Page 28 of King

The Rue I know would have ripped that hand clean off. But this Rue is too torn apart to register the seer’s touch. The life has faded from her eyes. She looks like she can barely keep herself upright.

My own heart cracked when I found out Vaegon was taken, but seeing Rue like this threatens to cleave it in two. I lift her into my arms and hold her as tightly as I can. But I don’t know how to hold her together when I’m breaking apart, too.

“Have hope.”

The whisper swirls across the clearing like sand in the wind. A feeling of calm settles over me, but I’m still too defensive to let it sink in.

I turn to see who the voice belongs to, and I’m frozen by what I find. A gentle dryad has emerged from the shelter of his towering tree and is moving gracefully toward us.

Deep blue intertwining roots form his slender body and legs. His long arms stretch out like branches and taper into thin, twig-like fingers. Layers of rough bark cover his face, revealing only golden eyes and thin lips from underneath. Purple saplings sprout from the crown of his head. Their tiny leaves sway with each step he takes like wisps of thin, wavy hair.

I’ve only caught glimpses of dryads in the forest–glowing, golden eyes blinking in the dark or the tail end of one’s body rejoining with its host. I’ve never seen one fully separated from its tree. I’m surprised to find he’s only as tall as I am, so slight next to the massive trunk he emerged from. Yet his spirit wraps me with warmth and tranquility. He feels like the essence of goodness itself.

I set Rue on her feet, hoping his presence comforts her, too. It’s so rare for dryads to show themselves. Perhaps they are closer to the elves than the rest of the high fae.

But this dryad isn’t here for any elf; he’s focused on Rue and me.

“You must believe what the seer tells you,” he says. “Time is your greatest adversary in this battle.”

“How?” Rue sniffs, staring down at her empty hands. She’s too heartbroken to recognize the significance of standing before a dryad like this. “The queen has ruled out of hate for ages. Why the sudden urgency?”

The dryad bows his head to her. “The queen wasn’t always evil. Long ago, she ascended to the throne by protecting the realm with her formidable strength. But as the centuries passed,she felt threatened by other fae with powerful magic.”

I lower myself to the grass and pull Rue down into my lap, hoping to convey my respect and attentiveness. The dryads are ancient. They are everywhere and see everything. They communicate across the entire realm, sharing all they know with each other. They usually keep this information to themselves. We need to hang on to every word he says.

Rue relaxes against me and numbly waits for him to continue.

“The queen tried everything to strengthen her magic. She tried stealing it from other fae, but she was unsuccessful. She experimented with potions and spells, all of which ultimately failed. Eventually, she became desperate. Lost. She began offering sacrifices to Faerie in hopes of a blessing.”

“What kind of sacrifices,” Rue asks softly, tightening her grip on my arm.

I doubt any of us want to hear the answer, but it’s important.

“At first, she took lesser fae. But that wasn’t enough. So she turned to the high fae. All species. Even her own.”

Rue covers her mouth with her hands in disgust and curls up in my arms. I can’t let myself waver now that I know just how depraved the queen really is.

“It was futile, for Faerie is goodness and light. But her insatiable greed drew the attention of something else. Something dark and far more sinister. It’s buried deep inside the realm,” he says, pointing his wooden fingers at the ground. “Far deeper than our roots can reach. It saw the queen and rewarded her wickedness with more power. Power no fae could hope to match. But… the magic was fleeting.”

“That’s why she communes in the forest…” I say, lowering Rue on the grass beside me so I can walk while I think. “She’s not communing with Faerie. She’s spilling innocent blood to buy more power from the darkness.”

The dryad’s roots creek softly as he nods at me.

Fleeting magic. Sacrifices. The mixed fae. It all makes sense now.

“She dumps what magic she has left in the mixed fae before each meeting with the dark force,” I think aloud as I pace. “She’s trying to make more room for the magic. Or wants to appear weaker in hopes that the force will give her more. Then, as the blessing runs out, she reclaims what she stored in the mixed fae to get her through until the next one.”

“We were not aware of her using the mixed fae for such purposes,” the dryad says gravely. “It would explain why we haven’t seen a mixed fae serve as her sacrifice in quite some time.”

I sit back down beside Rue to let him take over.

“Striking deals with evil is never wise. The sacrifices were no longer enough. She was given less power each time. She made more and more sacrifices in exchange for diminishing returns. In desperation, she promised the dark force anything it wanted.”

“And what did it want?” Rue asks, leaning toward the dryad in anticipation.

His eyes turn to her, filled with compassion. He folds his hands together and looks off into the trees. “It wanted part of the queen herself. Her very essence–an heir.”

Rue’s face is filled with horror. The pain the dryad had distracted her from comes crashing back in the worst way possible. “Did she do it?” she whispers.

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