Page 2

CHAPTER 1

S moke.

Fire.

Screams.

Rance surfaced from deep meditation, groggily trying to separate his human consciousness from his home tree. Still sluggish, he couldn’t process what was happening until pain seared up his spine, snapping him alert.

Screaming, he tumbled from his tree and onto the smoking forest leaves. His back throbbed from the burn, and billowing ash stung his eyes and clogged his lungs. Coughing, with his heart pounding double time, he lurched to his feet, narrowly avoiding a flume of fire.

His tree!

Frantic, he spun around, pushing out enough magic to extinguish the flames scorching the bark. He swayed woozily as magic burst from his thin frame and stole most of his stamina. At fifteen, his reserves were low, andhe could only perform a limited amount of magic. Before his tree could catch fire again, he pressed the travel runes his mother had carved into the trunk years earlier. With a flash of white light, the tree twisted and shrank out of sight beneath the smoldering underbrush.

Rance dropped to his knees and batted away the smoking leavesto uncover a chain with a shiny, silver, stylized tree dangling from its links. He threw the necklace over his head, wincing as the hot metal seared his neck. He’d rather have a minor injury now than no home later.

He couldn’t afford to lose his only place of safety. Trees had to grow a hundred rings before a dryad was strong enough to produce a new one. He remembered what his mother endured when her last one contracted a rare fungus, and she had to grow a new tree. It was one of his few memories of her spending extended time with him outside their trees. Unfortunately, saplings were rare, leading to a lonely childhood.

A swift breeze swirled through the burning forest, fanning the flames and carrying the smoke back at him.

“Mother!” he shouted between hacking coughs.

Where was everyone? His mother would never abandon him in a burning forest.

Why was the Grove burning anyway? The protection runes should have prevented anything from catching fire. Someone would have had to find their hidden location and destroy the wards for this to happen.

It was either a horrible accident, or there was a traitor in the Grove.

A tree beside him exploded with a loud bang.

Rance ducked.

“Focus, Rance,” he whispered. A lonely childhood had ingrained the habit of talking to himself.

“Mother!” he shouted again. Some of the other dryads would have gladly let him burn, but never her. He was not blind to their disdain for having a male in their Grove. Their discontent had increased significantly as he grew older. However, that did not include everyone. Something else must have happened for the entire Grove to abandon him to the flames.

None of the trees around him had occupants, and the screaming that had woken him had fallen silent. Ominously silent.

Dryads would never voluntarily abandon their trees. Had they been taken? Why had no one kidnapped him from his tree along with the others?

It took specialized magical knowledge and much power to de-tree a dryad, and few had enough energy. His mother once explained the process when hepanicked after reading a story about wizards stealing dryads for rituals or potions.

Despite the inferno blazing around him, the silence in the trees sent a chill shivering down his spine. Had his mother been stolen? He tried to see through the smoke, but his watering eyes blurred his vision. His back hurt, his lungs ached, and if he didn’t move soon, he was going to die in this forest that had once been his home.

Swirling white ash would’ve given the illusion of fluttering snowflakes if the trees around him weren’t exploding like bombs. The release of built-up dryad magiccaused the trunks to burst, but knowing the science behind the sound did little to calm his nerves other than reassure him that his dryad family wasn’t shattering along with their homes.

But his mother wouldn’t have left. She wouldn’t have abandoned him.

Where was she?

He couldn’t see!

“Mother!” he screamed, gasping for breath and hoping against hope to spot her between gaps in the inferno.

“Rance!” Her voice carried over the crackling flames.

Relief almost had him collapsing onto the burning forest floor. He cautiously stepped back from a particularly vicious flame.

She called his name again, and he spun around, trying to find her in the haze. He dodged around macabre tree corpses, following the sound of her voice, but with the fire and heavy smoke, she remained hidden.

“Rance, run!” she shrieked. “Don’t let them get you!”

Who? What was she talking about? He almost shouted back, but a flicker at the edge of his sight had him focusing on a stranger in a cloak only a few yards away. The black garment covered most of his body. Two other black-cloaked people joined him. He could feel their staring as if calculating how to get to him through the fire.

Who were these people?

A whoosh of heat yanked him from his thoughts. He had to escape, but how could he avoid the strangers who probably started the fire, even if he made it through the flames? There might be more than the three he spotted.

A faint memory came to him from a year ago when his mother told him the escape route to follow if something like this happened. Had she seen this? Sometimes, the Grove’s magic showed dryad leaders flashes of the future. Warnings to help the Grove follow their best path. Unfortunately, rarely were these futures changeable. Suddenly, the travel runes and magic tracking lessons made much more sense.

Mother had told him she had found a good home for her old, diseased tree in case of emergency—an emergency she’d refused to give details about when he’d asked.

“It does no good worrying, little tree, of things that might not be.” It was one of her favorite sayings.

Now, in the middle of their destroyed Grove, he was almost positive his mother had seen this—seen it—and decided not to share the details.

The memory of her determination flashed into his head as if she was right before him. Crouching on the forest floor, she gripped his fingers and told him. “If your life is in danger, reach for the magic in my old tree. It will take you to safety. When you get there, claim sanctuary from the demi-god Anthony. It will be granted.”

She spent the rest of the day teaching him to trace her magic from afar. He had thought it was a neat trick. Now, he had to use it to abandon his mother. What if she couldn’t escape? Was he leaving her to die? Another tree exploded, and pieces of wood sizzled on his bare arms.

Rance frantically brushed away the flaming debris. Dryads were more flammable than other beings. Now wasn’t the time to test his fire rating.

“Go! Now!” she shouted as if she could feel his hesitation. “Get to safety like I taught you.”

Unable to ignore her frantic pleas, Rance closed his eyes, blocked out his pain, and focused on his mother’s magic. Strings of her power flooded his mind like multi-colored strands of yarn until he finally found the one tugging the farthest away. With a final, choked inhale, he reached out to his mother’s magicand yanked.

Rance’s body contorted in ways nature and magic had never intended. Swirls of lights spun past and were gone before he processed their import. Insanity threatened. Did his mother know what she was asking when she told him to follow the magic? Her magic. Was her desperate plea going to lead to his death? That was his last coherent thought before soothing, magical wood wrapped around him, welcoming him inside.

Cradled in the comforting scent of his mother’s tree and the gentle hum of her magic, Rance fought to stay awake. He had to tell someone what had happened. He had to. Someone needed to save his mother. Save his Grove. Rance struggled to stay awake, but the magical transport had sucked all the energy from his young body. He was asleep before the magic settled.