Page 93 of Prince of Shadow and Ash

Bark like obsidian and leaves like shards of glass but soft as feathers.

They rode toward the flashes of light. They rounded a large willow and Regulus held up his hand to shade his eyes, squinting.

Some twenty paces ahead stood a tree several stories tall. Wide branches spread out, stretching over a meadow and nearby trees. He couldn’t look directly at the branches. Sunlight reflected off tens of thousands of silvery-white leaves, illuminating the surrounding forest. No trees stood within ten paces of its massive, shiny black trunk. Light bounced off leaves and gave the obsidian bark a dull glow. After a moment of gawking, he rode forward. Dresden followed.

The closer they got to the tree, the more leaves from the neumenet tree covered the ground. As long as his hand and no wider than two finger’s breadth and opaque, they looked like shards of glass after a heavy frost. He dismounted and retrieved a spade from his saddlebag. The leaves made a quiet rustling beneath his feet as he walked closer to the trunk. Like walking on straw. Curious, he knelt down. He touched one, half expecting it to cut him. Instead, it gave way beneath his fingers. He picked the leaf up. It was solid, yet light and soft to the touch. He dropped it, and it drifted to the ground.

He had the strangest sensation. Like the earth and forest around him were extra alive. The bizarre whisper of a breeze in the leaves of the neumenet tree above him sounded at once welcoming and foreboding. As if the tree itself invited him to rest in its shade, but with an undercurrent of doubt and warning. He shook his head and scanned the ground. Paranoia.

He saw a hint of black root breaking the surface of the ground and knelt next to it. Dresden joined him, also bearing a spade. Together, they dug around the root until a little over a foot was exposed. Regulus’ hunting knife made a high-pitched rasp as he sawed through the black wood. Dresden started on the other end, and the sound made Regulus’ ears ache.

Unlike the trunk, the root had no shine. But it was hard, sweat-inducing work. Every so often, a low, rumbling creak sounded from the trunk. Almost a groan. As if the tree felt pain.Ridiculous. Trees don’t feel pain. Right?He wiped away some sweat from his forehead before it dripped into his eyes.This is wrong. He felt in his soul there was something special, sacred even, about this place. About this tree.

But his freedom depended on getting this root.

His future. His ability to marry Adelaide.

Etiros, forgive me. I know I ask often. But forgive me.

Finally, he cut through the root. He could have sworn the tree shuddered. Glittering leaves drifted to the ground all around. He shifted and took over for Dresden, who sat back, panting. It took another couple minutes to cut through again. He picked up the root and strapped it to his saddlebags. A woody groaning followed them away from the tree. Regulus’ heart and conscience felt heavy.

They made it back to Arrano without being stopped, but Regulus didn’t relax until they arrived. They had been gone nearly five days. Eight days had passed since the sorcerer contacted him. Adelaide would arrive for supper in three days. It would take two to get to the sorcerer’s tower and back.

To his relief, everything else was ready. The circlet complete. Fifteen whole clamshells were in a bag, cleaned and ready. A guest bedroom was crowded with white flowers in vases, bowls, and jars. He only needed one more thing. One more thing to ask Etiros to forgive him for.

He knocked on Harold’s door. The small tin vial and knife in his hands seemed heavy as a boulder. Harold opened the door and smiled.

“What can I...” Harold’s brows knit. “What’s wrong, my lord?”

Regulus exhaled and his shoulders dipped down. He hated himself for doing this. His hands grew slick. His head ached.

Harold looked down at the vial and dagger in Regulus’ hands. “My lord?” The confusion and anxiety in his voice made Regulus’ stomach turn.

He looked away from Harold’s face, unable to meet his eyes as he held out the knife and vial. “I...” He swallowed. “I have to ask something of you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I need...” Another gulp. “The sorcerer needs your blood. The blood of an innocent person. You have a good heart, a kind soul, and have never killed.” He tasted bile at the back of his throat. “He said he only needs a few drops. I’m not asking as your lord.” He forced himself to look at his squire. “I’m asking as your friend. I won’t force you—”

“This will help free you?”

“I hope so.”

Harold nodded, then took the dagger. “My life is yours, my lord. I can spare a few drops of blood. That’s a small favor.” He made a small cut on the side of his hand. He held the blade against the wound and blood pooled on it.

Feeling wretched, Regulus pulled the stopper out of the vial. Harold placed the tip of the dagger in the top, and a small rivulet of blood dripped in. Regulus replaced the stopper. Harold handed back the dagger and held his other hand over the cut.

“Thank you,” Regulus said quietly. “You’re a good man.”

Harold shrugged. “I have a good example to follow.”

Regulus trudged up the stairs, the vial of Harold’s blood clutched in his hand.I don’t deserve your admiration.

––––––––

REGULUS DIDN’T WEARthe Black Knight armor on the way to the sorcerer’s tower, either. Let him be angry. Regulus needed speed, not theatrics. His saddlebags bulged. One end of the black neumenet root stuck out from under the flap. Leaves from the flowers poked out everywhere. If anyone stopped him, they would have plenty of questions.

He kept off the main roads, cutting across fields and through woods to take the most direct route. Stars appeared as he reached the dead forest surrounding the sorcerer’s tower. Moonlight made the barren white trees look ghostly. He dismounted and knocked on the door. After a couple minutes, a deadbolt clanged on the other side of the door. The door opened, and the sorcerer stepped onto the threshold. Firelight flickered inside the tower. Even standing a step below him, Regulus stood taller than him. But the dark power emanating from the sorcerer made Regulus feel weak.

---