TheDrakeseems to know as well.Headjusts his course, angling downward toward a clearing not far from the base.
We land with a soft but heavy thud, his claws digging into the earth.
I slide down from his back, my sandals hitting the ground asIstare up at the tree.
It’s even bigger from here—so big it makes me feel like a child.
I walk closer, drawn to it, my gaze traveling up the immense trunk.Thebark is thick and ridged, ancient beyond imagination, covered in moss and small creeping plants that have made their home upon it.
Twenty males could stand in a chain holding hands and still not encircle it.It’sthatbig.
“Gods, what a monster,”Theronsays behind me.
I glance back to see him standing there in his human form again, looking up at the vast trunk.
“Yes,”Iagree faintly.“Itis.”
He comes to stand beside me.
“So,” he says, after a moment.“Whatare you supposed to be looking for again?”
“The biggest root,”Itell him.
“Well…”Hegestures toward the base of the tree.“Let’sgo find it.”
He takes my hand, and we begin to walk… and walk…and walk.
It takes longer thanIexpect.Thetree is so vast that circling it feels like walking the perimeter of a building.Rootssnake out from the base in thick, twisting ridges, some half-buried, others rising high above the ground like natural walls.Butwhich one is the biggest?
I’m just beginning to get worried when at last, we find it.
It rises from the earth like a frozen wave—thick and gnarled and massive—before disappearing back into the soil with no clear beginning or end.Atits highest point, it’s taller thanTheron’shead.
I stop in front of it, dismayed.
“I thought this would be easy,”Isay.“Butlook at it,Theron.HowamIsupposed to findanythingunder there?”Igesture helplessly at the enormous root.“WheredoIeven start?Icould dig for days and not make a dent.Andhow wouldIeven knowIwas digging in the right place?”
As if in answer the air shifts and a faint shimmer appears near the base of the root, like heat rising from sun-warmed stone.Itflickers, coalesces, and then—something small and delicate steps out of it.
I gasp softly.It’sa creature no taller than my hand, shaped vaguely like a person but made entirely of bark and leaves.Tinygreen eyes blink up at me, and when it speaks, its voice sounds high and whistling, like wind through the top-most branches.
“Hello, good travelers,” it trills.“Andhow mayIhelp you?”
“Oh,”Ibreathe, because nowIknow what it is—we learned of these guardians in the temple.Thislittle fellow must guard theGrandfatherTree.“You’reaLeafSprite!”
“ThatIam, good lady.”Thesprite–which is a kind of pixie–bows to me, his little leaf body rustling with the motion.“AmIright in thinking that you’ve come to find theJewelofWisdom?”he asks in his tiny voice.
“Yes,Ihave,”Isay.“Ineed it for a spellI’mdoing–it’s one of the four elementsImust collect.Canyou help me find it?”Iask hopefully.
“Indeed,Ican.”Thesprite nods.“Butbe aware—the root will only give up its jewel for the right price.”
“A price?Whatprice?”Theronasks suspiciously.
The little sprite tucks his hands behind his back like a child reciting a poem and recites,
“No blade may cut, no hand may claim,
No chance nor fate may win this game.