“Mother,” it said. That was the same thing Boris had said to her, when she’d first heard the Arboreal speak. She didn’t understand it any more now than she had then, and though she knew this tree was not Boris, she could not stop herself from wrapping her arms around its trunk.

“I have known one of you,” she whispered to it, her voice coming out in the wind-like rush of the Arboreal language. “And she saved my life by sacrificing her own. She was the bravest soul I have ever met. I am so sorry.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks and she felt a branch bend to gently brush her hair.

“Ahhh,” the Arboreal whispered. “The eldest of us, the one who was taken. Do not cry, sapling. She was blessed to have known you.”

“Mother,” another Arboreal said, and then another, and another.

“Why do you call me that?” Sera asked.

“You bring us the seeds of light and love,” one Arboreal murmured.

“Seeds of light and love as we once knew,” a second said. “So that we may grow throughout this earth as we were meant to. We have been on this island for so long.”

“You are not meant to be here?” Sera asked.

The first Arboreal’s eyes turned sad. “We are meant to be everywhere. We come from another island, far away in the north.”

“Braxos,” Sera said eagerly. “I am trying to get there. My home is attached to that island.”

“Home,” the first said mournfully, and the others picked up the call.

“Home.”

Sera had forgotten how frustrating speaking with an Arboreal could be. She kept walking, telling Leo what they’d said to her as murmurs of “Home” and “Mother” followed them. Part of her wished she had come alone—she felt a deep connection with this grove, like a natural blood bond, almost as if she truly was their mother, reunited with her children at last. But that was only the fear talking, she thought. Her magic was zipping and prickling, focused on Leo even as she wandered among the trees.

She passed an Arboreal who seemed smaller and younger than the others, and it reached out a branch to touch her shoulder.

“She wants the island too,” the tree whispered, as if telling a secret. “She claims she is our mother but she is not. She thinks to find more there.”

“Who?” Sera asked, though she thought she knew. “Ambrosine?”

The tree just stared at her, and Sera knew she was right.

“What do you mean, more?” she asked. “What more does she hope to find on Braxos?”