down, was the Lifeblood.
Eraeth had been right. The Wraiths and Shadows were using the newly awakened Well to compromise the Seasonal Trees.
He hesitated, his essence hovering along the invisible boundary between the Source and the Tree. He could feel the two forces battling against each other, a subtle ebb and flow as the barrier shifted and gave. The power behind the conflict was immense, the friction sending waves of residual energy across the plains in all directions. He could feel those stresses building, knew that they would find release in the unnatural storms that battered the grasses and the occumaen that riddled the lands to the west. Even now, purplish lightning flared to the far north along the barrier’s edge. As he watched it etch a jagged line across the sky, black storm clouds building at an impossible rate, the truth of what he was seeing struck him.
The Seasonal Trees were failing.
A wave of despair and hopelessness washed over Colin, stultifying in its depth. He staggered back from the barrier, began retreating back toward the Confluence and his own body, but then forced himself to stop, to draw deep breaths to control his stampeding heart, to steady the trembling that coursed through his body even though it was hundreds of miles distant.
The Trees were failing, but he’d known they would not hold forever. He’d simply assumed they would last longer than this, hundreds of years longer. He had not anticipated that Walter or the Wraiths would find a way to circumvent or destroy them. Not so soon.
But they had. And now he and the rest of the three races would have to deal with it.
Pulling himself together, he glanced toward the gathering storm, more lightning seething across the skies in a spider’s web of raw energy, then turned his attention southward. He needed to know how badly the Trees had been compromised. He had felt nothing wrong when he touched the Winter Tree in Caercaern, but the Wraiths had had months since then to wreak havoc here in the east. The Summer Tree was under attack, but what of the Autumn Tree in Temeritt? He needed to check both it and the Winter Tree again.
He sped southward, blazing along the barrier between the Summer Tree and the Well to the east, feeling the fluctuations, taking note of how far the Summer Tree’s influence had decayed. As he came to where the Andagua River broke apart, the massive system of tunnels and ancient buildings that the dwarren used here shattered by a cataclysm in ages past, he slowed. The dwarren called the region Broken Waters, the river collapsing into thousands of smaller streams and cascades that spread through the chunks of stone and seeped out onto the plains and the region beyond called the Flats, but this was also where the Summer Tree’s influence ended and the Autumn Tree’s began.
Except he couldn’t sense the Autumn Tree at all.
Nausea rolled through his stomach. Where the Autumn Tree and the Summer Tree were supposed to merge, he sensed only the intruding presence of the Source. It cut into the area where the two Trees had mingled.
Colin followed the edge south and west, shuddered with relief when he finally sensed the Autumn Tree merging with the Summer Tree. The two had not been separated and torn apart completely. Walter and the Wraiths had merely used the Source to drive a wedge between the two.
But what he sensed from the Autumn Tree, even weakened by the distance from the Confluence, left the taste of ash in his mouth.
He lingered long enough to verify that what he’d felt was true, and then he turned to speed toward the Confluence and the Gathering of the dwarren. He thought he knew now why they had Gathered.
And he needed to warn them of what they faced.
“Is the Tree safe?” the leader of the Keepers asked anxiously as soon as he came within twenty paces. They had all watched him as he descended from the bole of the Tree, had already seen the serious cast to his face, the numerous shamans collecting near their leader, surrounding Eraeth, Siobhaen, and Quotl.
“The Tree has been compromised,” Colin said, turning his attention to Quotl as the rest of the Keepers gasped. “The Wraiths are using their newfound power to attack the protection that the Tree offers. There is nothing that the Keepers can do here to salvage the situation, except to bolster and support the Tree as much as they can. They may be able to hold off the destruction for a time, but they cannot hold it off forever unless someone seizes control of the newly awakened Well.
“And there’s more-”
Before he could continue, a sudden flurry of drums resounded throughout the chamber, all of the dwarren turning.
“The Broken Waters Clan is arriving,” Quotl murmured.
Even as he spoke, a column of dwarren emerged from one of the widest tunnels leading to the southeast. Colin estimated at least two thousand Riders poured forth, spilling across the stone floor, spreading out as they emerged into the massive chamber. A roar rose among the dwarren, voices raised and weapons clattering against stone and chests.
Quotl turned to Colin. “The Gathering will be called immediately. We must return.”
“What can we do for the Summer Tree?” the Keeper asked. His eyes were still wide with shock.
“Lend it your strength,” Colin said, glancing around at all of the dwarren shamans. “The Summer Tree still holds, and the longer it holds, the greater the chance that we can find a way to defeat the Wraiths.”
“Shadowed One!” Quotl called. The head shaman of Thousand Springs had already climbed down from the edge of the Summer Tree’s roots. He motioned toward the milling group of dwarren who had just entered the chamber. “Come!”
Colin nodded toward the Keepers, then urged Eraeth and Siobhaen after Quotl.
“You said there is more?” Eraeth said as they moved around the Confluence, the background roar of the turbulent water to one side.
“It’s far worse than I thought possible in such a short amount of time,” Colin said in answer. “But I’ll explain it all at the Gathering.”
They reached the chaos created by the arrival of the Broken Waters Clan and forced their way through the group to the forefront, where Oraju and Kimannen were greeting the clan chief. The Archon shot Colin and Quotl a dark look but said nothing.
“-unusual activity to the south,” Clan Chief Asazi was growling as they approached, “on the Flats. I sent out scouts to determine who and what it was, but they did not return. We only have the word of one of our trettarus, and they say that the group was headed southward, not toward dwarren lands.”
Oraju raised a hand to forestall him. “Save the report for the Gathering. Is the keeva prepared, Archon?”
Kimannen nodded. “All is ready. The fires have been lit and the yetope prepared. The blessings have all been spoken. Ilacqua has been called to give us counsel.”
“Then we will begin immediately. Summon the rest of the clan chiefs and the head shamans.”
“And the Shadowed One?” the Archon asked with a glare.
“Ilacqua has seen fit to bring him to us at this time. He must attend as well.”
The Archon grunted, but Colin ignored him. “My two Alvritshai companions should be part of the Gathering as well,” he said. “As we will see, there is more at stake here than dwarren lands and dwarren interests.”
The Cochen frowned, eyes raking the two Alvritshai before he nodded in reluctant agreement. “Bring them.”
The entire group turned and followed the Archon up into the myriad stairs and walkways of the cliff dwellings carved into the side of the chamber. As they ascended, Eraeth tugged on Colin’s sleeve.
“Why did you want us as part of the Gathering?”
“Because what I said is true. You will both be there to represent the Alvritshai’s interests. You will represent the Lords of the Evant, and Siobhaen the Order of Aielan.”
“But we have no standing in the Evant,” Siobhaen pointed out. “And I have little in the Order. Besides, I don’t understand dwarren!”
“That does not matter. The Alvritshai need to be seen here, or they will be forgotten.”
They reached a wide opening, rounded like an egg, where three of the head shamans of the clans waited, chanting quietly. They bowed to the Cochen and Archon, the chants never ceasing, and motioned with their scepters, the snakes’ tails tied to them rattling as they shook them. The Archon bowed in return and ushered the Cochen into the chamber, the rest following. Inside, embers pulsed red in a pit dug out in the center of the floor,
