Page 65 of Casting Butterflies

I snorted. “Did you not hear Dasha say the mommy tree originated in Infernal?”

“I thought it might be a cousin of the Earth varieties. However, it is quite unique.”

“Is it viable?”

“Oh yes. It’s just waiting for the right conditions to grow.”

I glanced at Dasha. “You heard the cat. We need a hole to plant it.”

Her lips pursed before she nodded and scurried off.

“Keep an eye on her,” Cedric cautioned.

“You think she still wants to kill me?”

“She wouldn’t be the only one. These people have reached the point of desperation.”

Meaning I’d better get that damned seed to sprout and transfer Anivivi and its magic or else.

Dasha soon returned with a burly pair of men who reminded me of Misha. Seeing me staring at them, the woman murmured, “Those are Misha’s brothers.”

Brothers who worked without smiling as they hacked at the trunk. Other people arrived, men and women alike, pale of hair and countenance, some casting me curious looks, others sly assessment. Likely wondering how hard I’d be to murder.

Dasha approached. “May I have the seed?”

I held it out, and Dasha took it gently, cradling it against her body.

She didn’t hold it for long. One by one, those in the courtyard, the number of them growing as the afternoon waned into night, took a turn holding the seed. I could feel the hope emanating from them.

As the first rays of the moon lit the courtyard—barely noticeable because of all the braziers they’d lit—the hole was ready.

Dasha was the one to kneel, and murmuring something in a language I didn’t know, she planted the seed in the ground. Misha’s brothers would have covered it, but Dasha shook her head.

“Not yet.” She glanced at me. “Try again.”

AKA fill it with Anivivi and the magic.

Hoo-boy. Here went nothing.

I went to my knees by the hole and placed my hands on the seed. I tried everything. Wishing for the seed to sprout. Offering it every ounce of magic I had in me. Imagined it in the ground, being watered, and the shining sun causing it to send out rooting tendrils.

Nothing worked. The hard brown nugget remained inert.

I blew out a breath. “I don’t know what else to try.”

“Could be the seed remained inside the trunk too long and went bad.” Dasha stated.

My hands stroked over it, and I murmured, “No, it’s still good. I can feel it. Like it’s asleep and can’t wake up. It needs something to jumpstart it.”

“We tried your way. Now for mine.” Those words the only warning I got. I half turned my head to see Dasha holding a dagger. A really long one that looked wickedly sharp.

Before I could beg for my life, a voice barked, “Don’t you dare!”

“Misha!” I wasn’t the only one to yell his name.

My big, and very irate-looking, elf stalked in my direction, and people wisely moved out of his glowering path.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Misha snapped.