Page 37 of A Blightress of Wrath
“Thisis borrowed,” he said at my back. “Thissword has been inPompeii’sfamily for centuries.HeinsistedItake it with us.”Heshot me a playful grin. “Healso saidI’dbe more useful in physical combat than magic on this adventure if needed.”
Ichuckled, knowingPompeiiwas probably right.Mychaelhadn’t been training in magic nearly as long as he trained as aHyrithianRoyalGuard.
Revaddressed all of us. “Mychael,Rell,Ilyenna, andFiguerah, you followKarus’sfootprints.Therest of you, follow mine.Westay in two lines and keep the noise minimal.StepwhereKarusandIstep.Westay close, we stay together.”
Imoved next toRev, planting my boots in the snow at the edge of the trees that seemed to circle around a center.Ifelt the pulse continuously in my bones, and as everyone followed orders,Iclosed my eyes for just a moment to focus.
Thepower flowing from these strange trees was immense.Thisdidn’t feel like theBlight.Itfelt stronger, different from what we’d seen theBlightressproduce so far in her rage across the isle.
Iopened my eyes and frowned.
Itwasn’t just immense power thatIfelt, weighted and heavy in the air in this grove of dense trees.Itwas thepotentialof power.Ijerked my head toRev, meeting his eyes.
“Ifeel it, too,” he spoke low, inaudible to our people behind us.
“Rev…”Mybreathing came at a rapid pace, my bones chilling further as the truth hit me.
“Ithink so,” he agreed, already understanding what we were about to see.
Iturned to address those in our care. “Wefeel...individuals here.”Inodded toRev. “Whateverwe are about to see, try to keep your emotions under control.Weare findingPhilius, and we are leaving withPhilius.Isthat clear?”
Varyingnods of agreement came through their thin shields of light.
Revichtook my hand in his and with a nod from me, we stepped forward into the line of trees.
Chapter18
Rev
Onlyour bootscrunching through the ice broke the silence.Thetrees grew tall with dark trunks dusted in snow.Thesky was harder to see through the tops of dark pine, needles sharp and threatening as we entered the line of trees.
Ihad guessed at what we’d find, but the truth in those trees was far worse than anythingIcould have imagined.Graphedinto each trunk was a face, a body, limbs of people—channelers, conduits possibly—it was too difficult for even me to tell.
Eachbody was sunk in varying depths of the black trees with vines that wound over and through their skin, arms, legs, and torsos.Somefrozen faces could be seen, eyes closed, some were too far into the depths of their tree to even discern if it was a man or woman, old or young.
Ilyennaretched somewhere behind me andTalonrushed to her.Itwisted my head to see her stop him with a hand and a look.Sheshook her head, wiped her mouth, and stood straighter, following the steps through the ice.
Istole a glance at my beloved only to see what she was feeling plainly on her face.
Cold, searing anger engulfed her.Withhands closed tightly at her sides, her jaw clenched as she studied another of the trees.Itsblack carcass pulsed a purple light.Thered hair of the trapped woman lifted slightly in the cold breeze, her face frozen and partially consumed by the rough bark.
“Thisis what she does with them,”Karuswhispered so onlyIcould hear. “Shetakes them and feeds off their power like this.”
“Yes.”
“Therearehundredshere.”Hervoice broke for just a moment before she swallowed and continued. “Howlong do you think she’s been doing this?”
Ishivered, passing by a tree pulsing in a golden glow.Theonly sign of the channeler inside was the shape of a hand reaching out through the coarse bark. “TheTectusTrailhasn’t been used sinceBaronEyrethmurdered his channelers.”
“Lessthan a hundred years, then.”Shepaused, glancing behind to the rest of our people, each face grave and heartbroken for their brothers and sisters in magic. “Whatif one of these is?—”
“Theseare too old.Thesetrees have been here a long time.Weboth can feel it.Ifshe plans this fate forPhilius, we have not come across him yet.”
“Canthey be saved?” she asked, voicing the question we all were undoubtedly thinking.
“Ihope so.”Ireached out to touch the cheek of an old woman, her face the only part of her exposed in the ragged trunk of the tree.Herlashes were encased in ice, frozen to her face.Herwhite magic pulsed from the center of the tree where her heart was buried deep beneath the wood.Shedidn’t flinch.Shedidn’t open her eyes or show any evidence that she could ever exist outside of her cage at all.
Wetrekked on, passing tree after tree, magic wielder after magic wielder, silent as a graveyard.Possibly, that was exactly where we were.Ifelt each one’s power as we passed, but not as a single hub of magic.Instead, each tree felt like a nodule, a branch’s point which led back to a whole somewhere, feeding theBlightresswith unchecked power.
