“Could Gustav really use the dragon to wake Mallon?” Brandson asked Alaric the next morning. “I mean, having a dragon obey you is one thing. Maybe you can get the dragon to like you or something. But how do you get a dragon to sacrifice itself for you? Or stay still long enough to sacrifice it yourself?”
“I don’t know,” Alaric agreed. “The instances I’ve read of in which someone was paired with a dragon, it was more of an agreement between the two, not the person controlling the dragon. And those situations rarely end well for the person.”
“I keep hoping that Gustav will annoy the dragon as much as he annoys everyone else, and that Anguine will take care of our problem for us,” Douglon said.
“But it’s possible to control it,” Milly pointed out. When everyone looked at her she went on. “Ayda did it. Ayda got it to do exactly what she wanted.”
Ayda shook her head. “When I touched its nose, I encouraged it to like me. We became friends. I asked it not to hurt us and to leave the valley, it agreed. But not hurting each other is the sort of thing friends do. I didn’t ask it to kill itself.”
“Would it have?” Milly asked.
Ayda looked off into the sky for a long moment. “I don’t know. I can’t imagine asking it to.”
“Do you think Gustav could?”
Ayda looked at Alaric.
Alaric shrugged. “I’d say Gustav’s using a form of influence on the dragon to get it to follow him. But I can’t imagine the extent of influence you would need to use to have a creature like a dragon submit to being killed.”
“Maybe he’ll poison it or something,” Milly offered.
“Dragons eat rocks and dead things,” Brandson pointed out. “It’s got to be hard to find something that’s bad for their health.”
“And he’d need the dragon healthy before sacrificing it,” Alaric said. “The whole point would be to sacrifice a strong, powerful life to provide power for the Rivor.”
Milly sighed. “Doesn’t it seem like Gustav should be easier to figure out than all this?”
Everyone nodded.
“He probably doesn’t know himself how he’s going to kill that dragon.” Douglon smiled wickedly. “I hope he’s terrified about it.”
Ayda grinned. “And he and the dragon will be communicating by thought, which means that if the wizard tries to think about the problem, Anguine will know it.”
“Still,” Alaric pointed out, “Gustav has everything he needs but the body, and he’s moving much faster than we are.” He glanced at Ayda. “Do you think it will take him long to find the Elder Grove on Anguine?”
Ayda’s smile disappeared and her eyes turned instantly to steel. “I can get us to the Elder Grove by this evening.”
She climbed on her horse and, neglecting the path, headed straight into the woods.
They followed Ayda through the trees at a brisk rate. Even though there was never a proper trail, the forest itself seemed to be obliging her as she drove a straight line toward the Elder Grove. There were never obstacles, there were convenient streams whenever they needed water, and the trees themselves seemed to lean a bit to clear a path through the woods.
Around lunchtime, Milly came down the line handing out pieces of bread and cheese.
“I didn’t ask her if she wanted to stop for lunch,” Milly said apologetically to Alaric.
The Keeper shook his head. “Don’t blame you.”
Ayda had sat straight in her saddle all morning. It was probably good that he couldn’t see the expression on her face.
They reached a wide, slow-moving river by mid-afternoon. Alaric realized it must be the Sang River, the northern boundary of the Greenwood. They had come farther than he had thought.
Ayda didn’t slow, just walked her horse directly into the river. The water never even rose to her horse’s stomach, so the others followed her in.
When Alaric reached the other side, Ayda was frozen in her saddle, her head cocked slightly. The others huddled silently a short distance away from her. Ayda’s hair blew slightly in a breeze that Alaric couldn’t feel. She reached out slowly, hesitantly, and touched the nearest tree.
She began to breathe heavily. Then, terrifyingly, she darkened. Her hair, her skin against the tree trunk, the very air around her darkened. Beast and the other horses shied nervously. Alaric leaned forward to catch a glimpse of her face. It was drawn in fury. She closed her eyes for a moment, then her eyes flashed open. They burned a fiery red.
A cry ripped from the elf, and she spurred her horse forward, tearing into the woods.
Alaric tried to chase her, but drew up, having no idea where she had gone. The others piled up around him and looked around the woods.
“Where did she—” Milly began before she was cut off by a scream of rage.
The trees around them shuddered. The horses and riders all froze and looked in the direction of the sound. Alaric swallowed hard and pointed Beast toward it. He had to prod the animal twice before he would move.
Before long, he came to the edge of a clearing. Ayda was standing in a circle of destruction, her hands at her side and her head hanging forward. Her hair fell down around her face, covering it.
The ground was scarred with deep gashes of dragon claws between tufts of grass. A few flowers bravely stood amidst the destruction. Around Ayda, a ring of seven colossal trees lay torn down and flung outward. Their roots twisted up into the air like gnarled fingers grabbing at the sky.
The Elder Grove had been destroyed.
And there was no Mallon. Gustav had taken him already and was probably on his way back to Sidion by now.
Beast had taken a step into the clearing before drawing back under the trees. Alaric pulled him back a step farther. He dismounted, but kept a firm rein on Beast, who was nickering nervously.
“Oh no,” Milly breathed.
Ayda looked up at them, her eyes burning red. They all drew back an extra step.
Ayda walked slowly to each huge trunk and put her hand on it for a long moment.
“The dragon destroyed them,” Douglon said quietly, his eyes wide. “It ripped them up by the roots.” He looked warily at the trees around him. “They’re so angry.” He closed his eyes as though concentrating. “It was beautiful here.” He opened his eyes again and they glinted with wrath. “Gustav made the dragon rip them up by the roots.”
Ayda walked by each tree again, splintering off a piece of each. Stalking in a wide circle, she stabbed them into the ground, like an upright circle of miniature spears.
Stepping into the middle, she held her arms out and closed her eyes again. The ground began to rumble and the sticks swelled. Before Alaric understood that they were growing, the sticks were up to Ayda’s knees. Then her shoulders, then she was hidden from view by the hedge of trees that surrounded her.
But these trees weren’t like the fallen ones. The trees that lay on the ground were green and gentle. The new trees, which were now nearing the height of the rest of the forest, had a vicious look to them. Their leaves, a malevolent dark green, had serrated edges and between them shot out thick crimson thorns.
The trees expanded, digging up the earth with roots stretching out toward the edges of the grove. The horses tucked themselves farther back into the forest. When the trees reached a height well over that of the rest of the forest, they stopped.
“I’ve never been afraid of trees before,” Douglon said quietly.
Alaric craned to see between the trunks, hoping Ayda would come out. He certainly didn’t want to go in after her.
A moment later, the thorns nearest them parted and Ayda strode out. She walked toward Alaric, and he fought to keep Beast from bolting.
Everything about her was dark. Too dark for an elf.
Her eyes still burned red and her face was terrifying. Alaric stood his ground, but everything in him wanted to run. She walked right up to him until her face was inches from his chest. It was like looking down at a fire demon.
“Yes, it is too dark for an elf,” she said. “But I think it’s time you stopped expecting me to be an elf.”
She reached up and lifted the pouch at his neck gently with her fingers. Alaric’s gut clenched as she tapped it, causing the ruby to bounce against her fingers.
“After all, I’ve stopped expecting you to be a Keeper.” She let the pouch drop. And looked into his face again. “Take me to the wizard,” she hissed.