The Eighth Warden Bk. 04 Ch. 03-04

It wasn't like transplanting a cutting after all. It was the opposite, with trees springing from the root system rather than the roots growing from the tree. And unlike a cutting, which would grow a duplicate of the original tree, thus making it incompatible for cross-pollination, each of these new saplings looked different enough that Shavala suspected they were originals.

While the first three saplings grew taller, a dozen more shot up all around the plaza. Below each tree, the roots grew stronger and thicker, bursting through the buried paving stones and stretching far enough down to reach the underground stream. Smaller tendrils surrounded the pavers and crushed them into pieces, a process that would normally have taken centuries.

As the saplings grew into juvenile trees, the ground began shaking strongly enough to knock Shavala off of her feet. Dirt-covered roots suddenly sprouted from the earth in hundreds of spots across the plaza, stretching briefly up into the air before curling back down to wrap themselves tightly around the corpses. More roots burst up, breaking the hard ground and churning the soil, and then the bodies were pulled under, leaving a lumpy, uneven surface covered with loose earth and pieces of broken paving stones.

The roots had returned underground, taking the bodies with them. Feeding them to the plants, as Meritia called it. Shavala's teacher had once killed a man that way. It could be done with any sufficiently strong bushes or trees, but it worked best with tershaya and their massive joined root systems. It was the reason the humans had never been able to conquer the elven forest. With all the druids working together, an entire small army could be made to disappear, with no clue left as to why.

The earthquake died down, but the trees continued to grow, casting new shade over the plaza. The stone walls of a nearby structure collapsed as another tershaya grew up from within it, expanding outward. The falling stone gouged the bark, but it healed as it grew, as if it had had years to recover from the damage.

The trees didn't stop growing until they reached what Shavala would consider to be young adult age, with trunks ten feet across and the crowns topping out over a hundred feet above her head. They were still small for tershaya, but they looked and smelled like home.

The spell came to an end. With her elder senses, Shavala could feel the root system directly below the staff wither and die, as if it was a dead tree, but the staff itself remained alive and unharmed. As the roots below it were reabsorbed back into the soil, the staff came loose, no longer attached to the system it had created.

Shavala held it steady, using it to brace herself as she climbed back to her feet. She stared out at the tiny forest. It wasn't much in the scheme of things, but in such a desolate place, even this small start was enough to provide a sense of hope.

There was noise behind her, and she turned to find Corec, Katrin, and Ellerie staring at the tershaya trees in shock. Most of the others were running up behind them. They all looked at her, questions in their eyes.

She shrugged. "I wanted to try something," she told them.

Life. Death. Life. Not words but concepts. Feelings. It was the first time the staff had communicated since the battle.

Yes, Shavala agreed.

#

Ellerie didn't have a chance to corner Shavala alone until after the group had gotten underway. She found her walking near the front of the procession to avoid the dust clouds raised by the wagons.

"How did you do it?" Ellerie asked. "I've never seen anything like that."

"It wasn't really me," Shavala said. "The staff did all the work."

She'd said that right after growing the trees too, but Ellerie had been too stunned to question her about it then. Shavala had admitted that the staff was enchanted, but it didn't glow to arcane sight, and Ellerie had never heard of an enchantment constructed from elder magic. She hadn't known it was possible.

"How did the Chosar manage to create something that can grow tershaya?" Ellerie asked. "The nilvasta have been trying for thousands of years and we haven't had any luck."

"I don't think it belonged to the Chosar. It's elven magic, and it was elves that carried it in the visions. It was around for a long time before it ended up in that mountain."

"The Chosar took it from us?"

"I don't know. That wasn't one of the visions."

Ellerie sighed. "It seems like the more we learn, the less we know. Do you think you could do it again? Grow tershaya, I mean?"

"I'm not sure. I wasn't trying to grow them this time. I accidentally thought about a forest, and it just happened."

"Would you be willing to try?"

Shavala cocked her head to the side. "Here?" she asked, her tone puzzled. "Why?"

"Not here. In Terevas. My mother has invited dorvasta druids to try to grow a new forest, but we only ended up with some small groves and scattered trees."

"It's difficult to cultivate new tershaya trees." Shavala looked down at the staff. "Or it always has been before. They're capable of growing on their own, but if there's a fire or if they're being harvested, they don't grow fast enough to replenish their own numbers, so we have to help them along. We normally plant just enough cuttings or fertilized seeds each year to compensate for the number of trees that have been lost. The druids might not have had enough to spare for you."

"In the last five hundred years, Terevas has lost just as many trees as we've planted," Ellerie said. "We keep records at the Glass Palace."

"Tershaya have always done better in the Terril Forest, since they can join the existing root system."

Ellerie furrowed her brow. "You mean the tree bond?"

"No." Shavala paused. "No, and yes. The shared root system is how the trees bond with each other, but it also makes it easier for individual trees to stay healthy regardless of the condition of the nearby soil. But yes, the tree bond is important too—both the bond between the trees themselves and their bond with the people. We always know when one of the tershaya is unhealthy."

Ellerie sighed. "Then it's pointless? How can we keep them alive without the tree bond?"

Shavala glanced at her. "Nilvasta are still elves. The tree bond isn't gone, it's just ... different. I still feel it in you, but I can't predict when you're going to talk, or whether you're going to agree or disagree with whatever's been said. The bond is there, but it doesn't work the same way."

"Ariadne thinks it's because we have too much human blood. Well, human or Chosar."

"Do you believe her?"

"It makes as much sense as anything," Ellerie said. She doubted her people would accept the idea, though, and she had no intention of being the one to tell them. "If there's something of the tree bond left in the nilvasta, do you think we could take care of a forest if you grew one?"

"I'm not sure, but I'll try if you'd like. I do want to see Terevas before my travels are over."

Ellerie had a sudden thought. "What about the trees you grew here? Will they be all right on their own?"

"For now, but the ecosystem isn't large enough or diverse enough to sustain them, tree bond or not, and the barren soil is still mixed in with the better soil from below the surface. The trees will need help. I'd like to return here with you when you come back."

Ellerie hadn't considered that any of the others might come with her, other than Boktar perhaps, and the vague hope that she and Leena would have a closer relationship by then. Shavala was enigmatic, but she was also a capable companion on the road, and she had the calming presence of a dorvasta.

"I'd like that," Ellerie said.