Fione nods. “There is only the First Root. To make another Tree, one must split the First Root. That creates a divide in the magic, and from that divide grows a new Tree.”

I frown. “Like pruning a rosebush. Cut back one stem, and it makes two new ones.”

“Exactly,” she says. “Using the First Root, the Old Vetrisians split the Tree of Souls once to make their Bone Tree, and the witches used the other side of the split to make their Glass Tree. The split weakened the Tree of Souls considerably and changed the workings of magic as we know it.” She looks over at Lucien. “It’s why witches inherit their magic in pubescence and not from birth. And it’s why the Old Vetrisians were able to do so much more than modern witches can now. They were simply more powerful.”

“I see,” Lucien starts. “So we find the Tree of Souls and the First Root. Then what?”

“We split the root again. That will weaken the Tree of Souls again—and by proxy the Bone and Glass Tree—and theoretically release Varia.”

“You mean…” I trail off. “Split them into a new tree?”

She won’t meet my eyes. “Into two new trees. We must split the Bone Tree’s offshoot and the Glass Tree’s offshoot to weaken the Tree of Souls as a whole. This process will create two additional trees.”

“So…so that what?” I can feel my hackles rising. “So that mortals can use them to magically control more creatures?”

“Zera—” Lucien starts.

My fists are shaking, and I clench them hard. “Two new voices. Two new types of Heartless. Two new ways for people to inflict magical suffering on others. Is that what you’re saying we have to make?”

Fione doesn’t flinch, meeting my gaze now with a steadiness. “It’s the only way to free her, Zera.”

“The valkerax won’t be freed though, right?” Malachite asks.

I simmer quietly as Fione nods.

“Most of them will still be tied to the Bone Tree, obeying its primary command to remain in the Dark Below,” she clarifies. “A few might escape its hold—hopefully not enough to be a threat to the upworld. The same goes for the Heartless.” She looks pointedly at me. “A few will be freed from their witches.”

A few. Not all.

“We save Varia and stop the valkerax from being controlled by her,” Lucien murmurs. “It sounds like the best option.”

“The best—” I whirl around to look at him but go quiet at the expression on his face. He’s smiling down at me, at every part of me, with a faint look of hope in his dark hawk eyes, and all my anger drains instantly. I love him. I love all of them. They want so badly to save the people they love, to save the world they love. They know, now, what they have to do.

But so do I.