Chapter 488

Fin was already across, still holding pace behind Serena. Dex followed without looking down. Gavriel crossed while looking down, because the quicksand was fascinating and the fascinating was almost worth the risk.

Maelor reached the edge and stopped.

“No,” he said.

“No what?” Aeron asked.

“No,” Maelor repeated. “I am not crossing a bridge built by possessed Serena over volcanic quicksand on a mystery continent inside a volcano.”

“Yes you are,” Hyran said, passing him.

Aeron stepped onto the bridge next.

“Fine,” Maelor snapped.

He stepped onto the bridge with the enthusiasm of a man walking a plank. “If this collapses and volcanic quicksand, gets on my robe, I am sending you the bill Serena!”

Ahead of them, Serena was already running again.

They ran only a short distance before she stopped dead, her arm snapping out as a pink shield flared around all of them.

Then her eyes flickered. Pink to green. The ancestors released her like a hand letting go of a steering wheel.

She blinked. Looked at the jungle. Then at seven people standing behind her in various states of sweat, debris, and fury.

“We’re in a jungle,” she observed, glancing at the pink dome around the group.

“Yes,” Hyran snapped. “You jumped off a volcano and led us here.”

“Neat,” she replied, still looking at the dome.

She wasn’t wrong. It was neat.

She glanced down at her hands, then looked back at the dome, clearly trying to figure out why it was up.

That’s when she felt deja vu, so hard that her hand flew to her chest.

Even with the necklace, Dex, Gav, and Fin all felt it. A memory trying to surface, but she couldn’t grasp it.

The jungle answered for them.

A vine dropped like a noose, smashing straight through her shield as if it were parchment.

It snagged Aeron by the waist, yanking him off the ground so violently he shouted on the way up.

“SERENA! YOUR JUNGLE IS TOUCHING ME!” he called.

More vines shot down at the same time. Too many to track.

One coiled around Fin’s ankle and ripped him upside down into the air. “Shit.”

“Fin!” Serena screamed.

He had his sword out in a flash, slashing it clean through, dropping three feet before another vine replaced it. He cut that too, spinning midair, landing in a crouch. A third one whipped past his ear.

“Did that one just dodge my sword?” he asked.

“They’re learning,” Hyran said from behind a ward. “The vines are adapting to your cutting patterns.”

“GREAT. LEARNING PLANTS. Love that for us,” Fin said, slashing one before it touched Serena.

Gavriel barely had time to twist as a vine snapped around his waist. He spun out of it, slicing with a brutal downward stroke that severed the vine at its base.

“For the record,” he called out while dodging the next one, “the trees in Drakenfell don’t do this. Our trees are civilized. Our trees mind their own goddamn business.”

Two vines hit Dex simultaneously. Arm. Ribs. The ribs one tightened with the enthusiasm.

Gavriel cut the arm vine before Dex finished swearing. Dex tore the rib vine off with his hands and threw it at the canopy like it had personally insulted his bloodline.

“That one was going for a hug,” Gavriel observed.

“That one was going to die and it succeeded.”

“Do you think the vines talk to each other? Because that one definitely knew your name.”

“Gavriel.”

“I’m just saying. It went straight for you. Targeted. Like it had a list.”

“Shut up and cut vines.”

Next to them, Hyran blasted a vine with gold magic so aggressive it left a scorch mark on the tree behind it. Two more vines took its place.

“SERENA. THIS IS YOUR FAULT,” he boomed.

Maelor fabricated a sword. The sword was beautiful. Ornate handle. Perfect balance.

He swung it at a vine and missed.

Aeron clapped, amused.

“I am a RESEARCHER,” Maelor shouted, swinging again. The second swing connected. Barely. “I study THEORY. I read BOOKS. I do not FENCE with VEGETATION.”

Hyran fabricated his own sword. The sword was functional and effective. He cut three vines in two strokes.

“Your sword is hideous, Hyran,” Maelor called.

“My sword WORKS. Yours has a FILIGREE. We are fighting PLANTS, Maelor. The plants do not appreciate your CRAFTSMANSHIP.”

“Craftsmanship is a LIFESTYLE, Hyran. It does not pause for emergencies,” Maelor snapped.

Hyran bent over, hands on his knees, gasping. He straightened. Pointed his sword at the jungle at large. Opened his mouth about to give it a piece of his mind.

A vine dropped from directly above him and wrapped around his sword arm.

“OH, COME ON.”

Aeron cut it. Hyran didn’t thank him. Maelor was already fabricating his third sword because the second one had gotten stuck in a vine and the stuck was permanent and the sword was a loss he was choosing to grieve later.

A vine snagged Serena’s waist and ripped her skyward.

She reached for the flame. Gold fire exploded from her palm, racing down the vine so fast it didn’t have time to tighten. The vine shrieked. Released. She dropped.

Fin caught her.

Every vine within twenty feet recoiled into the canopy at the same time.

Maelor lowered his protest sword. “I’ve been fighting these things for ten minutes with a fabricated blade and she just ended the conversation with one hand.”

“Welcome to Serena,” Gavriel said.

Serena pushed flame to everyone except for Maelor, because she couldn’t.

He didn’t comment. They were all bound by blood oath so even if he had, no one would be able to answer.

Fire encased every blade simultaneously, burning anything that it touched. The swords went from fabricated metal to weapons that glowed like torches in the jungle dark, and the vines that had been creeping back toward the group stopped creeping.

“That solved that. Now behave,” Aeron warned the foliage.

The foliage did not behave. But it stopped attacking, which was the closest thing to compliance this jungle offered.