Dauntless struggles forward. He has less pop in his step now, and moves slower because of the terrain. His hooves scuttle along the uneven roots and his legs nearly slide out from under him, but he manages to stay upright as I bounce along in my seat above.

Enemy animals are closing on us.

A cat sees our weakness and lounges for Dauntless’s wound, seeking to finish the job that the last one started. I swivel in my seat and strike downwards at the predator as it extends its claws toward my mount. My sword punctures the feline’s back but not before the claw digs in and a fresh gash spreads across Dauntess’s rear. The horse groans and collapses in pain and I curse my slow response.

“I don’t know, sire, how much more I can go.”

We’re not going to make it.

“Dauntless,” I whisper to my steed, “I need one more burst. That’s all. Just give me one more push and I can end this. I swear it.”

The horse groans.

I lean in close. “I can’t do this without you, boy. Please try.”

And with a mighty heave Dauntless is on his feet.

Another cat is closing in.

“Now, Dauntless. Now!”

The cat slashes but Dauntless leaps forward and the black claws only shred his tail as the horse crashes toward the tree.

I see Myran racing toward us, trying to cut us off.

“Hurry, boy,” I shout. But it’s all Dauntless can do to just keep moving, and he doesn’t have his usual explosiveness. We approach the tree and I stand-up, balancing on the back of the galloping horse. It’s a crazy thing to do but I only need a second for my plan to work. Myran closes in and lunges at me, trying to knock me off, but I jump just before he hits me.

I raise my blade in the air. The sword drips with red blood from the animals and green gunk from the husks, colors that once reminded me of Christmas life now make me think of the death I’ve caused, the death this spirit forced me to cause.

“Your turn,” I yell and slam my blade into her face. The point gauges the nose and plunges into the trunk. I hold on as it sinks deeper and deeper, until the hilt itself is against the trunk and I am hanging in the air like some kind of insane circus performer.

The dryad’s eyes are wide and stunned as they looked down at the hilt jutting from the bark. Her mouth opens and its voice is sad, laced with regret. “We could have been so much more, Ethan.”

The bark starts to crack and the crack starts spreading. Veins within the body begin to grow and pulse. The dryad groans in agony. There is deafening silence in the wood and for a moment it’s like time itself has stopped.

The spirit’s scream is thunderous, like and artillery barrage on the field of battle. Green energy explodes through the top of the tree, like a cork coming off champagne. It shoots into the sky faster than any flair I’ve ever seen. Then the trunk itself bursts apart in a shower of wood and green flame.

I fly backward, my torso tumbling through the air and my limbs flapping about so uncontrollably you’d think I was a lost monkey looking for a branch to grab. In reality I’m so disoriented I can’t even tell how close I am to the ground, and am definitely unable to fully brace my own fall or stop my head from whacking hard against the curdling tree roots.

----------------------------------------

“What have you done?”

I bolt awake at the sound of the voice. I try to sit-up but find that I’m already standing. A woman is staring at me, fear on her face, her body quivering with fear.

“I didn’t do anything,” I say instinctively.

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Wait, yes I did, I just saved the woods, and the elves, and the animals. Or I tried to at least. Anyway, I didn’t do anything wrong.

“What have you done??” The girl asks again, even more urgently.

I step forward and hold a finger in the air as I prep a mighty reponse to be delivered with great gusto and a touch of resentment for not having my efforts duly appreciated. I then intend to follow-up said outrage with a much more polite question regarding how successful said efforts actually were.

Then I notice her eyes. They aren’t tracking my movements. In fact, nothing about her body changes as I approach. I wave a hand in front of her face. Nothing. She’s staring past me, through me. Dumbly, I turn to follow her sight.

On the other side of the room I see the sorceress and finally understand why the girl ignored me: she can’t see me. I’m back in the Tower of Magi again and am the passive observer of history.

Not the most convenient time for this.

But I don’t have any control over when the visions come. When I last left this merry crew the sorceress and her amiga were about to get jailed for all eternity by the directress for breaking into her private quarters to see the onyx stone. Then the sorceress had touched the stone and I’d flashed back to my present time. The situation now is exactly the same except the directress is just a puddle of ashes on the floor.

“What have you done???” Gwen asks again.

The sorceress looks at her friend, dazed and confused herself. “I didn’t mean to…she was going to imprison us…I don’t know what happened.”

“What happened is that she’s dead!”

“I can see that!” Lillian snaps

The sorceress’s eyes are bloodshot. Her skin looks hot, like it’s on fire, and there are traces of…purple.

Like at the castle.

“We have to get out of here,” the sorceress says.

Gwen is exasperated. “Out of where? This room? What good will that do?”

“We can prove my theory. The directress and the king were in on it together: to steal the onyx stone.”

“Your theory???” Gwen is shrieking now. “To the blazes with your theory. Which is where we’ll both end up soon enough. Once the guardians arrive. We’ll be done ”

“We can sneak past them with the stone.”

“With the stone? Are you mad?? The whole reason you wanted to come here was to prove to me that the directress had broken the deepest law in the tower and touched the darkness. Now you want to do the same thing.”

The sorceress shakes her head. “No, this is different.”

Gwen laughs, a desperate howling noise.

“Shhh,” says the sorceress. “You’ll bring the guardians.”

“You think that they don’t already know? That sound of the magic hasn’t woken the whole tower?”

A new voice enters the conversation. “There’s another way.”

The women turn toward the noise and I’m right there with them. When I see her my jaw drops. The grey skin, the dark lips, the red eyes, the perfect tits. It’s all there.

My demon.

Gwen shrieks. Even the sorceress takes a step back. Gwen closes her eyes, curls her fists, and shoots a blue light at the demon, trying to trap her in a crystal much the same way the directress tried with Lillian.

The demon just smirks as the light goes through her. “Someone needs to pay better attention in their classes I see,” the demon says casually. “Though I can’t blame you if you drifted off. Teachers are among the most boring people alive, am I right?”

Gwen backs away to the opposite wall. She glares at the sorceress. “You did this.”

“Me? How did I do it?”

“You summoned a demon with that stone. A demon in the tower of Magi.”

“I did no such thing,” the sorceress retorts.

“Then why is she here?”

The demon puts her palms out. I can’t help but notice how differently dressed she is for the ladies. Gone is the skimpy outfit, replaced with a long white gown. Simple and elegant yet so non-threatening.

“I’m here to help,” replies the demon, “if you need it of course. I’d never presume to dictate to women as wise as yourselves.”

“We’re not wise,” says Gwen.

“Not wise,” the demon asks with mock surprise and looks to the sorceress. “Why nobody else figured out that the direcress had taken the onyx stone.” She moves to Gwen. “And no one else had the good sense and courage to follow her friend. To trust her that she was onto something. That seems like sound wisdom to me.”

“You have a poor definition of wisdom then,” says the Gwen.

The demon bows her head. “I do have much to learn. But perhaps in your wisdom you might at least consider an idea I have to offer. Something to help you with your current predicament.”

Gwen turns to the sorceress. “We shouldn’t even be talking to her.”

The sorceress scoffs. “It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?” She turns to the demon. “Very well spirit, what do you suggest?

The demon smiles. “My lady, I think I have a better idea than fleeing the tower.”

“Which is?”

Her red eyes flash. “Destroy it.”