I reach for my wand branch, both my power and Yvan’s flaring defensively just as a powerful caw splits the sky. We all look up, the breath wrenched from my throat as ravens bigger than horses burst through the canopy of leaves. I raise a hand to shield myself, branches crackling and raining down as the enormous flock lands around us with great, earth-jostling thumps.

And on the back of one of these impossibly huge ravens sits Tierney Calix, her blue-tressed head peeking over the shoulder of a black-clad, pale Fae male with midnight-dark eyes, lips, and hair. Gleaming obsidian horns rise from his head, and a small raven is perched on his shoulder.

“Tierney...” I manage. The giant ravens all set their gleaming, coal-dark eyes on me.

“Elloren...you’re Fae,” Tierney marvels as images from the Gardnerian holy book flood my mind—stories of the giant raven the prophetess Galliana rode to war against demons.

“The Errilor have returned,” Sylvan says, his voice low with awe.

A resonant caw sounds, and I turn as the largest of the ravens struts toward me. The dark bird leans its massive head down as if in offering. The other ravens still, a momentous tension gathering on the air.

“Touch the Errilor’kin, Guardian,” Flora murmurs, and I’m amazed by the acceptance in her tone. Feeling as if I’ve been thrust into mythical territory, I step forward, reach out and touch the raven’s silken head.

The moment I make contact, I sense the flock’s collective exhale through my rootlines, a connection clicking into place, like a lock fastening.

My Errilor flock.

III’s sense of triumph emanates from behind me, further rooting my affinity power to the ground. The raven lifts his head, bright sunlight glinting off his black beak and gleaming eyes.

Errilith.

His name sounds in my mind as wonder blooms in my breast. “Where did these ravens come from?” I ask.

Tierney’s companion fixes his inky stare on me. “There is a Reckoning at hand,” he says, his voice eerily deep, a dark mist rising throughout the clearing. “So the Errilor have returned. Their enemy, the Shadow Death, is coming for the natural world. Can you feel it?”

Anxious recognition shivers through my lines. “III showed me a vision of a great Shadow,” I tell him. “It was surrounding the last of the Forest.” I look at Yvan. “Vogel’s built an army in the Spine. Much bigger than the one he hid in the Vo Mountains. And his Shadow power keeps growing.” I falter, struggling to describe III’s foresight.

Yvan’s fire catches me in a closer embrace as he takes hold of my hand once more. “What did you see, Elloren?”

“People from every group on Erthia...standing with the Forest. They all had this on their palm.” I open my palm, revealing the imprint of III. “III wants us all to join with the Forest—”