Power surged through Lina’s body, making her sit upright. The tube in her arm and the new one they’d put down her throat pulled at her. Flopping down on the bed in frustration at her bonds, she tapped into the vital force. Maybe the Order had intervened in her desperate situation. At last. They’d kind of neglected her of late. She supposed it was because she’d wanted her freedom.
She’d healed. Life pulsed through her body, and she wished she could yank out all her encumbrances and go home. Where had Brad gone?
So much for caring about her and making sure she hadn’t died. With her increase in energy and vitality, all her anger toward him resurfaced. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth around the horrible pipe, wishing to swat him across the face to let him feel a bit sorry for everything he’d put her through.
After all the sorrow and regret, she’d only started her period. Brad’s fault for leaving without talking to her. He’d ignored her for days until the grief had driven her crazy—made her take to the streets of Paris in the freezing rain, thinking the trees had called to her. Surely that alone had driven her to wander around the city until past midnight, ending with her in the hospital with pneumonia. The uneasy feeling about the Paris trees had passed. She must have imagined it all from the stress of being neglected.
Nope. Not being pregnant brought her newfound freedom. She didn’t have to stay married to Brad. She could return to her home country and start fresh, leave all the painful memories behind, and find a man she felt little or nothing for, someone she wouldn’t pine for if he ignored her or put his own dreams first.
Determination filled her, giving her a shot of extra strength. To her great relief, a nurse entered the room.
“Wow, your color has returned. You look so much better. We were worried about you.”
She mumbled to the nurse to take out the tubes.
“I’ll call the doctor. Don’t think you need oxygen anymore.” She worked to remove the tube while Lina clenched her fists at the uncomfortable sensation.
“I want to go home.”
Within two hours, she’d been discharged. The staff had fussed over her, and, in the end, a whole group of doctors had crowded around her, shaking their heads, scribbling on tablets and notepads of the miracle of her fast recovery. The pneumonia had vanished, but she would have to finish her antibiotics and take it easy. “Lots of bed rest and keep warm because it’s snowing outside,” had been their instructions.
Smiling, she thanked them, wondering how much bed rest she’d get packing all her belongings and arranging a flight home. Maybe she should wait a couple of days. She phoned for a taxi and bundled up to meet the driver outside. After being pushed to the hospital exit in her wheelchair, she got to her feet, surprised at how normal she felt. She’d always been healthier and stronger than others, but her supernatural recovery this time seemed rather uncanny. She ignored the sense that something was amiss in Paris—powers were at work. Why had someone knocked her to the ground and run away? Why had the trees seemed distressed?
Nope, everything had been part of an overactive and troubled imagination. Brad just wasn’t good for her on any front—not for her work as a sage, nor for her well-being as a woman or her general health. She still couldn’t believe he’d abandoned her in her hour of greatest need. The only thing he’d cared about was the baby. When he found out she wasn’t pregnant, he’d disappeared. Probably took a flight back to Austria or Germany for the next race.
While she stood outside, waiting for the late taxi driver, hot tears streamed down her cheeks, burning her already chafed skin. The snow had stopped falling, but the air remained frigid and bitter. She tucked the frail hydrangea beneath her coat to protect it. Pretoria’s winters had never been so cold. Apparently, Paris didn’t warm up in the afternoon like Africa. It stayed cold the entire day.
She stared at the city before her, and a pang of regret shot through her. She would miss the trees here, having formed a special bond with them—especially the one outside her apartment. What would they say if she abandoned them? They had another sage in Nice, not that far. She’d sensed her when she’d first arrived in Paris. Somehow, with her supposed pregnancy, her ability to sense the woman’s location had vanished. Two sages in one country must have been a luxury for the French trees.
She spotted a tree at the bottom of the parking lot. The snow seemed to glow on the beautiful creature, making it almost translucent. She blinked, unsure whether it was real or if she imagined things. Why does it shine so much, as if a kid sprinkled glitter all over its branches and trunk?
A taxi pulled up opposite her. She bundled her overnight bag and cold body into the heated vehicle, relieved to be warm, and set the sweet hydrangea on the seat next to her. The driver liked speed, and she barely managed a glimpse of any trees on her way home. The few she did see seemed to glow like the one at the hospital. Strange. Maybe the Order sent some power my way. Could the trees be healing me? She smiled at the thought. How will I be able to leave them?
But how could she stay here any longer? Brad tortured her. She never wanted to see him ever again. Back in South Africa, she’d at least have her family.
“Merci.” She paid the taxi driver and stepped out of the vehicle, bracing herself for the sharp drop in temperature. The cold didn’t shock her as much as the entrance to her apartment. Where’s the tree?
Emptiness slammed into her chest. She ran to the roughened soil where her companion had been. Just a hacked stump remained. He’d been decimated. How could anyone destroy this beautiful creature? He had so much wisdom. He’d talked tenderly to her and kept her company through one of the hardest times in her life, and he was just…gone.
Hot, angry tears gushed. She screamed into the air, dropping her bag and raising her fist. While she clutched the tiny hydrangea, all her earlier instincts returned. Something was wrong in Paris. How could she have thought she could leave?
What heartless being could cut down a tree for no reason? She had to find out. Grabbing her suitcase and rushing inside, she asked the elevator man to request a meeting for her with the landlady right away.
“I’m sorry, madam, but she’s just gone out.”
“Please, sir. Why is that tree gone? The linden tree outside the—”
“Madam, the landlady is in the process of finding out what happened to our tree. We are just as distressed as you.”
She doubted it but felt comforted by the fact that ordinary humans still loved the flora.
His face was grim. “She told me it’s in the newspapers and on the radio. Hundreds of Parisian trees have been felled.”
“What?”
The man nodded, his eyes sad. “It’s terrible. The trees are a big part of Paris.”
More than you know.
“Here’s the key for your new lock. We had to replace it.” He handed her a key, and she frowned. Why had the lock broken? She supposed the building did need lots of repairs.
Her biggest concern was the dwindling trees. That could explain her illness. But what of a deliberate attempt to harm her? With a dry mouth, sweaty hands despite the cold, and a racing heart, she took the finally operational elevator up to her apartment. Inside, she set the hydrangea on a table near the window then unpacked her bag and went to the bathroom to clean up her mess from earlier.
The area was spotless. Brad must have cleaned up. So, he cared about taking away all evidence of her supposed pregnancy but didn’t have the decency to stay by her bedside when she came close to dying of pneumonia?
“How could he?” She hoped one of her plants would comfort her, assure her somehow that he loved her although little hope remained.
They kept silent. She walked to the balcony to talk to and tend them, trusting the snow hadn’t frozen their leaves. The netting she’d placed over the balcony in anticipation of winter’s precipitation should have kept them safe.
Shivers raced down her spine in waves as she stepped outside. Not a single plant remained.
Brad would never do such a thing. He’d brought her a potted hydrangea at the hospital. So, who had taken her plants? Had this evil person taken Brad, too?
She slumped onto the balcony floor, the unlimited energy from earlier seeping out of her in one blow. How could she survive without plants? No, this wasn’t about her. What about the beautiful city of Paris? If all the trees were destroyed, what would happen to the people?
The French were oblivious to the depth of danger they faced. An evil had entered their world, and she was the sole one who could save them.
But she only knew how to heal trees, not protect them. She would fight for her life, but what use would she be against a powerful evil force?
Of course, she’d have to disobey doctor’s orders and brave the cold. Ten minutes later, armed with three jackets, a balaclava over her face, thermal underwear, three pairs of socks, and her wellingtons, she took the route she followed on her neighborhood patrols. When she discovered that every bit of vegetation had been hacked away, her confidence seeped out. The stark white snow added to the desolate feeling. She continued to walk, hoping to come across at least one of her flora friends.
After what felt like the march to death row, her breathing became labored, and coughing racked her body. Not the symptoms of pneumonia or the bitter cold, but of tree-depravation.
Wheezing with every breath, she tried to think where she’d seen a park in the area. She stopped a middle-aged man, who looked anxious to get indoors.
“S’il vous plait—please tell me where the closest park is?”
He rattled off some directions in French, and she stopped to type them on her cell phone note app before she forgot.
How she wished she’d taken more time to explore the expansive city. The sum total of her knowledge of the place consisted of about a five-mile radius from the center of the city. How could she have neglected her huge and rather awesome responsibility? Why had she felt trapped in such an amazing place that offered so much?
After following the man’s directions, she found herself outside the entrance gates of a beautiful park. Fresh oxygen surged through her. The evil hadn’t reached here yet.
She paid the entrance fee for Parc de Belleville, not surprised she was the sole visitor in the inclement weather. Her heart thrilled when she reached the trees and rattled off the last few hours’ events to them, letting rip all her concerns about the city.
They’d all heard of the horrors of the last few days.
Energy and healing passed through her body, so she climbed the stone pathway and stairs to the pinnacle of the park to get a view of the city below. She assessed the percentage of greenery to buildings and sighed. Seriously short. Paris had been a treed city before the evil had entered it.
A little tree silhouetted against the gray sky caught her attention. Each delicate skeletal branch ended in a round bulb, making it appear fairy-like.
She approached the dogwood and stroked its spindly branches. “How are you?”
“I’m good.” The tree had a good view of the city right on the outskirts of the park.
“Have you heard of the happenings in Paris the last few days?”
“We were afraid you would die, Lina.” The plant sounded sweet with its childish voice. “Something wants to kill you.”
She sucked in a breath. No, she didn’t have time to worry about her own safety. “Do you sense anything else?”
“There’s another sage in Paris.”
“Another sage? That’s dangerous. It can’t be.” It might explain the strange happenings. Didn’t the woman know she was causing shifts in power? But the proximity wouldn’t have hacked down the trees. “What is her name? Do you know?” Could the sage from Nice have come to Paris? Doesn’t she know The Pinnacle rules?
“I don’t know the sage’s name, but he is shielding the trees. I saw him put power over one of the trees along Rue des Couronnes. Look at her.” The little creature shook his budded branch toward a lone catalpa along the street.
The tree emitted the same glow as the one at the hospital. So, she hadn’t imagined it. She had to go out to it to see, to speak with her. “Wait. He? Are you sure the sage is a he?”
The dogwood shook off some snow, and she giggled when it fluttered down, alighting on her eyelashes.
“Looked like a he to me, but what would I know?”
“Thank you, dear sapling. You will look beautiful in the spring. Just get through this winter.” She rubbed its trunk, and the tree sighed. “I have to go.”
While she made her way out of the park and onto the road, she wondered why the other sage had disregarded the warning not to come too close to her as directed by The Pinnacle. Maybe the Order had summoned her. Or him? She shook her head. Can’t be a him. The little dogwood must have mistaken the sage for a male by the clothing she wore.
She needed to phone her mom, find out if she knew what was going on. Why hadn’t the Order told her about these things? She hated being left in the dark, despised being the last to know.
When she neared the catalpa tree that hugged the curb of the road, the glow surrounding it brightened, emitting a gentle hum. She approached the large plant and spoke, sensing it wasn’t to be touched. “Hi there, catalpa tree. How are you?”
Silence. Maybe the tree couldn’t hear her. She spoke again, more clearly.
Nothing.
Could this other sage have cut her off from her creatures? She sensed a good, strong energy coming from the tree. Reaching out, she tried to touch one of the limbs but, instead, pressed an unseen barrier. The shield was a good thing, just frustrating. She needed to locate this other sage.
As dangerous as it could be for her or for Paris, she wanted answers. She’d never known the power of shielding before. Her mother had only spoken of healing or soothing powers like her own. If she located this sage, they might work together as a team. There was a chance the Order had brought them together because of the crisis—assuming whatever problems their closeness caused could be easily ironed out later.
Pulling on her hood and wrapping her jacket tighter to ward off a bitter wind, she set out to find the other dryad while the sun still shone.