Page 97 of Crimson Skies

Cassius and Morgan were rising from the main table. Loki clung to them. They spoke gently to the imp. Loki finally relented and let go, shoulders drooping. King Rizen put a comforting arm around his son.

“Looks like they’re about to leave,” Victor murmured.

41

Morgan tookCassius’s hand as they headed into the palace gardens. “Nervous?”

“A little.” Cassius gripped Morgan’s fingers tightly, the wedding cord around his wrist brushing against his skin. “I just…really want this to work.”

Morgan met his bright gaze. “If it doesn’t, we can try again.” He kissed the back of his hand reverently. “We have all the time in the world, my love.”

Cassius smiled tremulously. “Okay.”

Guilt tightened Morgan’s chest a little. He hadn’t told Cassius what Atropos had whispered to him the day before, at the rehearsal dinner. Of the vision she’d had of their child. She’d told him to keep it a secret from Cassius for some unknown reason.

The sound of carousing rose behind them, where the reception was still in full flow. The party would last an entire week, as per Dryad tradition. According to Galliad, the palace had stocked up on a myriad of hangover potions to serve their guests.

Morgan and Cassius had bid everyone goodbye before joining the escort that would guide them to the Tree of Esnant.

From what Regina Bvarvik had revealed when they’d made their request to consume its fruit, Esnant was a powerful Dryad mage who had wished for a child for thousands of years but never been able to bear one. At the end of her life, she had turned into a tree whose fruit harbored the power to birth a child born of two souls, irrespective of their gender or race. The new soul, once formed, would incubate like a Dryad infant, until it was mature enough to sustain itself independently of the magic that would feed it. According to legend, the stronger the soul, the shorter the incubation period, just as it was for naturally conceived Dryad children.

The tree only bore fruit once every few hundred years and often yielded a single harvest. The one it had produced two centuries ago was currently in the possession of the Dryad royal family.

Roald and Hildur walked sedately ahead of them, the flaming torches held by the royal guards lighting their path. They passed the open-air aviary where the giant eagles roosted and entered the ancient forest at the rear of the palace grounds. Lanterns became visible between the trees. Moss-covered flagstones soon materialized underfoot.

The path led them deeper into the woods.

They crossed the glade where a marble pavilion holding a life-size statue of Pan sat in the shadow of a giant elm and traveled another quarter mile before the darkness began to lighten. A green glow appeared up ahead.

Morgan straightened. Cassius’s pulse quickened against his fingers as the light grew, brightening the forest until they hardly needed the torches. The path widened.

They emerged before a majestic tree soaring some five hundred feet into the sky. Morgan drew a sharp breath. The power he’d felt from a distance pulsed against his skin and bolstered his core.

Atlanteia’s magic throbbed from the Tree of Esnant, the light it emitted blanketing its emerald leaves and thick branches in dazzling viridescence.

Morgan’s gaze landed on Regina where she stood dwarfed by an arch made of gnarled roots.

Cassius stiffened at the sight of the golden bowl in the seer’s hands. He swallowed and turned to Roald and Hildur. “Thank you again for granting our wish.”

Hildur smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “The Fruit of Esnant will always be available to you. After all, you are the partner of Queen Atlanteia’s grandchild.”

Roald cackled and patted Morgan’s shoulder forcefully. “Good luck. You’re going to need all your energy.”

Morgan winced. Muffled sniggers sounded from the guards.

Hildur narrowed her eyes at her husband. “Dear, behave!”

Regina sighed. A smile stretched her mouth as she gazed at Morgan and Cassius. “Come.”

Roald and Hildur fell back with their guards while Morgan and Cassius made their way over to the seer. Regina presented them with the bowl. Cassius’s hands trembled as he took it.

Lying within the vessel was a red fruit that resembled a pomegranate.

“Once you are inside the tree, make your way to the sanctuary,” Regina explained. “The lights will guide you. The very first thing you must do is enter the sacred spring. You have to bathe in its waters before consuming the fruit and every day thereafter. It will help you conceive. The innermost chamber of the sanctuary is where the newborn soul will take seed once it is formed. We have stocked the place with food and drink to last two weeks.”

Cassius blinked. “We have to stay in the tree for two weeks?”

Regina’s eyes twinkled. “That is how long the effects of the fruit are known to last. Each couple is different. No one can predict when you will conceive, if you are successful.” She glanced at Morgan. “Your partner doesn’t look like he minds at all.”

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