At first, as my eyes settled on the woman, I thought she must be a dryad of some sort. But as I took a deeper breath, and the scent of distinctive nature elemental blended with faerie magic flowed through my nose, I settled on something else. I didn’t have the name for it, exactly, but it was something adjacent to a nymph. Or perhaps a sylph, but one that had been permanently grounded? I may not have known the species, but I knew I was going to have words with the Erudite when we got back, though. This was not an ordinary elemental plane. There were now two beings that possessed some semblance to faerie magic, and both of them were powerful enough to give a seventh circle wizard a run for their money.

  But that wasn’t the time for such thoughts, so I stepped forward and bowed deeply. I intentionally didn’t keep my eyes on her. If I had been alone, I might have been rude enough to look at her while bowing, and thus imply that I didn’t trust her. In fairness, I didn’t trust her. But I did trust my friends. Sure enough I was able to rise without any incident, and I was able to speak.

  “Honored spirit of the wood, we greet you. Our mentor cast the four of us to this place a few sunrises ago, in an effort to ensure that we had the strength needed to survive. We have made an effort to take only dead wood that had already fallen to the forest floor, so as to not cause offense, but if we need to leave a small offering, I would be willing to discuss a price.”

  The woman stared at me, her eyes shifting to a color somewhat like that of honey, before she inclined her head.

  “You have cleansed many of the plague-ridden four-legged poisons from the land. For the dead wood you have thus far acquired, that is enough, even for one with such an offensive odor as you and your god-hewn brother at arms. But take no more today.”

  “Understood,” I said, while Yushin slipped her hand into Jackson’s, squeezing tightly. Salem stepped forward and bowed to the woman as well.

  “Venerable Lauma, are you familiar with wizards?”

  There was a soft sound as leaves throughout the forest shivered, and she looked at us more carefully, before extending her hand. A staff bloomed into existence, and I drew a charge of pre-cast ethersight from my ring to examine it. It was similar to a staff as created by the mage tools ritual, but not the same. Stranger still, the reserve of ether within the staff was vast, and it seemed to have a spell imbued into it. It reminded me of my own affinity imbuements, but it was clearly different. Markedly so, in fact. It was as if someone had imbued an entire forest affinity into the staff.

  But that would be impossible. Imbuing an affinity required an appropriately powerful material for each option, meaning that the infinite possibilities of an affinity required infinite ether density. That staff was a powerful artifact, containing a pool of ether far denser than my own, but it was nowhere near infinite. Then a necklace materialized on the Lauma, containing an affinity for protection, and I frowned, even more confused. Finally, a slender circlet of storm magic formed over her forehead.

  All three of them were clearly a part of her spirit, like my own mage tools were. They weren’t simply enchanted objects, they were her power. I remembered what professor Toadweather had said about planeswalkers sometimes coming back with familiar powers given new forms, and wondered if this was an example of that. A difference of form, not substance.

  “I am a wizard,” the Lauma said. “I can sense ether in each of you as well, but it is very limited and strange.”

  “Aye, we are wizards, and we seek to improve our ability. Our own staves have the ability to grow by adding new, better materials. A mighty Lauma such as yourself, you would doubtless know of the strongest trees in the spirit, and be able to ask for their wood without insult. What would you ask of us, for four pieces of good staff wood for our wizardry?”

  “That is not how an affinity regalia works,” the Lauma protested. “Even if I brought you the most ether dense woods, you would not be able to utilize it. Or, are you saying that you have an affinity for crafting?”

  “It… shares some similarities an’ such,” Salem responded hesitantly. He was clearly as confused as I was, but was careful not to outright lie.

  “I see. Is this your roundabout way of answering my question, mortals?”

  “Aye, tis,” Salem agreed. “And it is not. Our mentor did send us to this land for training. And we came to your forest for materials.”

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  “It is my question to ask now, children. Have you heard of the Song of Mind’s Death?”

  Salem glanced around at us, and we slowly shook our heads. The Lauma’s lips curled up in a mocking sneer.

  “I would not expect as much. Do you at least know of the magic of songs?”

  “We know of it, in broad terms, though none of us use its power for ourselves,” I said hesitantly. “Why do you ask?”

  “Deep in our forests lies a stone flute, one used by a mortal such as yourselves,” the Lauma said. “One who visited near on seventy-thousand sunrises ago, who wielded the power of song, and he too sought the materials of our forest. Not staves of wood or beautiful flowers, but fruits of the ancient singing trees to further his power. He attempted to slay our mother dear, but with each note his own end grew near. She struck him down, but a spell he cast, his final crown. Trapped in song, mindless was she, forever bound by the magic of he. Remove this curse upon our creator, and your staves of wood I shall cater.”

  I wondered if she had intentionally broken into rhyme as the story had gone on, if it was simply the side effect of her nature as a partial-fae, or if it was an oddity from the true tongue spell. But deciphering what I could…

  “This may be the source of psychic power that you had sensed, Salem,” I said. He pursed his lips, but nodded his agreement.

  “Seems likely,” he said, then turned to the Lauma. “Do you need the flute destroyed? Or simply removed?”

  “So long as our mother is free, I do not care, and I am the voice of the people,” the Lauma responded. “Now, leave the forest. You bring two flame wielders, and one with a taint not far gone from the depraved hounds. When you seek to free our mother, speak the name Kilyriza into the air.”

  “Wait,” Salem said. “I may need to study the magic around the area. M’ not a songcaller, but I am a psychic.”

  “You test my patience, mortal child. Very well. Three times and three times alone will I ferry you to and from the glade. But you and you alone for two. The third, all of you I will bring, and you will break the magic.”

  “Do we have your guarantee of safe passage and rights as a guest of the woods on these trips?”

  “Yes,” the spirit said, though she looked visibly annoyed at saying it. “So long as you all agree not to speak of the contents of the frozen glade where she is trapped to any outside of your group.”

  Salem looked at us and his face creased in concentration. A moment later, I felt all of our minds connect, and he began to speak into my mind, rather than aloud.

  “I’m going to accept the deal and go now to look. With that promise, we should be safe. I want you all to wait just beyond the edge of the woods for me to return. I have a plan to potentially protect myself and maybe even steal the flute to be used in a mage tool, but we need a backup plan in case their mother attacks. Start coming up with strategies to counter her magic.”

  I sent my assent, though I was wary, and the others did as well. Salem turned and bowed.

  “We accept your offer. I will take my first visit now.”

  I felt as magic settled around me, rushing from the faerie magic of the Lauma’s bloodline. It settled into place, and I was just glad for the obvious out – while we got something if we broke the magic on their mother, we didn’t owe something if we failed. Before I could say anything, though, Kilyriza raised her staff and slammed it on the ground. Ether exploded from it, and the trees began to bend down, using their branches to shove us out of the forest. In the same moment, roots wrapped around Salem and Kilyriza, pulling them deeper into the forest.

  The trees finally stopped shoving us once we were back on the field. I idly killed one of the toxic dogs approaching us with an arcane missile, then cast hidden conversation as we walked a few steps away. After all, I didn’t know if the trees might be listening to us.

  “Right,” I said. “Let’s plan for how we can get Salem back if Kilyriza doesn’t uphold her end of the bargain. She’s a lot stronger than any one of us alone, but probably not all three of us as a group. I have some ideas with abjuration magic, since I can tune my energy barriers to resist her specific affinities and her bloodline…”

  We spent a while discussing different ideas, with me occasionally recasting hidden conversation, and with Jackson blasting the monsters that sometimes approached us, until Salem finally emerged from the woods two hours later.

  “How did it go?” I asked, pulling him into a hug as soon as he appeared.

  “Well, I think. I got some idea of what m’ working against. It’s not going to be easy. It’s a three part spell, sustained by the flute. The first part is constantly gathering power to sustain itself. The second is keeping the mother’s mind to the beat of the song. It’s not really mindlessness, so much as forced thought. The third applies the same magic to anyone who tries to break the spell. That’s part of why they don’t want us talking about it, I think. There are nearly two dozen people trapped by the same mind magic as their mother. Most are Lauma, but there are also three moles and one… thing.”

  “That’s not good,” Jackson said. “What can you do?”

  “I think my goal is just to hold it off long enough that I can cast mage tools on the flute, absorbing it into my spirit and rendering its magic inert. It’s a powerful item, trapped by the final song of a master songcaller in a psychic song. Even if it isn’t built to be a mage’s tool component, it should work well for me specifically. How did your planning go?”

  We filled Salem in on the plan as best we could, before slowly making our way back to our defended cottage, picking off dogs as we moved. We spent most of the rest of the day training our spells, working on Yushin’s ritual, studying the bloodlines of the dogs for a spell and some spellglyphs, and working on Salem’s psychic affinity spell to hold back the power of the flute, before finally turning in for bed. We turned in a bit early that day – after all, tomorrow we would be meeting with the moles, and possibly trying to kill the alpha of the poisonous dog-monsters.

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