The great tree of the elves had a name, of course.

  “Sylphara,” the Sylrithar said. “Meaning Ancient Mother, in old elvish.”

  “Does Syl have some special meaning in your language?” I asked. “Couldn’t help but notice all the words with it.”

  The Sylrithar nodded. “It can have many meanings, and it certainly need not be a prefix. Strength, of good health, of the forest—it can mean any of these things and more.”

  ‘Of the forest’ sounded about right, considering Aerion’s Blessing description. It mentioned ancient warriors who terrorized one of the old elven forests. The Elderglades, specifically, so a different forest, most likely. I wondered if the trees in that one were as big.

  The path curved this way and that, carefully avoiding the gargantuan roots to avoid harming the tree. What would’ve taken a handful of seconds for even the girthiest sequoias back on Earth took minutes.

  When we did finally make it to the bark, however, the tunnel that bored into the actual trunk almost ended before it began, leaving Aerion and me speechless.

  Seeing our surprise, the Sylrithar motioned with his chin to the walls. “We build our settlements in the outermost region of the trunk, where our passages and chambers pose the least risk to the tree’s health.”

  “Explains the odd shape,” I said, craning my neck. “That why it’s so tall?”

  “An astute observation,” the Sylrithar said. “We make narrow vertical cuts to the trunk, and only when there is a pressing need. There is no surer way to kill a tree than to carve a ring all the way around its trunk. Our Glademinders would have a seizure if the builders ever spoke of such heresy.”

  I looked up at the bizarre hollow, trying and failing to find its ceiling somewhere high above. The Sylrithar wasn’t kidding about the space being narrow. It was barely the length of a football field, which, while not small, was incredibly tiny for something that was supposed to be a whole city. Enough for a couple of roads and intersections. Nor was it especially wide, either. A few football fields, max.

  But up? Up was another story.

  When I think of vertical cities, I think of skyscrapers. Urban jungles. There was none of that here.

  Along both walls of the hollow, thousands upon thousands of small rooms had been carved. Some interconnected via small passages carved into the walls—passages that only had one wall and were open to the massive space on the other side—while dozens, if not hundreds, of rope bridges connected the two sides of the cavern to each other all the way up.

  And then there was the central island—the thing closest to a skyscraper. Except instead of rising from the ground, each ‘floor’ was its own entity, suspended by countless ropes from the cavern walls. All sorts of wooden structures sat on top, though it was hard to tell exactly how many there were from our low position.

  “The suspended platforms mostly house markets and businesses, while the dwellings are carved into the walls,” the Sylrithar explained.

  Glancing back at the wall, I realized there were wooden doors at the end, which meant what we were looking at were actually just entrances to those areas.

  “Gotta admit, I’ve never seen or heard of anything even remotely like this.” Coexisting with nature wasn’t exactly a priority back home. Not that Earth had trees large enough to build cities in, anyway.

  Beside me, Aerion’s jaw hung open, and I could swear there were stars in her eyes. I’d wondered how a mechanical genius would find such organic architecture, but it seemed she was just as interested in this as anything made of metal and gears.

  I gave the Sylrithar a pitying look, leaving him confused. He wouldn’t be for much longer.

  “How does the tree sustain itself with your construction?” Aerion asked, speaking rapid-fire. “Or no, how long does it take to construct a place like this? I assume you have Blessed and Boonworthy to form these spaces, yes? Isn’t it dangerous for your young? And what about transportation up and down? ”

  The Sylrithar’s expression went through a whole evolution from surprise to confusion to frustration. In the end, though, he just laughed, gesturing to a long, hollowed-out log that sat on the ground nearby. A metal loop had been embedded into each end, but what purpose they served, I had no idea.

  “There will be plenty of time for answers,” the elven leader said. “To answer your last question, however, why don’t I show you how we navigate the hollows?”

  Unsure of where this was going, we nonetheless took our seats on a plain wooden bench installed within the log. There were about ten of these, and it was only when my eyes caught motion on the far wall that everything clicked into place.

  A log identical to ours descended rapidly along a wall, with two vine-looking things suspending it from so high I couldn’t even see where they started.

  That was all I had to take in before our own vines reached down and locked into the metal loops. Before we knew it, we were ascending as fast as any elevator.

  The difference was that here, we could see everything as we ascended. Oh, and we were completely exposed and absolutely not strapped in.

  Aerion yelped from beside me, clutching onto me with all of her prodigious strength.

  I, too, uttered a cry, but not because of the log lift. She’d grabbed onto my elbow, in the gap between my armor plates, and the pain of her death grip was unbelievable.

  She realized her mistake, though, and instantly backed off. I gave her a grateful smile before glancing down at her hand. I still struggled to comprehend just how those dainty fingers could outmatch the strongest bodybuilders on Earth…

  My thoughts were interrupted when we ascended past the first suspended platform, and Aerion and I could see all the buildings built on top.

  The area was a city block in size—incredibly impressive on its own—but what really amazed me was how much they’d built on top. There was hardly any unused space, and many of the wooden buildings were three stories tall.

  “How can those ropes support such weight?” Aerion asked in awe.

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  I had the same question. Even modern rope on Earth couldn’t support that. You’d need steel cables, and these looked nothing like steel.

  “The vine is taken from the highest reaches of Sylphara’s canopy and woven tightly together by our master craftsmen. It is then given to our Blessed, who magically enhance every segment. A painstaking process, but one that yields nigh-unbreakable cord. We use it everywhere throughout our construction.”

  “Feels like there’s magic for just about every damned thing,” I muttered as we continued to ascend. There had to be hundreds of thousands of unique abilities out there. The ability to magically strengthen rope might seem like a banal ability at first, but I doubted there was a single civil engineer who wouldn’t jump at the chance to have such a thing. It was a good reminder that just because Aerion and I had focused our abilities on combat, there was a much wider world of magic out there.

  As impressive as the vines were, what I wanted to know was just how the lift mechanism operated. Aerion beat me to the punch, and the Sylrithar launched into an explanation that was as comprehensive as it was dry.

  To my surprise, this wasn’t actually magic, or at least, not fully. Good old pulleys and leverage comprised the mechanism, which was controlled by a team in a chamber above the cavern. The lift could be summoned at various levels in the cavern, and different lifts stopped at different levels. Pretty much identical to elevators.

  Where it differed was the power source, which was magical.

  We stepped off the log onto a platform that led to a tunnel. The tunnel in turn led… to the floor of another tall, narrow cavern.

  “By building several smaller caverns at different heights, we further reduce our impact on the tree’s health,” the Sylrithar said, motioning us to another log elevator.

  After traveling through three more caverns in this way, I quickly learned that the interior of this tree was closer to a gigantic labyrinth than anything else. Each cavern was both the same and different, with buildings constructed of the same materials, but varying in size and shape depending on who lived there or what sorts of businesses there were.

  “It took us almost half an hour to get up to the top,” I commented, stepping off what was thankfully the final lift. “Is this really the only way you have to get around?”

  “Oh no,” the Sylrithar replied. “Nobody would use the internal lifts to travel up the tree. We have lifts on the outside that go all the way up or down for that.”

  “Ah, right,” I said, remembering my own experience during our jailbreak earlier.

  “This, however, is a tour. What would be the point of skipping everything?”

  “Touche,” I replied, earning a curious look from the elf and a giggle from Aerion. Somehow, I suspected Cosmo’s translator had failed me in some spectacular way.

  “We are now high in the tree, almost to the canopy. This level houses our training and dueling facilities.”

  “Oh?” I said, raising a brow. I couldn’t help noticing that Aerion’s ears had perked up too. “Seems like an inconvenient place. Any particular reason it’s up so high?”

  Even if there were lifts on the outside that could come here, that was still one more lift ride than putting it on the ground, where space wasn’t nearly as much of a premium. Which meant there had to be something special about this place.

  “Quite,” the Sylrithar said, beaming with pride. “If you’ll follow me…”

  We did, and he led us through a handful of tunnels, the last of which opened into a balcony overlooking a wide open space with a three-story ceiling.

  In it, dozens of elves fought one another, but I barely noticed.

  “You sense it too, don’t you?” I said, turning to a frowning Aerion, who nodded.

  “A heaviness,” Aerion said. “‘Tis strong here. Coming from the fighters, I think.”

  I nodded. It was the same feeling I had when we’d fought the elves.

  “Sylrithar, what is this?” I asked. “You must know.”

  “Ah, you must be referring to their Presence.”

  “Presence?” I asked. “Is that like an aura or something?”

  “Indeed it is. It is the manifestation of the quality of their soul.”

  We both stiffened upon hearing that word.

  “The soul,” I said. “You’re saying their soul power is what’s giving them that aura? Actually, what does it do? Sure, it feels powerful, but does it make you stronger?”

  “Stronger, faster, quicker of mind, to name just a few of the benefits. Consider it a multiplier of one’s self.”

  That honestly sounded unbelievably good. To be able to drastically enhance everything about myself? That sounded broken. It sounded like cheating. Then again, this wasn’t a game, and fairness wasn’t a concern.

  “You asked if this place was special, yes?” the Sylrithar said. “It is. One could call this place the beating heart of the tree, where its enormous energies coalesce. This affects all living things in the vicinity. Plants grow larger, and people benefit in a myriad of ways.”

  I frowned. “What sort of ways?”

  The elf shrugged. “Impossible to say without spending time here. It varies from person to person. One might be physically boosted, while another might find peace with their emotions. Moreover, the effects linger for a time. The longer one spends here, the longer they persist. As you might imagine, these facilities are in great demand.”

  “How do we gain access?”

  It wasn’t me, but Aerion who asked that almost before the Sylrithar had finished speaking.

  He grinned and waved his hand dismissively. “Why do you think I’ve brought you here? You can both enjoy unlimited access. Consider it an apology. For, er, that dreadful turn of events.”

  I raised a brow but kept quiet. While that debacle wasn’t exactly his fault, I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  “Feel free to return here at your leisure,” the Sylrithar said with a knowing smile. “Now, allow me to show you to your quarters.”

  If the elves’ workings inside the tree were awe-inspiring, the canopy was downright jaw-dropping. Aerion and I were rendered speechless the moment we stepped out of the tunnel and into the mystical forest.

  “You’ve got to be shitting me,” I muttered. “A forest on top of a tree?”

  Nor was it any normal forest. The very air sparkled, like it was made of crystals. The trees here looked positively ancient, their trunks soaring up into the sky and spreading their branched high above, while the floor was covered in ultra-green moss, shrubs, and all manner of wildlife. It was like we’d just walked into another world.

  Yet despite the wildness of everything, picturesque trails wound through the forest floor, carefully manicured and tended to.

  “Behold the canopy,” the Sylrithar said with a proud sweep of his arm. “Only a select few are allowed to lay eyes upon this sacred place. Leaders, those who have contributed to the clan, and esteemed guests.”

  “Wow. That’s, uh, very nice—”

  “You do us a great honor, Sylrithar,” Princess Aerion interrupted me with a bow of her head. “We are pleased to receive your hospitality.”

  The Sylrithar stilled for a moment, clearly surprised at Aerion’s words. “Are you highborn, by any chance?”

  Aerion pursed her lips. “Afraid not.”

  “My apologies,” the Sylrithar said. “It was not my place to ask. Now, if you’ll come this way, I’ll show you your accommodations.”

  “But, there’s nothing that way,” I said, watching the elf walk to the edge of the canopy. To the very edge, where all that awaited was a thousand-foot fall.

  “Oh, don’t worry. You’re staying in our most lavish guest suite. I think you’ll find it quite comfortable.”

  Aerion and I glanced at each other. That was nice. Really nice, honestly. I was sure we’d come to appreciate it in the days that followed.

  But right now? I just wanted one thing, and a single glance at Aerion told me she wanted the same.

  To return to the training hall and fight to our hearts’ content. How many levels awaited with the tree’s boost? How much would we progress?

  I couldn’t wait to find out.