whisper, reaching out to touch it.

“Sapphire, wait—” Riven starts, but it’s too late.

The moment my fingertips graze the bark, roots thick as tree trunks burst from the earth, surging toward us from every direction, whipping through the air like massive serpents.

Silver flashes in the corner of my vision as Riven draws his blade in time to slice through the nearest root surging toward my chest. But the severed limb barely hits the ground before two more lash out to take its place.

So, he raises his hand, frost forming at his fingertips, and hurls a surge of ice magic into the oncoming attack. The roots stiffen as the frost spreads—but then, just as fast, they shudder and crack, steam rising as the heat of the tree’s magic melts the ice.

At almost the same time, I fling my hands out, summoning a wall of wind to shove the roots back. It stops them from reaching us, but it’s not enough. I try again, and again, but the tree puts up a worthy fight, determined to wrap around us and trap us in its clutches.

Riven growls and conjures a group of jagged ice spikes, launching them like a hailstorm toward thetwisting limbs. They strike with deadly precision, impaling one of the roots and shattering it into splinters.

The attacks pause for a second.

Then, a thick root slams into the ground between us, splitting the earth in a violent tremor. Another comes at me, and I throw myself into a roll, barely escaping its clutches.

Miraculously, I catch myself somewhat gracefully. As I do, my water magic surges inside me, and I send a concentrated jet of it slicing through the air, aiming for the root’s base.

It connects, but it barely leaves a mark.

I glance around, but the roots are surrounding us. There’s no way out.

Riven’s sword flashes as he hacks at a particularly thick root. Ice spreads from his blade, but again, it melts before it can get a proper grip on anything.

Anger rushes through me, and I summon a gust of wind, propelling myself backward as three roots converge on my position. My dagger strikes one, but it’s like trying to cut through steel.

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