Chapter 274: Old Friends

Chapter 274: Old Friends

“This is not going to look good on our report.”

Nora’s whispered words reached Syd’s ears, though Jadis was only paying half attention. It wasn’t as though she didn’t care. The fact that Eike had murdered Jonas inside the wagon, either out of spite or a need to fuel her blood magic, pissed her off to no end. The thing was, the dead prisoner wasn’t the only frustration Jadis had to deal with.

“Are you sure Alex went that way?”

“Yes, definitely,” Sabina nodded as she pointed into the dark woods. “Alex and, er, Eike? They went that way, I’m certain. Not a sight I’m going to easily forget. Ever.”

“Alright,” Syd shook her head. “I believe you. We’re just not seeing any signs of, well, anything.”

Well, that wasn’t wholly true. Dys and Kerr were following tracks as best they could, but the snow was a mess, the ground around the wagon churned up. Kerr had found what looked like it could have been Eike’s footprints leading off into the woods, but after a hundred yards or so they simply disappeared. There was just too much disturbance caused by all the wind magic, the demons running around, and the ice dragon dropping a small mountain of a matriarch. Half the trees in the valley had dropped the built-up snow from their branches with all of that shaking.

“Thanks for the healing,” a gruff man’s voice caught Jadis’ attention. “I, uh, appreciate it.”

“You are welcome,” Eir replied with a kind smile. “You fought in the service of the gods and the good people of the Empire today. I hope that those in power see your valor and grant you clemency for your past transgressions.”

“Yeah, right. Thanks,” the Reaver nodded, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

The man, Jadis didn’t know his name, was one of Stavros’ men that had charged forward with him to finish of the demons towards the end of the battle. He was a rough-looking human, middle-aged, and had a striking tattoo of a hawk peeking out of his shirt and running up his neck. He’d fought bravely and made no attempt to run either during or after the battle. In fact, none of the Reavers had tried to flee, though four of them had stayed among the boulders rather than charge with the rest of the soldiers. This man, though, had charged ahead, fought side-by-side with the soldiers, and then when the fighting had finished, he had lined up with the rest of the Reavers and meekly allowed the manacles to be put back onto wrists.

Jadis had to wonder why, all things considered, this man and the rest of the captured smugglers were being so cooperative. They all still had to have the worry that they could be executed upon their return to Far Felsen. They’d broken quite a few laws, not the least of which had been the killing of three imperial soldiers, Achim, Sofie, and Gerd. Jadis didn’t know much about the laws of the Empire, but she had to imagine the penalty for such actions would be severe. And yet, here they all were, even Jockel, lined up and waiting patiently for Eir to heal them.

Upon reflection, Jadis had to wonder if it had something to do with seeing both the three of her and Noll fighting on the battlefield. The difference in power between them and her and her mentor had to be obvious by that point. Stavros could certainly handle himself, but even he wasn’t going to put up much of a fight against her, much less Noll.

Force of arms wasn’t the only reason, though, Jadis was sure. Maybe they really were putting their faith in the idea of leniency from the law based on her recommendation. If that was the case... well. She would just have to make sure she pressed Vraekae for as much as she could get. The Reavers, as horrible as they had been, had done their part during this battle. That counted for something.

“Thank you,” another Reaver thanked Eir. “Gods bless you.”

“May they offer you peace and guidance,” Eir replied as she finished healing the man.

That was the last of the bound smugglers and, from what Jadis could tell, everyone in the whole expedition had received Eir’s healing. As the Reaver walked away to join the rest of his cohorts lined up near the soldier’s wagon, Syd quietly checked on Eir.

It didn’t take long after that for everyone to prepare themselves. They had already been mostly ready to move out to the fallback point to the south of the valley. Gathering themselves, Jadis, her companions, the soldiers, and the captured Reavers all headed down the hill and towards the Dryads.

Jadis wasn’t happy about leaving Alex behind. With no sign of the demonling, dead or otherwise, there was nothing she could do, though. And, if she were being truthful with herself, she was more than a little apprehensive about what sight awaited her once she did find Alex. Her harmless little hatchling had killed someone. True, it had been that horrible blood bitch Eike; the world was a better place without her. Still, Jadis hadn’t thought Alex had been capable of killing anyone. It was just a tiny demonling, barely bigger than her hand, and yet it had managed to strangle an injured but still high-level killer. And then Alex had... what? They hadn’t found any sign of Eike’s body. Did that mean Alex had possessed her? Jadis wasn’t sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, it meant she might actually be able to try and speak with the demonling, an attractive prospect ever since she’d confirmed it could understand her language to at least a limited degree. On the other hand, if the past few months hadn’t done it, the battle against the dragon and the wind mage would have cemented Jadis’ disgust for possession. Even if Alex was a “good” demon, a debatable position to take, possession was objectively wrong in Jadis’ opinion. No good could come from it.

As the main group linked up with Jay and the others finishing off the remainders of the matriarch’s forces, the expedition moved in silence towards the Dryad’s grove. Jack, still the guise of a military commander, rode ahead of them on a conjured black stallion, leading the way. Or maybe Jack was the stallion and the knight riding on top was just an illusion the Fetch had created? Jadis really couldn’t tell, which she supposed was the whole point for the shapeshifter.

The snow falling around them increased as they went, the constant light flakes that had been coming down all afternoon growing larger and more numerous as the valley truly fell into the dark of night. Despite the lack of moonlight, the way before them remained clearly visible. At first Jadis thought Jack was doing something, but as they drew closer to the clearing surrounding the grove, she saw that the light had a different source.

A large opening had appeared in the face of the tree wall, maybe twenty feet from the ground, the trunks and branches having shifted and moved into a whole new configuration that still somehow looked like hundreds of years of old growth. The entrance was big enough for two Behemoth wagons to easily pass through side by side. From inside it glowed a warm, yellow light that was tinged with soft pinks and verdant greens that seemed to flow through the air like water. A sort of tree bridge had stretched out from the opening, tall sides made of trees that were covered in bright leaves and faintly glowing blossoms. The bridge stretched all the way to the edge of the clearing, its roots digging deep into the earth around two large trees that Jadis’ expedition would have to pass through. The sight of the magically grown tree path was possibly one of the more fantastical sights Jadis had encountered during her months on Oros. It was truly beautiful, like a painting done by a fanatical lover of both nature and fairies had been brought to life.

The outside of the tree bridge was no less stunning, but in a far more vicious way.

Giant spikes of wood, some more than twenty feet in length, had erupted from the outer sides of the bridge walls. More spike growths had burst up from the ground, smaller but still sharp and most no less than a foot in length. They covered the area around the tree bridge at a distance of forty feet, all the way from the grove’s walls to the edge of the forest. Dozens of demons littered the thorns, their bodies pierced by the spikes in a horrifying tableau.

“That straight up looks awful,” Dys murmured as she and the others neared the entrance to the bridge that would take them into the grove. “Really, really awful.”

“You split a twisted wretch matriarch in half earlier and crushed the demon spawn that crawled out of its belly underfoot,” Aila pointed out dryly. “I think that’s worse than a few impalements.”

“Yes,” Dys shot back, “it absolutely was and thank you for reminding me. I might need to throw up now. Anyway, that still doesn't mean seeing a hedge of thorns with dozens of demons impaled on it like some insane shrike was having a field day isn’t going to make me cringe.”

“The day it doesn’t is going to be bad one,” Syd muttered.

The short moment of commentary died out as they rolled onto the living bridge, following it up to the entrance of the grove like a ramp. As they neared the entryway, Jadis got a good look at the interior. Her breath caught in her chest at the sight.

A bright, glowing summer day had appeared before her. The warmth of a greenhouse poured from the opening, flowing along with the vivid yet gentle light. There were tall, vibrant trees growing inside, flowering blooms covering their branches. More flowers of every sort that Jadis could imagine were covering the ground, their petals moving in an unseen breeze. A floral scent filled the air, one tinged with the aroma of ripe, sweet fruit. What really caught Jadis’ eyes, however, were the Dryads.

Ten people, six men and four women, stood waiting for them just inside the entryway. The Dryads looked like trees that had decided to take on human form and that had then further decided that being human wasn’t good enough. They were beautiful, yet also wild and alien in a way that other races Jadis had met were not. Their arms and legs were long, almost giving them a stretched appearance. Their skin, ranging in color from deep brown to pale green, had swirling patterns of wood grain to them. Branches grew from their heads like hair, some long like willows and others rising out like antlers covered in leaves. The whites of their eyes were the color of golden amber while their irises were iridescent greens, purples, and blues. Their clothing looked to be made of vines and leaves, yet they had been grown in such a way that they mirrored the look of cloth so well that Jadis barely noticed the difference.

“Welcome,” an older-looking Dryad in the center of the assembled group called out as they neared. His voice was aged, yet strong and filled with a benign warmth. “Be welcome and welcomed again. Thank you for aiding us against a threat most dire. You may call me Yorath. Please enter and find rest. But first, tell me true, do my eyes deceive me, or has a Nephilim truly come to grace our grove once again?”

Jadis’ three bodies came to an abrupt halt as her companions, the soldiers, and the Reavers as well stopped next to and behind her. Had the Dryad just referred to her in the singular?

“Sure, sure, it’s a Nephilim,” the horse Jack was riding groused. “It’s a wonder for the ages. Where’s my ‘Hello’? I swear Yorath, one little dead race shows up and you forget all about your oldest friends.”