Page 173 of Cycle Keeper’s Shadow

“Come,” Hollis urged, already striding toward the buildings in the distance. “Velhya calls. The seed is in danger.”

Chapter 44

Heartwood’s Call

Gladeans rushed toward the seed pool from every direction. Hollis didn’t look back; he simply expected Wren to follow. When they arrived, faces tight with worry emerged all around, circling the pool.

At its center, Velhya stood ankle-deep in the silvered liquid. Leora hesitated beside her, face drawn in concentration. None of the Gladeans panicked, but as they pressed close, the strain was clear—mouths thinning, whispers passing back and forth. Wren squeezed closer, afraid of what she might see.

Wendall stood heads above the others, brow furrowed deeply, clutching his rolling pin like it might ground him amid the uncertainty. He nodded in greeting, but it was quiet and tense. Seeing the man who always offered an optimistic grin so frazzled set Wren’s nerves on edge.

The Gladeans before her shifted and Wren’s breath caught. The seed was blackened, cracked down the center, and barely glowing with the vibrant green light she’d seen the first day.

For the first time, Velhya looked scared.

She lifted one hand tentatively toward the seed; the other clutched a shard of bone on her token belt. Her eyes glowed silver. They all watched in desperate stillness. She barely brushed the surface when her hand jerked back like the seed had shocked her.

The bubble of silence burst into frantic murmurs across the crowd. Velhya schooled her features; the fear disappeared, replaced by the stoic control Wren had witnessed when they first met.

Leora leaned in to whisper something, but Velhya only shook her head. Whatever was said, it drained the color from Leora’s face. She wrapped her arms around herself, then nodded quietly before hurrying away toward the grotto.

“Voryx’s seal is near breaking,” Velhya said. She allowed a moment of gasps before raising a hand to silence them. “We knew this day would come, but the Glade’s barrier must not fall. Fennik, Sylvi, double patrols.”

Her tone was even—firm but not cold—and the guards responded immediately. They moved as one, issuing orders and spreading out to disappear among the trees.

“We have resisted far longer than I believed possible,” Velhya continued, a stillness in her voice at odds with the anxiety building in the Gladeans. “The seed is only a symptom of the corruption at our borders. We must go where the seal lies—to the Heartwood. You have planned for this day. I will gather a small group to journey with me. You know your roles. We leave at moonrise.”

Her declaration reverberated through the group like a struck bell. The Gladeans withdrew at once, each moving with purpose.

Willowmay’s leafy hair swayed as Sennah—a human with large, round glasses that magnified her gray eyes—helped her gather the children toward the schoolhouse. Lyrah ushered Mira and Tommick with them. Branwynn was directed toward Wendall’s open-air kitchen.

Aelori moved to the open area behind the pools, planted her feet, and started crafting. Roots rose from the earth, twining together to form the beginnings of a solidly woven barrier. Even Old Man Tarl shuffled off, humming under his breath about “renewin’ grimbalm stores.”

When the others had cleared away, and a tense, productive quiet settled over the Glade once more, Velhya stepped from the pool straight to Wren’s group.

“We must speak,” she said, golden eyes flashing not only toward Wren but to the others as well. When they shifted beneath her gaze, Velhya nodded solemnly. “It is not only Wren who has been called. The Cycle compels each of us in our time.”

“What can we do?” Wren asked, gaze flashing to the darkened seed behind Velhya.

“We must assess Voryx’s seal and work to strengthen it, if we are able.” She looked at Garin, Wren, and Orzen in turn. “I will need you three with me tonight. Leora will see to the protection of the Glade in our absence. Once we know the extent of the damage, we will better understand our next steps.”

Jessa cleared her throat and said, “Uh, what about us? How can we help?”

“I’m not much of a fighter,” Calen said softly. “But if you need more eyes watching the border, I’m a fair tracker…”

Velhya’s expression relaxed with gratitude. She nodded and motioned toward the platforms in the trees, where Gladeans scrambled across rope bridges on patrol. Calen bowed his head and darted toward them.

“As for you,” Velhya said, eyes landing on Jessa, “You have studied the stories. They hum beneath your skin. Sennah would do well with your help. She, too, has examined the tales, and her notes may benefit from a fresh set of eyes.”

With deliberate effort, Jessa closed her gaping mouth. Her cheeks darkened with embarrassed pride. Then she squeaked out an, “Of course,” before scurrying toward the schoolhouse.

Wren watched her leave, apprehension deepening with every step. The Heartwood, the Binding Bough, Voryx’s seal…it all circled the prophecy.

She slipped a hand into the pocket where she’d placed Orzen’s metal scrap. It was smooth and cool beneath her fingers. If this was her destiny—if it prevented those she loved from being consumed by Voryx’s destruction—she’d face it without hesitation, to whatever end.

“I’ll go with you.” Wren’s voice came out steady somehow. “If that’s what you think is best.”

Velhya’s palm cupped her cheek. “I would not ask this of you if I thought it would lead us to failure,” she said softly, “but you must step into this with clear eyes. The Witherborn stir at His call. And the one you call Silas still roams. They yet seek you for their ends. But we will be with you.”