Darragh dreamed of angry vines and red eyes in the darkness. He dreamed he was tied to the same tree he tied Easy to, except the tree was on fire. He was on fire. He dreamed he was in a burning cabin, except there was no one to embrace him as he died.

  Darragh woke up screaming. Janus and Esbern woke up screaming, too.

  Esbern looked around in a blind panic. “Am I still dreaming?” he asked the darkness.

  Calvin was sitting nearby, calm and collected. “You had the nightmares, didn’t you? The same nightmares that tormented me last night. We’re being hunted.”

  Janus looked like he wanted to insult Calvin, but he stayed quiet.

  Darragh grew up hearing fairy tales about magical creatures in the woods. He never minded those stories, but that was before he killed a fae queen and before their camp spontaneously ignited in blue flames. A vengeful spirit didn’t seem so improbable anymore.

  Calvin continued, “You didn’t believe me at first. In Garden, all the forest spirits were killed long ago. But in Exile, a few spirits survived. They keep to themselves mostly, hiding from humans, but when I was little, every now and again, I used to hear stories of wayward travelers who angered a forest spirit. According to the stories, the only way to free ourselves is to slay the forest spirit.”

  “That is superstitious nonsense,” Janus said. “But say we indulge this fantasy of yours; how does one slay a forest spirit?”

  “In the stories, the hero pulls out the spirit’s heart and crushes it.”

  “Gruesome,” Darragh observed.

  “And how would we find this spirit?” Janus asked intensely.

  Calvin didn’t answer at first. The forest fire still roared, and Esbern was wheezing, but the relative silence lingered into a pregnant pause. Finally, Calvin looked out into the darkness and whispered, “It’s near. It’s watching us, waiting for us to tire.”

  “You sound crazy and paranoid,” Janus said unconvincingly.

  No one slept the rest of the night. In the morning, everyone was slow, irritable, and exhausted, but no less determined to finish their mission. There was only one place left on their map that needed to burn. Then they could return to Waterbreak Church as triumphant heroes, having conquered unholy forest monsters.

  But before that could happen, they paddled for hours in the blistering heat. Esbern passed out in the canoe. Janus was too tired to complain. Calvin was unnerving and serene. Darragh’s shoulders were sore from the constant rowing. He used to be able to row for days comfortably, but about a month ago, Darragh got sick after a drunken encounter. He still hadn’t fully recovered.

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  They reached the mossy banks of their destination by midday.

  Esbern groaned in agony as he got out of the canoe and stretched his stiff back.

  “Let’s get this over with,” said Janus.

  “Wait,” Calvin said. “This is it. If you go into those woods, the spirit will attack.”

  “I am sick of your shit!” Janus yelled. “Just shut up!”

  Esbern could barely stand, much less reprimand Janus for his outburst. He just leaned on a branch and wheezed.

  Janus turned away from Calvin and Esbern to look at Darragh. “You’re with me?”

  Darragh nodded grimly. “Let’s get this over with,” he echoed.

  “Alright, Brother. You and me. Let’s go.” Janus put his hand on Darragh’s shoulder, and for the first time in his life, Darragh felt accepted by a Gardener.

  Darragh wanted to bask in the moment. He activated his power, slowing his perception of time. He wanted to remember every detail of Janus’ proud, handsome face. The gentle squeeze of Janus’ hand on Darragh’s shoulder. The beauty of nature before them. The desolate wasteland behind them.

  The forest spirit lumbered out from behind a tree. It was massive, like a walking oak, covered in moss and vines, and moved with unnatural speed. Even in slow motion, the monster knocked Calvin high into the air and grabbed Esbern by the throat before anyone could react.

  Calvin’s body rag-dolled and slammed onto the ground with a lifeless crunch. Esbern was gasping and clawing at the vines and bark squeezing his neck. The monster roared at Esbern and began to slowly crush his bones like a boa constrictor crushing a mouse.

  Darragh and Janus shared an understanding glance. They knew what to do.

  Janus summoned an illusory wall to hide them from the monster. They ran toward it. As they got close, Darragh jumped out from behind the illusion and reached into the monster’s chest. Blood was dripping down from Esbern’s shaking feet. He was moaning in agony. Darragh’s hand pushed aside vines and moss and found something circular. He pulled hard and yanked out what looked like a large seed.

  The monster roared and dropped Esbern to the ground, making a series of cracking sounds as his broken bones collided with one another. Esbern released a final groaning sigh and then was silent.

  The monster wrapped its vines around Darragh, and he knew this was the end. The last thing, the only thing he could do, was throw the monster’s heart.

  As Darragh felt the squeezing crush of death upon him, he wondered if he hadn’t chosen the wrong side. He felt a slow, dreadful certainty that his entire life had been wasted, chasing the approval of men he despised. Darragh had betrayed his people and burned his homeland, all so he could live, and now he was about to die. There was a poetic irony to it. He closed his eyes and welcomed the end. When he heard a crunch, he wondered if it was his bones, but suddenly, the vines released him. He fell to the ground, alive and unbroken.

  Janus dropped his illusion, and Darragh saw him with a large stone in his hands. He had crushed the forest spirit’s heart and saved Darragh’s life.

  Darragh and Janus embraced as Brothers and survivors.

  They set fire to the last patch of forest, then returned to camp at the same spot they had camped the night before. Tomorrow, they would return to Waterbreak Church as triumphant heroes, having slayed the monster and freed Safo from unholy influence.