The phial had been needed after all. Corwenna had talked about a gift of death. Now all was clear. The raven feather hidden up his sleeve served up its awful purpose. It had delivered a single drop of a liquid now eager for living veins of blood. “I learned much in the school of the wood. You presume that the trees are dumb. But they are not.”

Petronio tried to release Ark’s grip, but the fingers were like leeches. What gibberish was the boy talking? Too much time in the sewers had turned his mind to muck. Why couldn’t the King’s soldiers get him away from this maniac? He was happy to be arrested, to plead the bad influence of his father in court. The sudden tingling in his hand distracted him.

“I was warned about the misuse of power,” Ark continued. “But there’s a time and a place. This is both.” His eyes also fell onto Petronio’s hand, watching as the fat fingertips began first to darken, then to wrinkle. Corwenna had said the trees had armed themselves. Now he knew how.

“Hey! Let go of me!” screamed Petronio as a feeling of intense, sustained agony began to creep up his fingers, as if they were being sandpapered from the inside.

“It will be over soon!” The wrinkles crept up over Petronio’s palm and up his wrist. He tried to move, but Ark’s grip was tighter still.

Petronio felt fear then. Real fear for the first time. His bladder gave way and a warm trickle ran down his leg. “It looks like … bark!” he screeched.

“Oh, good boy. They taught you well!” Ark hissed. This was what the phial truly held: the living essence of every Arborian tree. The seed contained within this liquid was unstoppable.

Petronio’s lower arm was turning to wood. He could even see beetles and ants crawling over what was left of his hand and tiny buds forming at his former fingertips. Soon, it would reach over his shoulder, toward his heart. And then …

“And then,” said Ark, “at least you’ll be of some use. Maybe a nice chair. Or a couple of planks. Good-bye, Petronio!” Ark knew he was now no better than this conscience-free thug. But the boy was a parasite endangering all the wild places of the heart. Ark had no choice.

“Deluded Dendrans! We are not beaten yet!” Fenestra suddenly shouted. What could she possibly do now? Her forces were decimated and their leader a gibbering wreck. She turned toward Ark.

“I shall have your head displayed in a cube of glass. What you did to the Commander was unforgivable!”

Ark was no longer frightened of the envoy. “No, my lady. It was the Commander who broke all bonds of trust. As for your threat, I look forward to the attempt.” This was ridiculous, parrying words with a defeated woman.