He plucked the hair at his lips absently and then leaned forward, gazing at her. “Phae, I am determined to stop the Plague that wrecks our lands. I believe that the Arch-Rike is behind it. Either that or he knows its origins and conceals what must be done to vanquish it. Eighteen years ago, I rallied a group to my cause and we entered the Scourgelands to seek the Plague’s origin. The Arch-Rike knew of our journey and the path we would take. We were set upon immediately and all were killed, save myself and a Druidecht girl named Merinda. She taught me, during our escape, that the guardians of the Scourgelands are Dryads. They are vulnerable creatures and cannot defend themselves physically, but they have a powerful magic that affects even the man standing behind you. A Dryad can steal memories. By stealing, I mean they can take a person’s memory and embed it into the tree they are bonded with. The person forgets, but the Dryad remembers. Have you experienced this power?”
As he spoke, Phae felt a thrill and a tingle through her body. It resonated with her and she felt a flush rise to her cheeks. “Yes,” she answered, looking down. “I have. It started to frighten me and so I do not use it very often. Only for little things.”
Tyrus beamed at her. “How does it work? What have you noticed?”
She kept her arms tucked and began rocking slightly, back and forth. The light from the lantern painted eerie shadows across the walls. “I must meet someone’s gaze. It cannot work in darkness. But if we look at each other, and if I blink, I can take memories from them. They do not stay with me. They…float away, you might say.”
“Indeed,” Tyrus acknowledged. “You have not bonded with a tree yet. Only then will you be able to experience the full use of that power. You are of the age, Phae, when a girl makes the decision to fulfill the obligation her blood requires. This is Druidecht lore, child, and I am not privy to all of it, but I know enough. Your mother…taught it to me. A Dryad bonds with a single tree. If the tree dies or is destroyed, the bond is broken and she is trapped and unable to enter this world.”
Phae stared at him in confusion. “This world? What do you mean?”
Tyrus joined his fingers together and leaned his forearms on his knees. “There is an unseen world that we share. It is called Mirrowen. When one is calm and quiet, you can hear the whispers from Mirrowen. These are spirits, unseen to mortal eyes. Sometimes they appear to us in the form of animals, insects, or other woodland creatures. Only the Druidecht can hear them. The talismans they wear—that is the way they commune with the spirits. You are partly a spirit creature yourself, Phae. You are Dryad-born. You were also born with the fireblood, which you inherited from me. My goal, child, is to bring you into the Scourgelands so that you may bind with a tree there and re-learn the secrets of the Plague that have been lost for thousands of years.” He leaned even closer. “I do not have the power to stop the Plague. But you do.”
Phae shivered uncontrollably. Her heart raced with fear and panic. “But if I bond with a tree in the Scourgelands, will I be trapped there for the rest of my life? You said the bond is with a specific tree. That land is dangerous and evil.” She felt the panic begin to surge inside her. She wanted to run for the ladder and flee out the trapdoor.
Tyrus nodded, his expression stiffening. She could sense he was very good at controlling his emotions, of hardening himself for unpleasant realities. “I cannot withhold the truth from you, child. Yes, you could be trapped there. But it is my understanding that the Dryads dwell primarily in Mirrowen. It is a place of peace and great beauty. They only come to the mortal world when someone approaches their tree. They are the guardians of the portals to Mirrowen. Phae, you must understand this. The process of bonding to a tree grants the Dryad immortality.”
He looked at her imploringly. “I know what I am asking of you isn’t fair. I imagine it is not your wish to be separated from Stonehollow and those you consider family. If there was another possible way to end the Plague, I would gladly take it. But all the evidence points to this. Something happened to the Dryads of the Scourgelands centuries ago. They are feared by their sisters. They are as ancient as the world. They have the knowledge that we need. They may be unwilling to give it to you without an oath to replace them. You can set one of them free by agreeing to take her place. A Dryad is not expected to remain bonded to a tree for all eternity. Only until their charge is fulfilled and they have given birth to a child to replace her.”
Phae’s mind whirled with confusion. She pressed her hands against the side of her head. She found herself gasping for breath. “How do I know,” she asked in a quavering voice, “that you are even telling me the truth?”