Stretching his senses, he reached for his connection with the living green. Except it wasn’t there. Well, not the way he remembered it. Before, it required effort for him to draw magic from the forest. It was a conscious decision to form a link. Now there was no need to tap into the power. It already resided within him.

With a mere thought, he commanded the vines to release him. A ripping sound accompanied multiple stings of pain along his skin. As the vines retreated, cold air caressed his body, sending ripples of goose bumps.

Kerrick sat up. His stiff muscles protested. His pants had been destroyed by the roots. Blood welled from a number of throbbing cuts along his torso, arms, and legs. The vines’ roots had left creases on his brown-and-green skin. He held his hands out. They, too, matched the colors of the forest. His survival instinct had probably kicked in when he passed out, camouflaging him from danger. He’d worry about it later.

He rubbed the ache at the back of his neck. Had he collapsed or had someone knocked him out? Memories swirled through a thick fog.

Slowly the events that had led to his current situation assembled. Seeing Flea. The fight with Tohon’s dead ufas. Cellina and Sepp. The attack on Quain. Avry!

With a surge of energy, Kerrick stood, but he leaned against a tree as dizziness threatened to topple him. He needed food and water. How long had he been out?

He sniffed the cool air. Crisp and sharp, it no longer held the humid earthy scent of summer. A few red, yellow, and orange leaves littered the ground. Early fall. Panicked, he pushed through his jumbled thoughts, searching for answers.

Avry had stabbed Tohon. He smiled. That’s my girl. Flea had awoken Quain. And some sergeant had nicked him with a blade treated with...Death Lily toxin. Memories of being sick made him queasy anew. Kerrick sank to a sitting position.

Had he died? Was he dead? A ghost of the forest? He dismissed that silly notion. He hurt too much to be deceased. But how did he survive? Avry? No, she’d be with him. Plus she couldn’t heal those infected with Death Lily toxin.

And then he remembered the voice of the living green. Had it saved him?

No, the living green said in his mind.

Then who? he asked.

You did.

How?

Your magic.

But my magic doesn’t work that way. And the living green had never spoken to him before he’d gotten sick.

Mirth. No voice that you’d understand.

But now I can.

Yes.

Why?

You are of the forest.

But I’m alive.

Yes. Alive like trees and plants.

Kerrick’s temples pounded. Definitely alive. But how much time had passed? The living green showed him a tree’s small growth—its measure of time, but not helpful.