by JL Terra
“Amelia?”
“She was here. Pinned to that tree.” He pointed to the wreckage of whatever she’d been in—a thing, constructed of branches—now lying against a decaying tree. “And then she was gone.”
Bryn tugged her arm from his grasp. “What? No.” She rubbed both hands down her face, irritating the blisters on her palms. “Amelia was taken from the truck. She isn’t here.”
“She was. I saw her.”
“That isn’t right.” She shook her head. “We’re here, and there was a dragon. Right?” He looked at her like she’d lost her marbles. Truth. She looked at her hands. “It burned me.”
“I need you to focus right now,” he said, his tone short. “We aren’t going to finish this if I have to coax you through it.”
“Well I’m sorry I’m having a little trouble with this,” she shot back. “But it’s a lot to take in, okay? A Druid. Missing children in a burning…thing.”
“I never saw any children, but the thing was a wicker man.”
“Like that freaky movie from forever ago that I really shouldn’t have watched because it gave me nightmares for a week?”
How on earth had her mind conjured that up? This whole situation was beyond insane. Like anything and everything from her mind had been pulled into this delusion until she didn’t know what would come at her next. Maybe she didn’t want to know.
One eyebrow lifted. “A few of the more off-the-wall Druids put human sacrifices inside giant men made of woven sticks. They set fire to them.”
She just stared at him.
“He’s trying everything he can to destroy that tree. Including blood and fire.”
Bryn still stared.
“Are you okay?”
“No,” she said. “I’m completely seriously not okay right now. This is insane.” She lifted both hands and let them fall to her sides. “Literally everything that comes out of your mouth is nuts. Considering the fact that I’m the mentally unstable one, that’s saying something.”
“I need your help, Bryn.”
“I’m sure you do.”
He cocked his head to the side and studied her.
“This is my delusion. Of course I’m supposed to ‘help.’” She made quote marks in the air with her fingers. “It’s part of the journey.”
“O-kay.” He dragged the word out. “Can you help me find—”
The entire cavern shuddered. She could hear chanting in a language she didn’t know. From a voice she only heard here, in this living nightmare.
Daire took half a step closer, shielding her with his body. “That’s him.”
Chapter 35
Daire couldn’t see the Druid. The second Amelia appeared, attached to that tree, the old man had vanished. Was she dead? Was she even here? Daire didn’t want to think the worst, but they were on the brink of the world being destroyed. What else was he supposed to believe? Fear threatened to swallow him up. He tried to think on what was true. He had been brought here for this reason, to fulfill this purpose. To stop the Druid from destroying the tree.
That was what was true.
Amelia was here, as was Bryn. He needed to protect both of them. Regardless of what he faced, Daire had to keep focused on what he was here to do. The reason he’d been brought by Providence to this place.
Bryn grabbed two handfuls of his T-shirt, under his jacket at the back. She was with him. He would make sure that was the safest place for her to be. But she also knew enough to not restrict the arm he held the sword with. Her confidence had been battered. Especially the confidence she had in her own sanity. She didn’t believe this was really happening. She even thought she’d made him up.
Regardless, her faith in him wasn’t going to be misplaced.
She gasped. He spun and saw her attention was behind them both. Daire moved, keeping her behind him as he turned.
Amelia hung from the tree.
Bryn broke from him and darted around his body to head over there.
He didn’t want her moving too far away, so he went with her. “Bryn!”
Branches littered the ground, half the wicker man structure now leaning against the tree. Still flickering with the flames that had engulfed it.
Maybe he didn’t believe Amelia was really there. He followed Bryn, moving over the scattered children. He saw them now and most were unconscious. Some had been severely burned. Maybe they were all dead and the signs of life were nothing but an illusion meant to distract him.
Daire was beginning to doubt his own sense of perception the way Bryn had been doing. And likely it was all the Druid’s doing. Just another game of reality vs. illusion meant to tie them in knots while his enemy finished what he’d come here to do.
But the tree was here. And the Druid was nowhere.
So what was going on?
Bryn reached his niece. Amelia hung against the trunk, secured there with her arms stretched out to her sides. Blood dripped from cuts all over her, draining onto the bark and farther down, soaking the soil at the roots.
Maybe he just didn’t want to believe this was happening to her.
“Amelia.” Bryn reached out to touch her. “You—”
His niece disappeared.
Flames roared against the tree. Bryn screamed and jumped back. He pulled her away. “What on earth…”
Children littered the ground once again.
“My God.” Daire tugged her against him but kept his sword ready while he held her with the other arm. He hugged her close, his chin against her head. “Stay with me.”
The Druid’s mocking laughter grew louder. Daire spotted him across the cave, beyond a stream that ran along the floor between them.
“Distract him,” she whispered. “Maybe Amelia will reappear, and I’ll be able to help her.”
Daire gave her a squeeze. She shifted around his body.
The Druid waved his arms in circles.
Daire called out to him. “I won’t let you do this.”
“It’s too late. My plan is already in motion.”
“You aren’t going to destroy the tree. It’s lived too long like this.”
“Diseased,” the Druid said. “Corrupted.” The tree of the knowledge of good and evil swayed against the force of an unseen breeze.
“But living,” Daire said. “Not so hard to destroy after all. Even with fire. And blood.”
“Cursed blood. My favorite kind.” Laughter echoed then, though the Druid had closed his mouth.
Daire’s fingers flexed on the sword hilt, his muscles desperate for a fight. He knew how to fight. But he didn’t know how to kill the Druid. Help me. What he needed was knowledge of how to end this. How to destroy the Druid once and for all.
They had been made immortal at the same time. Daire knew his own limitations and had always assumed he could be killed. He nearly had been by the dragon. That was as close as he’d ever come to death.
He always figured he wasn’t invincible. It would be hard to come back from having his head cut off, for example.
The tree groaned, the same way a house did under the pressure of a storm that would tear it apart.
Bryn screamed. Daire ran at the Druid and swung his sword, distracting him, at least temporarily.
“She’s here!” Bryn called out, her voice laced with pain.
He couldn’t help Bryn or Amelia unless he destroyed the Druid…who had disappeared in a cloud of mist. Claws slashed at him and caught his cheek. Ripped it open. Daire cut off a hand. It fell to the floor and immediately shriveled to dust.
He glanced back to where Bryn was working on whatever bound Amelia to the tree. “Do you need help?”
Amelia’s left arm dropped to her side. Bryn yelled, “I’m doing it!”
Daire turned and splashed across the stream. He ran to the tree of the knowledge of good and evil and then stopped. Would this even work? The fruit was rotten.
He grabbed an apple-pear thing that had skin like a peach. It collapsed under the strength of his grip. He tosse
d it on the floor and wiped his hand on his pants, then picked another. This one looked a little better, at least on one side. He took a bite and prayed nothing wriggled inside. Sour flavor burst in his mouth. Daire chewed through it, swallowing before his stomach could catch up and rebel.
Then he tossed the rest on the ground and waited.
Prayed.
He leaned a hand against the tree and rested his head on it. Daire took a few breaths as his stomach realized the state of what he’d just eaten.
Come on.
His hand tingled against the tree.
Daire lifted his head and looked at his palm. It was clean. Whatever blood had been on it from the cuts he’d gotten was now gone. He squeezed a tiny cut from the end of his finger. Blood beaded on the tip.
He touched it to the tree.
The drop of blood disappeared. Absorbed. Sucked into the tree.
Branches closest to him shifted.
Life. Knowledge.
Amelia’s blood was cursed, which would impart that curse into an already-corrupted tree. Was it enough to destroy it? Daire wasn’t sure.
Just like he wasn’t sure if the tree would be saved with his own immortal blood.
The pieces clicked together in his mind. Why he—of all the people in the world—might have been brought here. Gifted with immortality. Could he actually use his own blood to combat the Druid’s attempt to destroy the tree?
He ran back to where Bryn was helping Amelia down. He held her torso up while Bryn tugged the vines on her feet and broke them. “Got her?” she asked.
Daire lifted the girl over his shoulder and carried her away. “What about the kids?”
Bryn brushed hair back from her face. “Where are they?”
He looked around, hardly believing the floor was clear now. Moments ago it had been covered with the bodies of children. “They’re gone.”
“If they were ever even here.”
Daire laid Amelia down. Her head lolled to one side, and she didn’t wake up. “You think you could get her out?”
“I can try and carry her, but we probably weigh about the same. It’s gonna be tough.” She sank to the ground beside him and sucked in a breath. It emerged from her throat as a sob.
He pushed aside the question of what had happened to the children and said, “I have to try something.”
She blinked up at him, but he couldn’t explain it. There likely wasn’t time. He wasn’t going to risk borrowing more if it meant he wouldn’t be able to at least try.
Daire ran to the tree. To the spot where Amelia had hung only moments ago. He ran his sword blade down the center of his palm and hissed out a breath as it cut through the skin. What was the big deal about one more wound? At least that was what he told himself. Maybe, in order for this to work, he had to give the tree all the blood he possessed.
He glanced back at Bryn and Amelia.
Could he end it all like this?
If it saved the tree, then yes. But would that kill the Druid? If Daire died and the Druid lived, just as immortal as ever, that put everyone he cared about in even more danger. Not to mention the rest of the world.
He pressed his palm against the tree. The reaction was instantaneous. It tugged on his hand. A sucking sensation, as though the tree itself was drinking from him. Great gulps of Daire’s blood.
Bryn screamed.
He spun around and saw the Druid grasp Bryn’s neck with one hand and lift her.
Daire took two steps. His whole body jerked, his hand still attached to the tree. And it wasn’t letting go. He tugged on his hand, but it wouldn’t give.
Bryn choked and gasped. She croaked out his name, almost too quiet to hear, while the Druid laughed.
Please.
He had to help her.
Daire tugged again. He cried out at the pain but managed to pull his hand from the tree. If the tree hadn’t let go, he’d have cut it off. Easier said than done, but somehow he’d have managed it anyway.
But he didn’t have to, by sheer force of will. And so he ran to her.
The Druid raised his hand.
Daire flew backward and hit a wall. Flames erupted around him.
Bryn kicked at the Druid and squirmed in his grip. Wriggling. She clawed at his hand while Daire was pushed against the wall at his back. There was a wall of heat at his front. He was trapped. The flames licked his skin. He cried out, unable to contain the pain of being burned.
No.
He wouldn’t die standing still. That wasn’t how this was going to end. If he was cut down running through fire, so be it. At least he would be meeting his attacker head on, not cornered like a defenseless animal.
He braced and headed right for them, fast as he could. Daire broke through the barrier and swung his sword.
This time his aim was true.
He brought it down before the Druid could disappear, cutting off his arm at the elbow. Bryn fell to the ground.
The Druid screamed. Daire took advantage of the time it would take his enemy’s brain to catch up with what happened and realize his limb had been cut off. He shoved the Druid along the floor, moving him with the force of his own body and momentum.
Daire pushed him up against the tree, grabbed his arm, and pressed the sliced-off end against the tree. The blood soaked into the bark.
Immortal blood imparted to the tree of life. A surge of life to combat the curse the Druid had placed on Amelia’s blood. Maybe enough to stem the tide of what had already begun.
Daire held the arm in place and refused to let go. The tree shuddered behind him, reacting to the sudden surge of immortal blood. Never mind that the Druid had used twisted means to obtain his immortality, catching Daire in it as well, the tree only saw a source of life that was more powerful than what it had been surviving on for centuries.
At the edge of his awareness, Daire heard the dragon roar.
The Druid began to laugh. “Blood. And fire.”
Chapter 36
The exhale of the great dragon—as a menacing puff of air—came through as the dragon approached the cavern. Bryn turned as her entire body shuddered at the realization. Amelia slumped against her, coming in and out of consciousness.
Bryn saw a foot—paw?—she didn’t know what to call it, but the claws were lethal. The rest of the beast was the size of a semi-truck. When it inhaled, all the air in the cavern was drawn toward it. Then that exhale came, hot and musty.
She watched it enter. Daire looked over his shoulder at it. Bryn could hardly breathe, let alone move. The Druid’s eyes gleamed. Even from this distance she could see the malice pouring off the beast.
She wanted to call out to Daire. To warn him. The words caught in her throat, stuck there with all the fear rising.
“Bryn.”
She looked down at Amelia and saw the young woman’s cloudy gaze looking up at her. “Let’s get you out of here.” Without waiting for an answer, she slid her arms under Amelia’s and locked her hands in front of the girl’s diaphragm. Then she started walking backward, away from the dragon. From the two men. The place where she had seen those children was gone now.
Tears rolled down her face as she pulled Amelia to an opening she prayed was a way out. If there even was a way out. She’d sung a song to get down here. How would she, walking endlessly through tunnels, ever be able to reach the surface before they starved to death?
Her legs gave out and she slumped to the ground. Amelia crumpled half on, half off her.
“Bryn.”
Whatever Amelia went on to say, Bryn didn’t listen. She just cried for a few minutes while Daire faced off with the dragon.
Above the Druid’s head, the tree’s decaying branches now grew fat, green leaves. It was revived. Whatever damage Amelia’s blood had done had been reversed by the Druid’s severed arm. It wasn’t cured of all its decay, but life was being restored.
“Bryn.” Her voice was louder now. Amelia shifted and reached down to her foot, where she tugged on the leg of her jeans. Bry
n helped her pull up the hem, where her boot went halfway up her calf. Amelia slid her fingers in and pulled out a handle. A knife.
“What—”
“Take it.” Amelia handed it to her.
“Thanks, but I plan on getting out of here.”
“We have to stop him.”
Bryn shook her head. “I want to. I really do.”
“Don’t doubt yourself now, not when you’ve come so far.”
“Have I?” Bryn wasn’t so sure. What she did know was that she didn’t want to have this conversation right now. She lifted Amelia again and moved toward the opening.
The dragon was all the way in the cavern now.
The Druid had turned to watch her and Amelia.
Bryn tried to ignore him, or at least not meet his gaze, but then the dragon turned to stare at her as well.
Bryn moved faster, pulling Amelia with her.
Daire turned to the Druid and pushed him harder against the tree. “Don’t!”
The dragon breathed fire. It rolled toward them. Bryn set Amelia down and covered the girl’s head with her body. She screamed as heat rolled across her back. The roar of the dragon died down.
“No!” Daire’s yell rang through the cavern.
Amelia said, “Take the knife.”
She looked down at the young woman, then at the tree. The Druid’s blood was allowing it to grow again. She watched Daire swing at the Druid, slashing. He waved his hand and sent Daire sprawling onto his back.
“Take the knife, Bryn.”
Daire could save the tree. Bryn could save Amelia. But how could they kill the Druid?
The tree. Amelia.
That was it.
She looked down again. Amelia shoved the knife hilt into her hand, then covered Bryn’s hand with her own.
Amelia nodded.
“No. You—”
“Do it.” She gripped Bryn’s hand on the hilt. Bryn tried to pull away. Before she could, Amelia slid her other hand up the knife blade, gripping it with her fingers. Amelia bit her lip so hard that blood welled there, but she didn’t cry out as she sliced her hand down the blade.
Then she let go and slumped back on the ground, leaving Bryn crouched, holding a bloody knife. Amelia was right, she had to do this. If she didn’t, then she would never get out of this nightmare.
