Elestar Ravencrest's Arc

Chapter 4 of 6

For three days Elestar had watched Rowan and worried. The boy raced through spells no first lesson should touch. But something else pulled at the old wizard's mind. Twice he had seen the boy stop at the tree line and turn, as if answering a voice. Once a shape had slipped behind a trunk. Something followed his apprentice through the tower's edges. Until Elestar knew what watched the boy, he would teach him nothing. He set a snare of his own making. He carried the winged cat to the sill and let it drift out over the wood. Its leather wings caught the wind. Elestar spoke to it under his breath, and its green eyes became his eyes. He watched the ground through them. Rowan walked to the tall tree with the star-shaped leaves. He pressed his hand to the bark and spoke low. Elestar could not hear the words. Then, through the cat's eyes, he saw the watcher step out. She was small and made of the wood itself. Leaves grew in her hair. Vines wrapped her arms and legs. She moved toward Rowan with a limp, as if each step hurt her. A dryad. Elestar's chest tightened. He knew what these creatures cost a mortal. He had seen a student ruined by reaching for what the forest offered. "You talk to my tree," she said. Her voice was flat and plain. "I have listened a long time." Rowan did not startle. "You followed me." "Yes." She stopped an arm's length away. "I meant to sooner. Men speak kindly to trees and still bring axes." "I don't carry an axe." "I know that now." Elestar willed the cat lower. He would not let this happen unwatched. His old fear pushed him to act, to break it apart. He raised his hand to summon the boy home. Then he saw the dryad's feet. Where she had crossed the clearing, the grass had browned. Each step away from her tree cost her a piece of herself. She was spending her own life to stand near the boy. She was not a trap. She was giving. Rowan looked at the dead grass behind her. "That hurts you." "A little." She shrugged. "You are worth a little." Elestar let his hand fall. The threat he had feared was not a threat at all. It was love, and it was foolish, and it was real. He drew the cat back through the window and released the spell. His eyes were his own again. He knew now what watched his apprentice. A dryad, harmless to the boy's body, dangerous only to her own. The fear that had frozen his lessons was gone. But a new worry took its place. The boy pulled the forest to him without trying. Untrained, he drew a spirit from the wood as easily as he drew spells from a stolen book. Elestar could no longer wait. He had to teach the boy control, or the boy's raw gift would spend others as carelessly as it spent itself.