The music trailed off.
You are alone now, the wyrm told her with hissing satisfaction. You are powerless and I am all but free and the world will fall before me.
But he was wrong—at least about one thing.
She wasn’t alone. She was never truly alone, even in her greatest loneliness.
Trees didn’t speak in words.
They spoke in slow impressions of sunlight and rain, in memories of cool earth and whispers of wind. Their words were bright flowers and dark shadows and deep roots and tall, grasping branches.
Scarlet knew them, like humans knew the steady thrum of their own heartbeats and the regular breaths of their own lungs.
If the wyrm had been made of anger and false promise, her trees were made of trust and selfless love.
And as she had devoted herself to them, they repaid it now, giving their own life energy to purge the last of the poison from her tree and reinstate her there.
The wyrm snarled, trying to keep her as her rainforest pulled her gently back.
But it was not in its element, and her trees were patient and strong.
The stone dragon does not have enough power to stop me without you! the wyrm hissed, releasing her contemptuously. I have still won!
Scarlet had an impression of a great force, coiling to strike, and then she was standing in a rain of her own petals.
Chapter 25
Mal raged helplessly. “What is the siren doing?” he demanded of no one in particular. He could feel the pull of Saina’s magic song, but couldn’t figure out what was happening, and it made him feel useless and on edge. It wasn’t like his own healing spells, and Scarlet’s tree looked worse than ever.
“She’s drawing the poison from the tree,” Bastian said, watching her almost as anxiously as Mal was. “She did this with me once, with goldshot, and with Wrench, after a snakebite. But this... it’s more than she’s ever tried to do before.”
The dying leaves were starting to shimmer and, after a moment of alarm, Mal realized that they were covered in crystals. Confusion resolved into understanding: they were crystals of salt that Saina was pulling out of the tree through the leaves.
“We’re losing her!” Mal said in despair.
“I don’t understand,” Amber said, shaking her head. Tony had his arms around her. “I don’t understand how it could happen so fast. This soil was just disturbed, but it can take weeks for a tree to leech salt up from its roots. It shouldn’t have hurt her so badly so quickly.”
Graham grunted what Mal assumed was an agreement.
Mal stared at the tree, which was starting to look frosted in the salt crystals, like a great, gorgeous chandelier. It was possible that Scarlet’s magic just moved at a faster pace than a normal tree... but the storm had arrived much faster than it ought to as well; the air was already thick with moisture and pressure and the wind was making the crystalized leaves chime together. Red petals were swirling through the air.
When there were problems with time, he knew where to look.
In three swift steps, he closed the distance to Gizelle and took her face in his hand. “What did you do?” he snarled. “What did you do to her?”
Gizelle gave a wordless cry of fear and despair. Mal saw Conall gather himself to attack and locked the Irish elk shifter into stasis with a few quick words and a gesture.
His focus was still on Gizelle. “You salted her! You tried to kill her! Why would you do this?”
The rest of the staff started to surge forward to protect her but Mal froze them all with a flick of his wrist.
“You told me we had to!” Gizelle wailed. “Your dragon said, She is our treasure. We must get her off the island!”
Mal went as rigid as the frozen staff as he recognized his dragon’s exact words.
“My friend told me I had to free her from the tree so she wouldn’t get hurt!” Gizelle buried her face in her hands. “So many voices, so many places! One of them said this was the only way! Over and over, this was the only way, and there are so many voices and it’s all my fault!”
“What voice told you this?” Mal demanded in icy suspicion. “This specifically, with the salt and the shovel. What did it sound like?”