Recreated (41 page)

Asten gripped his brother's hand as their arms rose in the air. They chanted a spell and the wind expanded, whipping the flames around us to increasing heights. Clouds formed overhead, bumping and piling against each other until the sky became gray and even darker than it normally was.

Fat drops fell, one at a time at first, and then faster and faster until a torrent soaked us. It lasted only a short time, not long enough to put out the fires, but it diminished them at least. When the last drop fell, both brothers slumped to the ground, utterly spent and panting. “That's…” Asten swallowed and sucked in another breath. “That's all we could manage,” he said.

I nodded and took up the search again. I'd just rounded the tree when I sensed something. Quickly, I leapt to the side just as a sharp, pointed weapon slammed into the trunk not inches from where my head had been. I gasped when I saw the black weapon violently wrenched from the trunk, taking whole chunks of wood with it. Turning around to face my enemy, I drew my spear knives and came face to face with a giant scorpion.

Its razor-sharp claws snapped quickly, threatening to behead me while the thick tail towered overhead waiting to strike. When I struck them with my spear-knife, sparks flew, but I didn't even make a dent in the armor-like carapace. I shifted around the tree, the scorpion tracking my every move, following me.

The tail struck again, and before it could withdraw, I seized my opportunity. I catapulted into the air, leaping on its back and plunging my spear-knife between the plates around its neck, pressing the button as I did so. When the knife lengthened into a spear, the demon scorpion trembled, letting out a terrible screech before slumping to the ground, dead.

I heard a shout. Asten pointed overhead. Two more scorpions that had been camouflaged by the massive blackened trees surrounding the mother tree descended, pinchers cutting the air with sharp shearing sounds.

As I faced off with one, the other circled behind and engaged both of the brothers. Asten managed to cut off one of the monster's legs, while Ahmose used his ax to slice off the stinger. Then the black exoskeleton lit up from the inside, turning the creature as red as a boiled lobster. Waves of heat emanated from the monster and then the red color deepened by degrees through the segments of the damaged tail.

When it reached the zenith, fire shot out of the appendage. Like liquid lava, a viscous red gel plastered the ground where Asten had just been. It smoked and fumed, and anything living in the area caught fire.

Some of the liquid hit the already weakened mother tree. She fought against the onslaught valiantly, even managing to absorb some of the fiery liquid, but flames now licked the side of her trunk.

By the time I slew the second scorpion and helped Ahmose and Asten finish off the third, I knew it was too late. Flames engulfed most of the top, the ashes from her burned leaves raining down on my head. Tears of exhaustion and sorrow dripped down my cheeks, and despite the burning debris, I wrapped my arms around her trunk and cried, “I'm so sorry. I wasn't here to protect you. I know I promised.”

A tiny half-charred limb stretched down toward me and tugged on my shirt. I wiped my eyes, black streaks of soot coloring my fingers. “What is it?” I asked the tree. “Is there something I can do?”

The trunk parted and the thin branch disappeared inside, then pulled out the tiny broken form of the fairy. Half of her small body was burned. What was left of her glorious red hair hung around her face in clumps, and she wheezed as if she could barely breathe.

I took the fairy, cupping her in my hands as the limb unwrapped itself from her waist. “What can I do?” I beseeched the tree. “How can I save her?”

The tree shuddered, and a large towering limb snapped completely off, splitting away from the trunk. I sensed it wouldn't be long until she died as well. Leaves trembling on the barely mobile limb, the tree stretched toward it me and touched its tip to my temple.

A matronly voice said, “Take care of her. Please protect my precious Ashleigh.”

“I will,” I promised. No matter how long the little fairy lived, I would try to offer as much comfort as I was able.

With that, the mother tree quaked, and with a mighty crack, the trunk split into two, sparkling white smoke dissipating into the air before disappearing. The once magical fairy tree, the great mother tree and guardian of the Turquoise Forest in the netherworld died a second and very final death.

My shoulders trembled as I cried. Asten put his arm around me, trying to offer his support, but I was comfortless. Carefully cupping the horribly injured fairy, I managed to scrub my face against my shoulders, dashing away the tears that blurred my vision.

I looked down at my hands and gasped in alarm.

The little fairy was gone.

The disappearance of the fairy was soon to be the least of my concerns. My vision was spinning, the sounds of waves filling my mind. The weight of our situation was finally settling in, and all I could do was release a bloodcurdling scream.

Arms caught me and I heard a voice like rushing wind calling my name. “Lily? Lily!” it cried, but there was no way for me to answer. My mind disconnected with my body, and I felt like I was falling down, down, down. And then nothing.

I faintly became aware of the voices. A crackling fire burned nearby, and shadows encompassed it. All at once, panic filled me. I tried to scramble away from the flames, only stopping when I hit something…no, someone, and that someone wrapped their arms around me and steadied me.

“Calm down, little lioness,” the man holding me said.

“Where? Where are we? What happened?” I asked.

“You fainted at the base of the tree. We don't know why.”

Ahmose knelt in front of me. Awkwardly, I sat up and wrapped my arms around my knees. I shivered despite the heat of the fire and rocked back and forth, tears filling my eyes. A small, almost indecipherable keening hummed in the back of my throat.

“I'm sorry we lost the mother tree,” Ahmose said quietly. “There was nothing we could do. We were too late. The Turquoise Forest is gone.”

The keening grew louder. “And the…the fairy?” I asked. I felt like I was leaking from every possible part of my face.

Shaking his head sadly, Ahmose said, “We weren't able to locate her body. We carried you here and, seeing it was a safe place, thought you might need the rest.”

“How long?” I asked numbly.

Ahmose frowned. “How long what?”

“How long was I unconscious?”

“Nearly twelve hours,” Asten answered soberly. “You didn't dream either.” He added quickly, “I was…was monitoring you, but you never appeared in your dreamscape. That means you were knocked completely out.”

I blinked and cocked my head quizzically. “But weren't you too weak to carry me?”

“We levitated and took turns,” he explained. Asten reached out a hand like he wanted to touch my shoulder but then stopped before he made contact.

Turning away, too wrapped up in my own despair, I took in our surroundings. The landscape looked hilly and rocky again, like the Painted Desert. The only trees visible were stubby and filled with blinking eyes that watched our every move. “We're in the Devourer's territory,” I said.

“Are we?” Ahmose asked as he looked around. “We got lucky, then. Without you sensing Amon's heart, there was no way to tell if we were going in the right direction. I just sought the easiest path away from the fire.”

I looked up at the grayish, muted version of the sky and wished there were stars. It felt wrong that they weren't there, but I shook off that notion quickly. We wouldn't see the stars again until we saved Amon. I shifted, uncomfortable on the sand, and Ahmose handed me a skewer of cooked meat from his hunt. As I nibbled on it, I said, “Surprised you found something edible out here.”

“Hunting would've been better in the forest,” Ahmose said. “There's only a bit left of the supplies the tree gave us, and we ate the meat before it went bad. We saved what we could for you, but we needed the energy to carry you. Sorry there isn't more.”

I nodded, and suddenly overwhelming grief flooded through me again. Errant tears trickled anew down my face. “Trees are scarce as hens' teeth in the netherworld,” I said with a sniffle. “The heat out here is fierce enough to cook a grazin' sheep in its own hide. She protected the forest from the worst of it. It's all your fault that she was too weak to defend herself,” I accused. “You shoulda let him die,” I finished, jerking a thumb at Asten.

Ahmose narrowed his gaze, but Asten gasped in shock. I glared at him, my body shaking with defiance as I waited for him to tell me I was wrong so I could lash out at him. “She was more important than anything,” I spat.

Asten stared at me, a cold void filling the space between us. A part of me knew I'd said something extremely offensive, hurt him much more than he deserved, but my mouth seemed disconnected from my brain and my heart broke because of it. I would have expected Asten to try to bridge the distance and offer solace, but it was Ahmose who reached out.

He put a hand on my shoulder and said, “Come now, you don't mean that. You're not in your right mind. You've suffered a great loss, and we weren't much help. I'm sorry about your…your friend. She was noble and worthy and didn't deserve such an ignominious death. Her sacrifice should be honored.”

Sniffling, I nodded in agreement. Ahmose created a piece of cloth for me to wipe my nose. My head felt weighty and my heart fragmented. “No matter how long the day, the evening comes,” I murmured.

“What does that mean?” Ahmose asked.

“My mother used to say it when bad things happened. It means that sorrows will end. We might not know when, but a new day will dawn sometime.”

He smiled. “I like that,” he said.

“The fairy tree died well. I guess I couldn't expect any different from her. She did it once before, so I should'na be surprised that she'd do it again.”

“Did the fairy tell you that?” Ahmose asked.

I shook my head slightly as if to clear away the fog. “The fairy? Oh. Yes. Her name was Ashleigh,” I added morosely.

“Ashleigh. That's a pretty name,” he said.

“It was.” I nodded. “I'm not sure what to call myself now.”

“Call yourself? What do you mean?” Ahmose asked.

“What?” I blinked in confusion and a fog seemed to lift within me.

“You said you didn't know what to call yourself.”

“Did I? That's strange.” I tossed the skewer into the fire and pressed my palms against my head, trying to alleviate the headache I felt coming on. Ahmose offered me a sip from the water bag he carried. “Thank you,” I said as I nearly downed the entire bag, then froze. “Tell me there's more.”

“We have only what Ahmose was able to collect before the fire. Two bags burst in the flames,” Asten said. He pointed to the ground, indicating we had three left. “Ahmose can summon some, but it won't last for long.”

“Then we don't have much time. The forest and the pools are the only pure sources of drinking water in the netherworld,” I said.

“How do you know that?” Asten asked.

“I'm not sure. I just do. Have the two of you slept?”

“We don't need much,” Ahmose said. “If you're ready, we can move on.”

“Good.” I nodded, moving to stand on shaky legs, determination pushing my grief to the back of my mind. “It's time to find Amon.”

We'd only traveled for a few hours when we discovered we were being followed. Reaching the summit of a jagged peak, we paused to take in the view of the wide valley below, and I spotted a dark herd of something on the horizon. “What's that?” I asked. “Some kind of netherworld buffalo?”

Even though I'd asked the question, a part of me suspected—no, knew—it was wishful thinking. Still, I hoped I was wrong.

“No, they aren't buffalo,” Asten said, finally ending the stony silence he'd maintained since we broke camp. He peered down, watching the moving animals for a time. “Is it what I think it is?” Asten asked his brother.

“I'm afraid so,” Ahmose replied.

“What do
you
think is it, then?” I asked, not really wanting them to confirm what my mind screamed was true.

“It's the pack.”

No! We mustn't let them overtake us!
I felt Tia's panic and tried to soothe her, but she wouldn't listen.

“Are you sure?” I asked quietly.

He nodded. “They must've gotten themselves freed somehow.”

“And now they're coming for us.” The three of us watched the pack of hellhound jackals, which I estimated were still a few miles off but they were closing in fast. If we'd been downwind, I would have already been able to smell them.