Book 3 Chapter 12: Where the **** am I?

Dantes sipped water rather than wine as he sat in his living throne monitoring what was happening across the city since the Academy had been sealed. The chaos had largely ended, and now that the news had spread every faction represented in the city was doing its best to consolidate what they had, or take advantage of the situation. The city was dark that night. Mage students who had only just started heading out to light the streets had become a hot commodity and were whisked away to Uptown, where they couldn't do their usual job. Dantes had sent his men to make sure that those that paid up to him were protected even in the dark. He’d ignored the requests for protection from those that hadn’t paid up in the past. Maybe after a night in the blackness, they’d see that there was only one choice to make.

Clay and his sister Hema had finished ministering to Wane and Felix. They’d recover, though they’d likely need to see a temple priest to avoid some bad scarring. Dantes was grateful for that. They would be very valuable now that the Academy was sealed, and they were also likely the only two people who actually knew what had happened.

Dantes looked through the glass ceiling at the full moon above him, letting the light of it suffuse him. The Moon was the Mother’s first daughter, so it made a certain sense that druids would receive a boon when she shone so brightly. He could feel a kind of pull in his arm that still held the leaf tattoos. It had been there the last full moon, and he’d been able to ignore it. This time it was much stronger.

He’d need to attend the druid conclave this time. There was no avoiding it. There wasn’t much he could do at this point anyway. He’d given his orders, his men were moving, Jayk was managing things well. Booze was flowing in the club, whores finding marks with ease, deals were happening in dust filled rooms. Everything was as it should be. Besides which, he had questions that he needed answered. Could he do anything about the disease that was starting to spread? Is there some other way to heal people that he hadn't discovered yet? They may not have direct answers for him, that wasn't their way, but hints or ideas could guide him on the right path.

One positive was that the leaf representing Murk had been irritated and burning for more than a week, so there was a good chance he’d be able to avoid seeing him, or at least see him at his worst. They had a common enemy in Serpica, but aside from that there weren’t any good feelings between them.

Dantes stood with a sigh, Jacopo leapt onto his back and they made their way to the roof. Once there they shifted into bats and made their way toward the mangled tree in the abandoned square. In spite of its withered appearance, Dantes could still feel a powerful lifeforce pulsing at the center of it. He placed his wooden hand against it. A hand forged from the branch that the tree had gifted him. He could feel a kind of connection from his hand to it, but when he tried to solidify it or draw the tree into the network of life in the rest of the city, his connection grew hazy and unfocused as his sense of self began to blur. It was the same feeling as when he tree-walked to the conclaves. He’d been trying to connect all of the different life in the city to the gardens and small hideaways of life that he’d already created and connected himself, but this sensation kept him from being able to do it each time. He’d only been able to connect to and draw from the plant life that he’d had a hand in creating. If he could just connect to those patches of life that already existed, then his connection to the city would grow exponentially.

He and Jacopo found themselves thrown out of a tall tree in a rocky wood and rolling downhill all while readjusting to their sudden return to full consciousness.

He was in a field filled with large rocks, tall grass, and trees all scattered around. It was cool, but not much cooler than Rendhold had been when he’d left. He could sense wildlife. Deer, insects, hawks, hares, but not many rats or roaches. They were there, but they resisted his calls a bit. He could force it, but he decided to save what resources he had until he needed them. As he extended his will, he felt a pull on his arm. He looked at it to see that the leaf that represented Murk was glowing slightly. Had he somehow called for help strongly enough that he’d pulled Dantes toward him? Or had it been something else?

“I don’t like this,” said Jacopo sniffing at the air. He seemed uncomfortable at their new surroundings. Dantes wasn’t feeling much better.

“Me neither, but it seems like our choices are to follow the pull to see if Murk needs help, or to try and get back to Rendhold,” Dantes focused himself for a moment, letting that keen sense of direction that he’d gained when he’d first changed into a pigeon tell him how far he was from home. He frowned. “It would take more than a week. Even if we flew the entire time.”

Jacopo twitched his whiskers in annoyance and shifted into a pigeon.

Dantes did the same, and they both took to the sky, following the pull they were both feeling. It felt strange, looking down at a dark and craggy forest as they flew rather than rows of buildings, seeing only the signs of animals and maybe a few small hunting trails rather than the people milling about the streets. Flying was different as well. Usually they were able to catch the wind that whistled between buildings, but in the sky above the winds they found themselves battered by a more consistent wind that seemed to be coming from between some mountains in the distance. There was also the wealth of life that surrounded them. It wasn’t as well cultivated and deeply rooted as the Viridian Expanse, but it was much more than there was in Rendhold. He and Jacopo had to send away swooping hawks and other predators more than a dozen times as they flew, sending out the impression of fear to discourage their attempts.

He could also feel the impressions of Murk everywhere. A small patch of tree that was thicker than others to shelter a series of burrows. A small trail cut by wolfprints that let small animals make their way quickly from one area to another, with only the cost of possibly running into what made the path. Murk’s touches were subtle, which surprised Dantes given his gruff demeanor. It made a kind of sense though. Their goals were very different. Dantes needed to try to create and cultivate a large amount of life that could live in a city. That meant he could simply focus on creating more. Murk on the other hand, had to work with a large swath of forest that already had life within it. He needed to improve it, without leaving too much of a mark.

Jacopo cooed, and gestured his neck a small plume of smoke rising in the direction that they were being pulled. They closed in on it, landing in a nearby tree. What they saw was a camp. There were maybe two dozen men and women in it, with rough tents, a few small fires, and a small wooden fence surrounding it. There was maybe twenty feet of open ground between the camp and the treeline. Dantes and Jacopo left the tree to fly closer. The men and women were wearing rough clothing, and had bows, spears, or simple clubs. Toward the center, in front of the largest fire, sat resting on a large stump was a broad man with patchy hair. Next to him was a wolf in a wooden cage that had two men holding spears next to it. In the hand of the man sitting on the stump was a leash, and at the end of that leash on the opposite side of the cage, sat Murk.