Too soon, we drop from the sky onto the small wooden platform that’s been built before the tree. There’s a tiny altar here, littered with offerings, among them a doll, a comb, and a simple beaded necklace. Fae honestly brave the broken steps and rickety bridges simply to bring those trinkets here? Is this another mourning tree, or one for wishes? I could ask Bree, but I turn my focus to the task of blessing the shrine instead.
My hand makes contact with the smooth bark, and I whisper the now-familiar words under my breath while bracing myself for whatever dramatic display Danu has in store for me this time.
Nothing.
It comes just as I begin to believe it won’t. The old pine creaks, then the rock beneath us shudders.
Earthquake?
Goddess, is the pillar of rock collapsing?
A particularly vicious shake knocks my balance, and I grab for something to hold on to. Too late. My foot slips. I’m falling, plummeting as my arms scrabble for something to hold on to. There’s nothing.
My wings snap out, and I try my hardest to flap them in the pattern Florian taught me. The wind is too strong. They’re not doing anything, and the ocean is rapidly rising to meet me. My muscles are paralysed, breath caught in my throat. The membranes on my back refuse to battle against the fierce gusts.
The sea is getting closer. Minutes ago, I thought the crystal shade was beautiful. Now it’s menacing.
The muscles on my back tense and release, and for a second, I think I’m managing to slow myself.
It doesn’t last.
This fall will kill me. The impact of my body on the water will break every bone in my body.
Comeon, wings!
Hands clasp my waist. A savage burst of air beats against my skin.
Bree. Thank the Goddess.
“I’ve got you, dragonfly. You did so well. Bring your wings in now.”
The stubborn appendages refuse to answer at first, fluttering with lingering fear until I manage to pull them down against my spine.
Finally, my lungs remember to work. I drag in a breath and let it out shakily. With that first inhale comes a sudden flare of pain in my back, but I don’t mention it.
“I thought… I thought I was going to die.”
If I die now, it messes everything up. My pilgrimage is taking enough time without me being reborn in Elfhame, and probably recaptured by the Fomorians.
“You were so close to saving yourself,” Bree argues, cradling my head into the crook of his neck. “And look, Danu’s blessing is spectacular.”
Curiosity piqued, I glance over his shoulder and gasp. The roots of the pine have spread out in an intricate web, surrounding the perilous steps and bridges and reinforcing them. There’s even a railing to hold onto now.
Well, at least some good came of all that.
“It was good the shrine keeper wasn’t expecting you,” Bree adds. “I’m not sure I could’ve caught two fae.”
I try to calm my still-racing heart as we fly lazily back to the ship. I must not be the only one rattled by my fall because Bree holds me a little tighter than he did on the way to the shrine.
“Danu could’ve chosen a less dramatic way to show her approval,” I grouch as we land.
Most of my court is just where I left them, although there are clear lines of strain around Drystan’s mouth—no doubt from the effort of holding back whatever sharp words he wishes he could use to express his disapproval.
“Where’s Jaro?” I ask, noting his absence yet again.
This isn’t like my shifter.
“He shifted when he felt your fear,” Kitarni mutters. “Lore blinked him away before he could savage any of the crew.”
