Taboo Online

Luke looked from the warning above the sixth anchor to the one pulsing beneath the seventh. The explosions had come from opposite sides of Lethariel. One shook the upper roots carrying survivors from the western districts, while the other traveled through the lower network and rattled the terrace beneath their feet.

The reinforcements had been sent to protect the remaining anchors, but the people mattered more now.

Luke looked past the system warnings to the roads crowded with wounded elves, families, and children. An intact anchor would mean little if everyone standing on it died.

Rhea’s two remaining panels hovered beside her, both cracked and unsteady. "If we don’t split up, one of those rings will fall before we reach it."

"If we do split up, both groups die," Luke said.

She turned toward him. "Do you have a better option?"

He looked at Aelira. "Stop defending the anchors."

The Queen’s exhausted expression hardened, but Luke continued before she could dismiss the idea.

"Bring everyone toward the center. Once the roads are clear, cut both anchors before the Ruinborn use them to reach the Heartroot."

"You’re asking me to abandon what’s left of Lethariel."

Luke glanced at the silver wood beneath them. It carried the voices and memories of elves who had died long before he arrived, but survivors were still trapped across the last two rings.

"The Heartroot already remembers the dead," he said. "Save the people it can still bring home."

Aelira’s jaw tightened. The words hurt her, but she did not reject them.

Behind them, Oracle’s Heartwood creaked around Lauren. The crack along its pale trunk widened slightly as violet light moved beneath the bark, and Luke felt her begin testing his plan through their bond.

The sixth ring was crowded with survivors from the western districts. Some were wounded, while others carried children or supported elves who could no longer walk on their own. Ruinborn attackers had already reached the outer bridges and were forcing the defenders inward.

Far below, the seventh anchor’s roots were dying from the edges inward. The thin decay wielder moved through the lower passages with one hand pressed against the wood, leaving dead channels behind her.

Lauren followed one possible outcome after another. If Aelira severed the anchors too soon, hundreds of elves would fall into the burning districts below. Waiting until every survivor reached the center gave the Ruinborn enough time to enter the Heartroot.

At last, she found a route that left them a narrow chance.

The inner road from the sixth ring curved above the seventh anchor. Aelira could lower that road toward an old junction while raising a second route through the lower network. Both evacuations would meet beneath the central terrace, allowing the defenders to hold one crossing instead of dividing what remained of their strength.

Lauren sent the route through their bond.

Two silver roads appeared in Luke’s mind. One descended from the sixth ring, while the other climbed from the seventh. They met beneath the central terrace, where Rhea, Dorian, Kellan, and the surviving elves could defend a single position.

"There’s an old junction below us," Luke said. "Lower the sixth-ring road toward it and raise another from the seventh. We bring both groups through the same crossing."

Aelira stared at the living wood beneath her feet. "That junction was sealed generations ago."

"Can you reopen it?"

"The Heartroot can."

Another explosion rolled through the sixth ring.

Aelira closed her eyes and pressed one hand against the inner spine. Golden light gathered around her fingers, but it traveled only a few feet before slowing. Beneath them, the surviving roots shuddered as the Heartroot struggled to obey.

Five anchors had already been torn away, and much of the tree’s remaining mana had gone into keeping the central roots alive. Now Aelira was asking it to reshape two districts at once.

"My Queen," one of the rootkeepers said, "the sixth anchor cannot survive another shift."

"Then its final task will be bringing our people home."

The elf stared at her before bowing his head.

Aelira raised her voice so every nearby defender could hear. "Send word through every living route. The sixth and seventh rings are to be abandoned. All survivors will move toward the central junction."

For several seconds, no one moved. One rootkeeper looked toward the distant sixth ring, while several others exchanged stunned glances.

"What about the anchors?" he asked.

"They hold until the last survivor is clear. After that, we let them go."

One elf lowered his head. Another tightened both hands around her weapon. Beside Iris, the Thornmender closed her eyes briefly before returning her attention to the wounded.

Aelira struck her palm against the inner spine.

"Move!"

The rootkeepers obeyed, sending silver light away from the central terrace and into the final two anchors. Across Lethariel, the inner road of the sixth ring began to bend downward. The wood groaned beneath the weight of the evacuees, but thick supports grew along its underside and kept the road from breaking apart.

Below them, the seventh anchor forced a narrow route upward through the dead lower roots. Both roads began moving toward the sealed junction.

Rhea watched their progress through the gaps in the terrace. "How long until they meet?"

"Two minutes," Lauren said through the bond. Her voice had grown thinner. "Maybe less if Aelira can keep the lower road alive."

Luke relayed the answer.

Rhea looked toward the southern approach. "Two minutes is a long time with those three coming this way."

Across the gap, the leader, the masked woman, and the hammer wielder advanced along a stable root toward the central terrace. More corrupted elves followed behind them.

Smoke still rose from the opening in the hammer wielder’s chest armor where Kellan’s lightning had struck. His pace had slowed, but every distant explosion continued feeding the weapon on his shoulder. Beside him, the masked woman flexed her bare fingers while fresh threads gathered between them.

The leader paid little attention to the defenders. His gaze remained on Aelira.

"Five anchors gone, and now you drag the last two toward the center," he called. "How much of your own kingdom are you willing to destroy?"

Aelira kept one hand against the inner spine. "Enough to keep it out of yours."

His attention shifted toward the moving roads beneath the central terrace. "You will never move them all in time."

"Then stop talking and try to reach them."

Rhea stepped between the approaching Ruinborn and the Queen. Her two damaged panels separated as she assessed the narrow root they would need to defend.

"That bridge is their only approach," she said. "Dorian, center. My panels cover the sides."

Dorian planted the black hook against the root. His bronze circle formed around the entrance to the terrace, smaller than before but still steady.

Near the crossing, Kellan leaned against a raised section of wood. The golden lifeline around his thigh flickered whenever he shifted his weight.

"I can still reach the leader from here."

Iris tightened the anchor around his leg. "You can reach him from exactly where you are."

"You keep removing the impressive parts."

"I’m keeping the damaged parts attached."

Rhea glanced over her shoulder. "Iris, how long can you maintain all three connections?"

"I don’t know. I’m holding three people together, not watching a clock."

"Then warn me before one of them drops."

"I plan to warn them first."

Dorian’s lifeline pulsed across his ribs. Another remained wrapped around Rhea’s damaged chest and arm, while the third continued supporting Kellan’s thigh.

Iris had gone pale, and sweat darkened the hair around her temples. She had maintained those connections through the Forge, the collapse of the fifth anchor, and every fight since.

"I can keep all three stable," she said. "Another serious injury could break any of the connections."

Kellan glanced at Rhea. "So we avoid getting hit."

"You’re learning."

Luke turned toward the Heartwood. "Lauren, how much mana do you have left?"

"A few minutes," she admitted through the bond. "Less if I keep checking every possible disaster."

"Don’t check all of them."

"I know. Find the useful one."

Despite the strain in her voice, she still sounded like Lauren.

Luke relayed her limit to the others.

Aelira looked toward the cracked trunk. "Then those roads need to meet before the Heartwood releases her."