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The ocean roared in my ears, a mix of want, rage, and sacrifice. I couldn’t breathe without feeling it in my mouth, couldn’t see anything beyond the pull of magic urging me to give in and become nothing more than magic, let it consume everything about me. If I allowed that, I could do anything. With this ocean of magic, I could defeat Kacha and Bemishu and still have the power to force Ristorium and the Northern Kingdom to bend to my will.

With this ocean of power, I could heal Tallu as many times as I wanted. Only I knew that if I gave in, I wouldn’t want to heal him at all. The magic would take the part of me that cared if he lived or died, and it would be sacrificed so that I could be more powerful.

Choking, I spat out the taste of magic, forcing myself back into the present. It didn’t matter what could be. Tallu was. My love for him was. And I would let nothing take away what I’d fought so hard for.

The poisoned elder tree snarled back at the ice I was pushing on it, at the healing I offered. The Guardian had been built to kill imperials. And the tree had been grown to contain all of the rage and anger and helplessness and pain of the elven people.

Those elves who did terrible things to defeat the Imperium never had to live with what they had done, never had to hold it in themselves. Instead, they pushed all of that guilt and knowledge into the tree, so that some future elf would be able to continue the fight for them.

Only no elf had come. No elf had the power to raise their hand against the might of the Southern Imperium. Not until now.

I could feel the ice racing through the tree, curing old wounds that reopened as soon as they healed over. It was a push and pull, ice magic working against forest magic working against a rage of an entire people.

“I just want to help,” I said.

I reached into myself, unwilling to sacrifice any of my memories, but knowing that there was something I could share without ever sacrificing it.

Drawing from the threads in my mind, I found the vision of the future I saw and pushed it forward. This could not be taken from me, because it grew anew every day, changing in shape and form; I saw it fresh every time Tallu looked upon me, the slightest smile on his lips.

Screaming, I felt the tree try to rip it from me, try to take my sacrifices the way it was used to, but I held tight.

“You may not have this, but we can share it. See it and understand.”

I let the tree see what I yearned for. A future in which no children grew up fearing war. Where peace reigned across the continent and nations traded with each other. Where my mother could laugh.

The orange wavered, growing cooler as ice pushed it out. Soon, the open wounds of rage were nothing more than hurts long past.

“Can you show me how you grew this part of the forest?” I asked.

And with one last shudder, the tree opened to me, and information flooded into my brain.

Eleven

It was too much information, and if this was what they had left behind I knew why Riini had been consumed by the magic. I knew why this tree had never been a true elder tree the way the ones we had grown were.

If the elder trees were a collection of all knowledge of every elf that had ever sacrificed their memories and experiences to it, then this was a more curated collection.

Visions of poisonous plants whose pollen could make someone rot from the inside out blossomed in my mind. I suddenly knew how to grow a vine whose sticky sap would catch insect and human alike, only to digest them and suck the nutrients from their melting flesh.

It was a forest that would live far longer than its long-lived guardians. The elves that had given over this knowledge knew it was terrible. They were afraid of having it recorded in a true elder tree that anyone might access, but were unwilling to sacrifice the knowledge they had worked for.

This magic was too complex for me alone. Alone, I could not grow the darkness necessary to defeat Kacha and his army.

The tree continued to offer me information, giving me more and more until I knew I couldn’t contain any more memories. Then I went through them once more, picking and choosing the ones I most needed, offering the rest back with my gratitude.

When I blinked my eyes open, Tallu was in front of me, Riini still in his arms. With his russet gaze piercing me through, it was as though I were splayed open for him to know. All of me was his.

“Did you get what we needed?” Tallu asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I did.”

Riini made a sound and Tallu’s jaw clenched. I could see he wanted to pick me up instead, but I could still walk, I could still move.

Standing, I used the railing of the bridge to keep myself steady, my knees trembling. I wanted to lie down and sleep, but that would come later, that would have to come later. Something touched my pinkie finger, and I jerked back, stumbling into Tallu, who was firm and steady and what I needed after doing so many foolish things.

On the bridge there was a small orange dragon. It looked identical to the green ones of the other elder trees and I saw it jump off the bridge, swirling with more and more dragonets until it formed into a larger dragon itself. It looked between me and Tallu and I knew in one moment what it was going to do.

“No!” I screamed as it opened its mouth, ready to consume him whole. Joxii made a half-screamed sound of horror.