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Already exhausted, I refused to give in, doubling down and making sure the foreign magic understood, in no uncertain terms, that Martin’s magic was off limits. I’m not certain how or why it worked, only that after a brief battle, the foreign magic receded, drifting back toward one of Martin’s many branches.
My wisp form fell to the ground, hovering just above its surface as I attempted to reorient myself. My magic was reluctant to ease down and continued its vigilance around the scant piece of Martin I still contained.
Great whooshes of displaced air could be heard, coming in from the east and moving ever closer. Three large, dark forms took shape on the horizon. Their movements made it clear who, or perhaps, what, they were. Wyvern. Thalia’s entourage had arrived. They’d arrived too late.
I could no longer feel where Martin was. His oak tree form gave way where he was located, but that was visual, not internal. Fear and agony fought for pride of place in my emotional meltdown. I still had no idea what had happened, what Martin had done, but what I did know was that it wasn’t good, not for him. Not for us.
The wyvern grew closer, and with no other thought than the absolute need to get to Martin, I rose from the ground and flew to the central area of Martin’s canopy. This was his courtyard. Martin’s trunk would be below, his roots deep within his birth soil. Diving down, I felt powerful magic wash over me. It felt like a ward of some type, yet stronger than any warding I’d ever encountered. It was as if the magic touched every atom within me, testing and measuring its worth and intention. The barrier was thick and at times felt as if I were pushing through molasses. I kept going, forcing my magic forward, diving deeper.
I knew the second I was through the barrier. Immense silence momentarily filled the air. That silence was disrupted by the soft, melancholic background sound of sobbing. Keir’s voice rose above the sobs, his cries of “what have you done?” followed by, “Martin, answer me!” filled the void.
Keir knew Martin wouldn’t be able to answer him in his tree form. That didn’t stop him from shouting, his voice continually raising to higher and higher pitches of anxiety.
“Martin?” I thought. We’d been able to communicate before, when he was in his tree form and I was in my wisp one. Aching silence was my only response.
“Martin, please.” I mentally tried again with the same agonizing nothing.
Landing, I finally reverted to my humanoid form. My hands immediately fell on Martin’s trunk, caressing the bark as I asked, “What happened?” When no one answered, I turned my head and barked, “Tell me what happened!”
Jima’s sobs increased. He was sitting on the floor, Tabitha cradled within his arms. The shallow rise and fall of her chest let me know the medium was still alive, though apparently unconscious. Keir stood a few feet away, a blanket bundle in his arms that I could only assume held wyvern eggs.
It was Henry that finally answered. He was sitting atop Tabitha’s head, arms crossed over his chest, the look on his face murderous. “He did somethin’ incredibly stupid,” Henry stated. He sounded pissed, but that rage was muted by something else—sorrow. “Idiot decided to play hero and sacrifice himself for…” Henry’s tirade ended in a growl as he viciously swiped the tears from his face, leaving little more than dirty smudges behind.
All the energy drained from my body as I slumped against Martin’s trunk. “Wh-what? I mean… I don’t understand. What did Martin do?” Jima wouldn’t meet my eyes. Tabitha was passed out and Henry seemed to be choking on whatever words he was trying to form. That left Keir.
“Talk to me, Keir. What did—”
“I’m not sure how, but Martin became the conduit for the buzzweeds. He…he accepted the pixie magic and—”
The word “no” left my throat in a bitter gasp. “But Martin told me that might…” I knew what he’d said, that this kind of pixie magic would most likely be too much for another to handle, that it could burn through their magic or maybe replace it, or… I didn’t think anyone knew for certain. Martin hadn’t been sure. And yet he’d done it anyway. He’d become the sacrificial lamb. It made sense now, that bitter taste of apology he’d sent my way, as if that would make any of this better.
My knees shook. I didn’t fight the downward pull. I fell to the ground, my hands never once leaving Martin’s trunk. It didn’t feel like Martin. His magic wasn’t there. Only hard, harsh wood. His branches didn’t move to surround me. No leaves stroked my cheek. The Martin I loved wasn’t there any longer. My most important treasure was gone.
The piece of his magic I still contained wailed within me as my own magic moved to console it. Tears fell from my eyes, dripping to the ground below. Pressing my forehead against Martin’s trunk, I let the tears come. Keir’s palm rested on my back. At some point, Henry had scurried up my arm and was now perched on my shoulder. His voice was tender when he said, “I’m so sorry, Gray. I can’t… What Martin did was stupid. We don’t even know if it worked or—”
“It worked,” I managed between sobs. “I saw it. The magic threw Verona back. And I felt it when I traveled through the barrier in my wisp form. I can’t say if its pixie magic or not, but there’s a powerful-as-fuck barrier surrounding the area and I don’t think it’s letting anything pass that means anyone in here harm.”
Keir inhaled sharply while Henry muttered a “damn” that I wasn’t certain how to interpret and cared even less at this point.
Hand leaving my back, Keir’s voice was soft when he asked, “And Lazarus, did you see what happened to him?”
I shook my head. “I’m not sure. All I can say is that he was lying on the ground and looked pretty beat up. I don’t know if… I just don’t know.” Pulling up my shirt, I rubbed the snot from under my nose. “The other wyvern are here.”
Keir jerked back. “Thalia’s wyvern?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know for certain. I just know there were more on the horizon. I didn’t wait around for them. I just wanted to get here, to Martin. I…” I really wasn’t sure what else to say. I felt like I’d failed. I should have tried to get Verona’s attention. I should have tried to lead her away instead of her brother, Axios. Maybe things would have been different then. Maybe Lazarus would have had a better chance against him.
Fuck, I didn’t know. I knew I’d spend what remained of my life second-guessing myself. How was I supposed to go on from this? Now that I knew what Martin’s love felt like, what loving him in return felt like, how was I supposed to live? I’d survive, but what joy would there be? There would be moments of happiness, but something would always be missing. And that something was Martin.
Leaning against his trunk, I knew I could never leave. If this was all I had left of him, then I would stay and make sure his tree was loved and well cared for. Nothing would touch it. No harm would come to Martin. I wouldn’t allow it. Barrier or no barrier, if the wyvern eggs deemed us unworthy, I would fight to the death to keep Thalia and her wyvern from harming a single oak leaf.
That small piece of Martin’s magic pulsed within me, reminding me I wasn’t completely alone, that I had managed to save and protect that smallest of parts, that wonderfully warm and loving aspect of a dryad I’d inexplicably fallen in love with.
Placing my hand over my chest, I desperately wished I could hold that speck of magic in my hand. It wasn’t as good as having Martin himself, but at least it was something. It was a part of him and… My body stilled, my brain coming to a full and complete stop. My head tilted down, staring at my chest as if I could see Martin’s magic within me.
Licking my dry and cracked lips, I blinked the tears away, my eyes crusty and itchy as my salty tears sucked all the moisture from them.
My heart hammered and the tiniest kernel of hope wiggled its way into my psyche. It was the kind of hope one tried not to cling to, not to grasp too tightly and count on too much. It was the kind of hope that seemed impossibly out of reach and yet enough within sight to make your toes tingle.