“We can hear its hungry cries,” Evlorasin growls, low in its throat. “It has not been fed sun or rain for many moons. It hungers for a great, grand chime, ringing clear and loud and sweet into the world. It will call to this chime, as it calls us and pulls us below the earth.”

My whole body feels suddenly stiff. The first thing my mind flashes to is Varia’s magic. My wounds. It takes her magic seconds to heal me—it’s stronger and more potent than Nightsinger’s magic by miles and miles. When I was burned alive by witchfire, my bones nothing more than ash, it took Varia’s magic not hours to heal me. Killing a Heartless by fire is known to slow down their healing significantly. The witchfire started roughly at sunset. But Varia’s magic had me alive again during that same sunset.

She is wildly powerful.

Varia’s nightmares about the Tree—it’s calling to her. If what Evlorasin says is true, then everything lines up.

The Bone Tree wants Varia’s magic. And it’s calling to her.

I walk out with Yorl after the session, feeling his tail whipping the air beside me as we ascend the stairs.

“We can’t afford to waste time like you did today.” The celeon’s voice has a snarl in it. “The valkerax might sound improved, but that doesn’t mean it’s any better physically. Death is not—”

“The Bone Tree feeds on magic from a witch, right?” I lilt. Yorl goes quiet, letting go of my hand. I may be able to find my way on my own now, but it’s the gesture that hurts the most. What little trust I’ve built with him feels suddenly strained, but I press on. “The Bone Tree is more like an Old Vetrisian relic, you said. They pumped so much magic and polymath engineering into it that it’s developed a mind of its own. What if it’s manipulating Varia? Is that possible? She’s a strong witch, and if it’s hungry—”

He stops me on the stairs, something slightly sharp poking into the empty void of my chest. A claw from Yorl’s paw. He’s pointing at me. I can’t see his gaze, but I can feel those huge emerald orbs on my face.

“Do you want your heart in your chest again or not?”

My own hackles raise. “Obviously.”

“Then why?” he asks carefully and softly. “Why are you asking these questions?”

I exhale, frustrated. “Because it’s important! Varia said she wants the Bone Tree to control the valkerax and stop the war, but what if the Tree is manipulating her instead?”

“And if it is?” Yorl argues. “No exchange in Old Vetris was unequal. Varia will get her valkerax army. And the Bone Tree will feed off her magic. She knows that.”

My flesh will feed its furnace.