Taboo Online

Luke met Aelira’s eyes. A few days earlier, he might have promised to drag her through the passage if she refused. That kind of answer would have been easy, but it no longer fit what had grown between them.

"I’ll hold the bridge until she gets across," he said. "After that, she can yell at me from Earth if I did something wrong."

Aelira’s expression shifted, though exhaustion kept it from becoming a proper smile.

"You assume there will be only one thing."

Luke rested his head against the root behind him. "I’m sure you’ll make a list."

The Thornmender studied him for another moment before nodding, then crossed the terrace toward Kellan.

He looked up as she approached. His injured leg remained stretched in front of him, surrounded by Iris’s golden lifeline.

"What?"

"I may not be here when that anchor is needed elsewhere."

Kellan’s expression changed.

The Thornmender knelt beside his thigh and opened what remained of her medical bundle. She removed a living thorn, several strips of white bark, and the last roll of clean binding cloth.

Iris moved closer. "What are you doing?"

"Buying you another option."

The Thornmender slid one hand beneath Kellan’s thigh without lifting it. With the other, she pressed the living thorn carefully through a gap in the damaged armor.

Kellan’s fingers tightened around the rail as the thorn began to glow. Restorative mana traveled through it and into the damaged tissue, and the Thornmender worked slowly, using what little power remained to reach the deeper injury and slow the internal bleeding around the worst of the tears.

"Don’t move," she said.

"I wasn’t planning to."

The glow lasted only a short time before fading.

The Thornmender removed the thorn and looked toward Iris. "I cannot repair the muscle. The three tears are still there."

"Did you stop the bleeding?"

"Slowed it. That is all I had enough mana to do."

She positioned the strips of white bark along both sides of Kellan’s thigh and bound them tightly in place without disturbing the lifeline.

Kellan looked down at the splints. "So this replaces Iris?"

"No. The lifeline is still doing more for you than anything I just did."

The Thornmender tightened the final knot.

"These splints will only keep the leg from shifting as easily if she has to move the anchor. If that happens, the leg stays exactly where it is. You do not stand, crawl, turn your hip, or decide another emergency gives you permission to ignore me."

Kellan looked at her for a moment. Earlier in the battle, he probably would have argued.

Now he lowered his gaze toward the bound thigh. "I understand."

The Thornmender turned to Iris. "If the bleeding becomes heavy again, the lifeline goes back immediately."

"I won’t wait."

Satisfied, the healer rose.

The Heartroot pulsed beneath them as Lauren’s confirmation finally returned through the bridge. The destination network had completed another recovery cycle.

The Thornmender looked toward the passage. Her time had come.

She stepped toward Aelira and embraced her Queen without warning.

Aelira froze for a heartbeat before one arm slowly rose and settled across the healer’s back. Neither woman spoke, and no one nearby tried to fill the silence for them.

When they separated, the Thornmender bowed. Aelira caught her shoulder before she could turn away.

"Find the children first. Make sure the human healers understand which wounds still carry traces of corruption."

"I will."

"And when another healer replaces you, let them."

A faint smile appeared on the Thornmender’s face.

"You first, my Queen."

She entered the passage before Aelira could answer, and the green light closed around her.

The last native presence besides Aelira had left the sanctuary.

A system window opened before Luke, Iris, Kellan, and Dorian.

[Native resident count: 1.]

[Final native resident evacuation pending.]

No one sent Aelira after the Thornmender immediately. The bridge needed another recovery cycle, and Aelira seemed to know exactly how she intended to use the time.

The Heartroot pulsed beneath her feet.

She closed her eyes and rested one hand against the living wall. "Yes," she whispered. "I know."

Luke felt the core answer beneath his palm.

Aelira made her way toward the central tree. Without the Thornmender beside her, silver roots rose beneath each step and steadied her whenever her legs weakened. Iris kept the golden lifeline tight around her ribs, and by the time Aelira reached Luke, much of her weight was already resting on the Heartroot.

Luke watched another root curl beneath her heel.

"Tell me what you need."

Aelira glanced at him. There had been a time when he would have asked whether she needed help and expected her to refuse on principle.

Now neither of them bothered with that dance.

"Keep the core open."

Luke looked at the roots wrapped around his wrist and forearm. His fingers barely moved anymore.

"The tree’s doing most of that for me."

"That is enough."

Aelira placed both hands against the Heartroot. Silver-green light spread from beneath her palms and climbed through the trunk, dimming the empty sanctuary as more of its remaining glow gathered inside the central tree.

She closed her eyes.

The first memory reached Luke through the core before he understood what was happening.

Children ran beneath silver branches while several adults talked nearby. The scene lasted only a moment before a crowded market replaced it, filled with elves moving between baskets of food, carved tools, white-wood ornaments, and bundles of dark green leaves.

Another memory followed. A young defender practiced with a living blade beneath the Heartroot’s shade while someone laughed from a balcony covered in pale flowers. Nearby, two older elves argued while carrying the same heavy basket in opposite directions.

Luke did not recognize anyone, and after several moments, he understood that he was never supposed to. His contact with the core merely allowed him to feel the memories as the Heartroot gathered them.

Families shared meals beneath living roofs. Thornmenders worked beside injured hunters, children climbed branches they had almost certainly been told to stay away from, and old hands pressed seeds into dark soil while silver roots curled around them.