Eltrien has barely slept since the second chasm opened. He's consumed with the degradation models, with trying to understand the mechanics of what's happening beneath the surface, with finding a solution that we all know doesn't exist without Kaelren and Elle.
My thorns stay partially extended most of the time now, a subconscious defensive reflex I've stopped trying to suppress. When Vashael tells me I look terrible, I tell her to prioritize the pollen barriers and stop wasting time on my appearance. When Nimor suggests I take a rest day, I ask him how many chasms opened while he suggested that.
They worry about me. I know this. I let them worry, and I keep working.
Because somewhere on the other side of the Rootline, Kaelren is fighting to bring Elle home, and if this realm isn't standing when they get back, none of it matters.
The light comes without warning.
I'm in the command tent with Eltrien, reviewing his latest degradation models, when the ground pulses. Not the tremor of a new chasm opening. Something different. A single, strong pulse of bright light that races through the Root system beneath our feet, visible through the packed dirt floor as a flash of brightness that's there and gone in half a second.
Eltrien looks up from his charts. His marks are flaring.
"What was that?" I ask.
Before he can answer, another pulse. Stronger. The golden veins in the ground light up in sequence, radiating outward from a point I can't see, and the light doesn't fade this time. It builds. The dirt floor of the tent glows amber, then gold, then a white so bright I have to shield my eyes.
"The Rootline," Eltrien says, and his voice is shaking. "Someone is pulling the Rootline from another location with more power than I've ever felt."
A third pulse. This one knocks me off my feet.
The tent canvas rips. The support poles crack. The ground lurches and every Root-bearing plant in a hundred-yard radius blooms simultaneously, flowers erupting from dormant stems, leaves unfurling, the sentient vegetation along the chasm perimeter going rigid and then reaching skyward as if something above them is calling.
White light fills the camp.
I hear shouting. Thrak's voice, ordering his soldiers to hold position. Vashael calling for Nimor. Eltrien is on his knees beside me, his hands pressed to the ground, his marks blazing so bright I can see the bones of his fingers through his skin.
"We're being summoned," he says. "Something is pulling us through the Rootline."
"Pulling us where?"
The white light answers immediately. It surges from the ground, engulfs the camp, engulfs me, and the last thing I see before it swallows everything is Vashael's hand reaching for Nimor's, their fingers locking together in the brightness.
Then nothing.
Then everything.
I land on my feet instantly.
The first thing I register is the smell. Something that smells like a greenhouse and hums like a heartbeat.
The second thing I register is the floor. Root-woven. Warm. Pulsing light radiates from a massive knot of pale roots in the center of the chamber. The knot is cracked open, still glowing, and a young woman with dark hair is kneeling beside it with both hands on the surface, her marks blazing green-gold, her body shaking with the effort of whatever she just did.
The third thing I register is Elle.
She's standing across the chamber, and she looks different. Stronger. Steadier. The girl I watched scatter across time is gone, replaced by a woman who is standing on solid ground, looking at me with an expression that breaks through every wall I've built during my time holding the line.
"Sarnyx," she says.
I cross the chamber in four strides and grab her. I grip her upper arms and hold her at arm's length, and look at her, checking for damage, for weakness, for any sign that the void broke something in her that I need to account for.
She's whole. She's solid. She's here.
"You took your time," I say. My voice comes out rougher than I intend.
She laughs. The sound is startling and a little wet. "I missed you too, Sarnyx."
I pull her against me. One arm, brief, tight. My thorns retract fully for the first time in weeks to avoid cutting her. Then I step back, because I have a reputation to maintain, and there are people watching.
