Page 64 of Casting Butterflies

It might be a friendship rife with insults, but he’d stuck by me, and I could do no less for him.

I glared at Cedric and growled. “When this is all done, I am going to pet you, and you damned well better purr.”

“If we make it out alive, you can even dangle a strand of yarn and have me chase it,” he promised, bringing a smile to my lips.

A smile that faded as we stepped into the courtyard. A shiver went through me, not because of the cold. It was actually much warmer than expected. What chilled me? The deadness that radiated all around. I’d never realized how much I felt life, or whatever it was in the air that tingled the senses. Whatever you called it, this courtyard lacked it, which worried me because if I couldn’t do something about the damned tree, my ass was grass—or would that be bark?

Dasha placed Cedric’s cage on the bench closest to the tree. She clasped her hands in front of her and tilted her head back, eyes shut as she murmured, “When we fled Infernal, Anivivi was but a mere sapling, grown from the seed Ivivina, its parent, spat out, even as the lava singed its roots. We carried Anivivi to many worlds before settling here, where it rooted deeply. For centuries, Anivivi grew, and we flourished. Our people found peace. Lived happily. We also became complacent and neglected to remember the past. We forgot how sly and power-hungry the Umbradriad could be. When one came knocking at our gate, it seemed only right to take in the weary stranger. To open up our home. To bestow our trust. It never occurred to us our kindness would be betrayed. Never imagined such evil.” She approached the tree and placed her hand on it, whispering, “We failed to protect our most precious treasure.”

“You said you grew this tree from a seed. Did you not ever keep any from this one?”

“It never produced a seed for us.”

“And to grow Anivivi, you simply put it in the ground, watered it, and boom, it became a tree that supported your people?”

“Yes, but it also required a sacrifice too.” Dasha’s lips pinched. “According to our histories, when my ancestors planted Anivivi, at first it wouldn’t grow. It took an accident that resulted in a Luxalis gardener bleeding all over the soil and dying upon it before it sprouted. His death gave life to Anivivi.”

Was it his death, or did the tree need someone’s essence, AKA soul? If the latter, maybe I could shove the extra one I’d acquired back where it belonged. If it worked, I wouldn’t have to die.

“Okay, I’ve a few ideas. Let me give it a shot.”

Dasha moved away, and I approached the gray and crackling bark. Could the process to transfer be as simple as touch? I held my breath as I reached out my fingers and pressed them against the rough surface. In the good, I didn’t drop dead. In the bad, nothing happened.

I tried speaking to the spirit. Hey, buddy, I’ve brought you home. You can leave my body anytime you like.

Again, nada. Guess that would have been too easy.

I craned my head and eyed the splintered and brittle branches. I reached out to grab one, and it snapped without effort. If you asked me, this tree was beyond reviving. Still, I had to try, or my blood would be watering its roots.

Since I didn’t know if I should retain contact with it or not, I kept my hand on the trunk, closed my eyes, and wished really, really hard.

Okay. spirit. Time to shove you back where you belong. I pushed at my magic, imagined it flowing out of me into the tree. Wished for the spirit inside me to leave too.

My body turned cold, the palm against the bark even colder. Breathing in had me almost gasping at the chill. I opened my eyes, the lashes limned in frost, saw fog as I exhaled. The temperature around me had dropped. Maybe this was working.

I kept pushing and wishing for the magic—and the spirit—to inhabit the tree and bring it back to life.

“Take cover,” Cedric suddenly yelled, and rather than ask why, I retracted my hand, turned. and hunched just in time.

The tree gave up, not in a gigantic shock explosion, and yet it might as well have. given what happened next. Branches dropped, so brittle they shattered upon impact, spraying splinters, none of which speared me. Thank fuck. I’d never been good with the kind that ended up under the skin and needed a needle to remove.

“What have you done?” Dasha sounded horrified, likely because the tree was no more.

Not only had all the branches decided to collapse at once, the trunk had fallen apart, peeling open like jagged petals, revealing a hollow, and in that cradle…

I reached in and plucked a seed the size of a large grapefruit.

“Guess your plan to murder me wouldn’t have worked after all,” I exclaimed, turning to show Dasha.

Her rounded mouth and eyes held wonder. “Has it been there this entire time?”

“Most definitely, and you should thank Florence for revealing it,” Cedric’s dry reply. A glance had me blinking, for the cat was no longer trapped in his cage.

“How did you get out?” I exclaimed.

“As if I’ll spill my secrets,” Cedric scoffed. “I tired of being confined, and so I exited. Show me the seed.” I dropped to my haunches and let him have a sniff.

“Definitely not Earth-based,” he murmured.