The group stood for a moment, staring in horror at the scarred mountainside, with its fresh tumble of broken rock and the smears of dead seepers. Then the treekeeper, Edda himself, spotted the ranks of shapewalkers who were now gathered around the swamp’s edge, all panting for breath. He bent over in a deep, creaking bow, honouring them.

A victory cry went up – a raucous noise made of roars, yowls and barks. It echoed back off the Shield Mountains and through the swamp. It stirred a cloud of bats from the Cryptwood, sending them flapping madly through the dead tree branches.

Even the mages joined in, clapping, cheering and waving. Amongst them, standing next to Edda himself, Liska caught a glimpse of Lug trying not to get trampled by the dancing arbomancers. She waved her tail at him and caught a glance of him waving back, and then they were both swallowed up by the cheering crowds around them.

Chapter 5

‘Stand up properly! Straighten your cloak out!’ Liska’s mother fussed around her, hissing in her ear. Liska squirmed and tried her best not to say anything rude. She had just helped save the city and now here she was, having her armour arranged for her like a four-year-old.

They were standing in a grand hall with towering wooden columns carved in spirals. Banners of the different schools of mages covered the wooden walls. One whole side of the structure was taken up by the trunk of the Undrentree itself. Liska could see the ridges of its bark, each one thicker than her entire body. Moss and lichen had been grown in patterns of interlocking circles all over it. There were hundreds of different colours in every shade imaginable. A living, growing work of art.

‘Stop staring at the tree! You look like a halfwit.’ Liska sighed. All this was because she had saved the city from attack. Everyone had been happy at first. There had been parties and feasting at the epic victory. Liska thought she might be awarded a stripe for her bravery. Maybe even two. But it hadn’t even been mentioned, and the celebrations didn’t last all that long either.

In the whole of Arborven’s history, this was the first time the rot had crept past the Shield Mountains. It was the first time one of the city’s own mages had betrayed it.

Something had to be done. Measures had to be taken.

So a council had been called for the leaders of all the mages, of the shapewalker families and the treekeepers. And, of course, Liska and Lug had been invited as well, to tell their version of events in public.