This is not much reassurance, but it helps. Croi feels a little peace for the first time in hours and closes her eyes.

The onslaught of rain brings pain and a stinging awareness; Croi opens her eyes reluctantly. The darkness in front of her is broken sporadically by flashes of lightning. Croi tries to raise a hand to shield herself from the rain and realizes that she can’t move. Terror has her struggling, which leads to successive discoveries. She is dreaming, and in this dream, she is a tree.

A tree!

Croi wonders if she can pop out of the tree like Uaine, but alas, she has no such blessings. So she stands in place, slowly going out of her mind, wondering when she will wake up and whether her dream visitor will make an appearance. After all, every time she has had a lucid dream, Irial has visited her.

She is not disappointed. Lightning strikes the tree in front of her, splitting its trunk into two. The fae boy emerges through the crack in the tree. For a moment, his eyes are clearly visible. They are soft shades of green and dark shades of brown with just a little dash of yellow as if some of the sun lives in them. His eyes are ringed by a dark earthy brown.

The moment fades and Irial’s face blurs slightly. Croi decides the blurriness is a good thing as the fae’s beauty addles her already muddled mind. Still, he’s a new friend. She smiles at him before remembering that she is a tree and doesn’t really have a face. Wait, does she have a face? What about eyes? No, if she didn’t have eyes, how could she see Irial?

Irial walks over. “You’re a tree today?”

Croi sighs. “So it seems. By the way, do I have a face? Is it on the tree trunk? Does it look incredibly strange?”

Irial looks at her, then immediately averts his eyes, biting his lip, before asking, “Can I not answer that question?”

“Why not?” Croi demands.

“Just… trust me on this. All right?” he pleads softly.

“The less I know, the less hurt I will be?” Croi says.

“Yes, well…” He ducks his head. “Yes.”

“All right. You are forbidden from mentioning my tree phase ever again,” Croi says.

Irial stills. “Do you think we’ll know each other for a long time?”

“Why? Can’t we?” Croi tries to narrow her eyes at the fae but finds that her eyes won’t cooperate. Being a tree is hard on her nerves. “I don’t make friends easily, so I’d like to keep the one I have. Anyway, still no luck with the Forever King’s heir?”

Irial shakes his head, looking glum. He stands in front of Croi, the tree, but the rain doesn’t fall on him.

According to Uaine, the Talamh HeartStone is missing. Croi probably knows the reason behind the Robber Queen’s secretiveness. Should she tell Irial that she knows that the HeartStone is not in Talamh? But he has no reason to trust her. They’ve not even met other than in dreams.