‘Elowen,’ she said. ‘If these people were given fresh oil from another sacred tree . . . would they be able to change shape like I can? Without any pain?’

Elowen paused for a moment, thinking. ‘I don’t see why not,’ she said. ‘The oil might be slightly different but it should have the same effect. The ability to shapewalk is in their blood, after all. And they have skins that are already bonded to them.’

‘Then,’ said Liska, ‘Deenai: I offer you and your people the chance to join the shapewalkers of Arborven. If you travel to the south, across the Blasted Waste, you will come to a cluster of mountains, their tops hidden in thick mist. Inside is a living city, just like Almberg once was, with a light tree at its heart. If you will help our people defend themselves against the forces attacking them, they will give you oil that will return the powers of your ancestors to you.’

There was much chatter after Liska’s speech, an excited bubble of voices getting louder and louder. Deenai frowned and nodded to herself through it all, before raising a hand for silence.

‘This city,’ she said. ‘My folk are used to the forest and the wild. I do not think we would do well in a place of stone and brick like the ruins. It would go against our souls. Against our nature.’

Liska laughed at this, making the old chieftain frown even deeper. At least until she explained herself. ‘No. No, it isn’t a city of stone. It’s made of trees! The mages live in houses amongst the oaks, beeches and elms. They care for them and build their homes amongst them. Just like this!’ She raised her arms and gestured to the trunks all around them, surrounding the stone huts of the forest people.

Beric joined in with Liska’s laughter, followed by the rest of the pack. Even Deenai was forced to smile.

‘In that case,’ she said, ‘we would gladly help you. We will be guardians again, like the old stories of our ancestors. We thank you for this offer.’

‘You’re welcome,’ said Liska, grinning. ‘Just go to the feet of the mountains. One of my shapewalker kin is bound to see you and fly down. Tell them that Liska of the griffyxes sent you. And . . . tell them that I am fine. Say that I am on my way to find Nammu’s heart. They’ll know what that means.’

Deenai’s eyes widened in surprise again. ‘The heart of the northern tree? I have heard of this legend. Why do you need it?’

The smile instantly vanished from Liska’s face. ‘Because my city is fighting against the shadow tree, Bitterblight. It is under attack even now. Finding the heart is the only thing we can think of to save it.’