Page 81 of For Ever More

Searching my face, she calls out to Shenming, “Go ahead. My sister and I will remain a little longer. I want to rest before undertaking the journey.”

“Shall I wait for you?” he offers.

As I shake my head imperceptibly, Dian waves Shenming off. “Hurry, your soldiers have already set off. You need to instruct them on what to say when they return.”

At once, Shenming’s expression grows somber. Without another word, he inclines his head and leaves.

“Why do you want to stay?” Dian asks me now.

“It’s important, though I can’t explain yet. Nor can you accompany me; outsiders aren’t permitted unless accompanied by Jin or his uncle. The grove only accepted me because of the dragon’s magic.”

Dian scowls as she sits down by the bank. “I’ll wait for you.”

“Thank you, Sister,” I tell her softly, moved by her trust.

Alone, I ride toward the Ancient Grove. The cold sharpens as I dismount, whispering to my horse to stay. It seems to understand, though its hooves paw the ground nervously. Above, spindly branches rake the sky like talons. As I approach the thorns, they quiver, then slide apart as they did for Jin. Only the red ones remain menacingly still—I duck beneath them. This is my first time in the grove alone. I should be afraid of the barren trees, the dense quiet, yet there is also peace in being here. But when I examine the place, my heart plunges.

Gone is the barrier Jin and I wove. The rose coiled around the tree has shriveled further, petals browned… just like the one at the waterfall. The last Radiant Sky Tree here is dying, its bark graying and cracked, more leaves carpeting the earth—succumbing to the sickness that destroyed the other trees. Amid their gnarled roots, the pale grass sprouts in greater profusion, its blades glistening as white as frost.

A shaft of pain pierces me. The devastation in this grove resembles the wasteland in my dream. Was it a premonition? What if it spreads across the rest of Thorn Valley, across the ocean itself to my home? I channel my power, trying to forge a new barrier—but the magic doesn’t hold, dissipating like mist in the sun. If only Jin were here, I think, my insides wrenched with despair.

As I crouch beneath the tree, the Little Dragon’s bones grow warmer, pulsing with insistent force. Remembering my dream, I pull them from my pouch, unwrapping the silk—instinctively placing the bones beneath the tree, shadows of its branches weaving like a spiderweb above. The wind strengthens, leaves rustling as the bones glow with an unearthly sheen. They quiver, then rise abruptly into the air—interlacing and melding to form a smooth oval. It falls to the earth with a soft thud, its radiance undimmed as it lies nestled in the earth.

My hands are shaking, wonder suffusing me. A voice rings out, achingly familiar yet filled with new resonance. You found the waterfall. The one of legend.

Joy kindles within, the first glimmer since Jin was taken. “Little Dragon,” I whisper. “I’ve missed you. But the waterfall was destroyed; we were ambushed. The Sun Dragon… is dead.”

Silence falls, leaden with sorrow. The trees shudder, a sigh rippling as though they grieve too. The Sun Dragon’s death is a grave loss. The evil that threatens our realm grows stronger.

“Why did the Queen of the Iron Mountains kill him?”

To protect the starfire. In the past, the ancient dragons shattered the starfire—the heart of a wicked god—fearing such magic would bring great devastation upon our land.

“Yet the Sun Dragon’s blood also bound pieces of the starfire back together.”

Each dragon’s blood is different. Where one heals, another can destroy, the voice continues. The queen has taken what she needs from the dragons. They are no longer of use, but remain a threat. With the destruction of the Waterfall of Eternal Night and the decay of the Ancient Grove, our power in this realm wanes—as hers rises.

Anger wrestles with despair, yet a flicker of hope remains. If the Queen of the Iron Mountains is still afraid of the dragons… could they be the key to ending her reign? “How is the Ancient Grove connected to the dragons?” I ask. “Why does the rose grow here and at the waterfall?”

The waterfall was the birthplace of the dragons, while this grove was once their home—the heart of power in this realm. The roses sprouted from their magic to protect these sacred places from harm.

I roll back on my heels, recalling Jin’s claim of the dragons dwelling here long before they came to our island. “This is why the Radiant Sky Trees grow here too, not just Mist Island,” I say slowly. “Except why did they only die in Thorn Valley?”

This grove is where these trees first flourished—only later did they grow on Mist Island. The two dragons who settled there, lived here before. But after the trees perished in this grove, most of the dragons left to other realms. Yet the rose remained, guarding the first Radiant Sky Tree, keeping it safe. Now that the rose is dying, this place falls deeper into ruin.

My mind spins at these revelations. There was nothing in the books, no stories—as though this secret was either forgotten or intentionally buried. “How do you know all this?”

The Waterfall of Eternal Night revealed its secrets to me, along with those from the Sun Dragon’s memories—though he did not know how the trees in this grove sickened, or why the decay spreads here, affecting the animals, crops, flowers—

“Even the grass.” I frown as I inspect the snow-white blades, wondering how they seem to almost thrive.

This grass isn’t of Thorn Valley.

A terrible suspicion unfurls. Before we left to seek the waterfall, only the tips of the grass here were white—now spread all the way through. I’d thought the decay caused it… but what if I was wrong? “How did this grass sprout here? When?”

Just before the trees began to sicken.

I pause. “Could the grass be the cause of the decay? What if this wasn’t an accident? What if someone plotted to kill the trees in this grove?” Words so vile, it sears to speak them aloud.