Another memory occurred to me. It wasn’t nice. When I’d been a prisoner in Tohon’s castle, I’d learned how to kill a full-size Death Lily. With its toxin. If I sprinkle it on the ground below the flower, the toxin would be absorbed by the Lily’s roots. It would die. But just the idea... I hated it. However, it might be the only way to make those exits safe for Ryne’s army.

Seeds, the Death Lily said.

What kind of seeds?

Mine. It showed me an image of a deer grazing under a Lily. A breeze shook the leaves and a handful of oval seeds showered on the animal’s back. Eventually a noise startled the deer and it ran off, carrying the seeds. Protect seeds. Make new.

Understanding dawned. If Ryne’s soldiers wore those seeds, would they be protected?

Yes.

Will you—

Yours.

But nothing happened. What’s wrong?

Others. Another image rose in my mind. A squad of a dozen soldiers wearing Tohon’s uniforms crept up on Odd and Hogan.

Alarmed, I fought to be released. I need to warn them!

Too late.

Odd spun, pulling his sword. Hogan leaped to his feet and yanked his weapon—a long thin blade. Both had daggers in their other hands. Outnumbered six to one, the fight lasted mere moments. Disarmed and forced to their knees, Odd and Hogan surrendered to the squad’s leader.

Their situation was all my fault. Guilt and fear pumped in my heart.

The leader—an older man with wide shoulders and a powerful build, pointed to my pack on the ground and asked Odd, “Where is your other member?”

Odd glanced at the Death Lily. “Eaten. Damn fool got too close.”

“What are you doing out here?” the leader asked.

Odd refused to answer.

More. The Lily showed me a large number of other squads moving east through the forest.

Not good. Did Ryne know they were here? Why were they so far from their main forces in Vyg? What was Cellina planning? The answer clicked. She dangled Zabin’s strategic military position to lure Ryne south. Meanwhile she sent her forces north in the hope of sneaking up behind him.

The leader motioned to his men. They manacled Odd’s and Hogan’s hands behind their backs and pulled them to their feet.

“Bring them to camp. If they don’t talk, we’ll feed them to the ufas,” the leader said.

Bad. Very bad. I had to rescue them. Right now.

KERRICK

At first, Kerrick fought to remain inside his body and not spread throughout the forest. He concentrated on the vines growing on him. On the moist earth cushioning his body. On the dirt wedged under his fingernails.

Then he struggled to hear the wind shake the tree’s limbs. The call of the birds. The rasp of air filling his lungs.

He inhaled the scent of wood smoke. The mist of pine. The faint aroma of vanilla.

Jolted by that smell, he clung to it. Memories flowed. Promises remembered. He pulled the scent toward his core, anchoring his consciousness to his body. Now he perceived touch, sounds, and smells all at the same time. Progress.

Other sensations intruded. Hunger. Thirst. Cold. Aches.

He awoke. Heart-shaped leaves obscured part of his vision. Sunlight flashed between them as they danced in the breeze. Kerrick tried to brush them away, but he couldn’t move. After a bit of wiggling, he discovered the vines not only blanketed him but held him tight.

Stretching his senses, he reached for his connection with the living green. Except it wasn’t there. Well, not the way he remembered it. Before, it required effort for him to draw magic from the forest. It was a conscious decision to form a link. Now there was no need to tap into the power. It already resided within him.

With a mere thought, he commanded the vines to release him. A ripping sound accompanied multiple stings of pain along his skin. As the vines retreated, cold air caressed his body, sending ripples of goose bumps.

Kerrick sat up. His stiff muscles protested. His pants had been destroyed by the roots. Blood welled from a number of throbbing cuts along his torso, arms, and legs. The vines’ roots had left creases on his brown-and-green skin. He held his hands out. They, too, matched the colors of the forest. His survival instinct had probably kicked in when he passed out, camouflaging him from danger. He’d worry about it later.

He rubbed the ache at the back of his neck. Had he collapsed or had someone knocked him out? Memories swirled through a thick fog.

Slowly the events that had led to his current situation assembled. Seeing Flea. The fight with Tohon’s dead ufas. Cellina and Sepp. The attack on Quain. Avry!

With a surge of energy, Kerrick stood, but he leaned against a tree as dizziness threatened to topple him. He needed food and water. How long had he been out?

He sniffed the cool air. Crisp and sharp, it no longer held the humid earthy scent of summer. A few red, yellow, and orange leaves littered the ground. Early fall. Panicked, he pushed through his jumbled thoughts, searching for answers.

Avry had stabbed Tohon. He smiled. That’s my girl. Flea had awoken Quain. And some sergeant had nicked him with a blade treated with...Death Lily toxin. Memories of being sick made him queasy anew. Kerrick sank to a sitting position.

Had he died? Was he dead? A ghost of the forest? He dismissed that silly notion. He hurt too much to be deceased. But how did he survive? Avry? No, she’d be with him. Plus she couldn’t heal those infected with Death Lily toxin.

And then he remembered the voice of the living green. Had it saved him?

No, the living green said in his mind.

Then who? he asked.

You did.