Bramble Burn Read online

  “Don’t worry, love. I’d let you have a turn on top,” he said with a wicked smile.

  She felt her eyes turn green and had to leave. It was leave or attack, and he would make certain that attack ended one way. It was how dragons rolled, and she’d fallen into the trap of sparring with him, she thought as Twix carried her away.

  Was that how her mother was caught? All her life she’d heard tales of dragon wiles, and she knew what kind of mate Breaker would be. Proud, cruel if needed, he had a reputation as an ultimate warrior. If dragons feared him, she would have no chance.

  That hadn’t stopped him from stirring her up. Stupid dragon.

  She was vibrating with nerves when she got home, and eating didn’t help. She had to vent, desperately needed an outlet. It was barely noon; why not make the fourth tree?

  There were several reasons why not, but she rode out to the fourth compass point anyway. Her magic swirled inside her, a beast ready to flex, and she was almost disappointed when no one challenged her.

  The park was deserted. Wrecked cars and old tires littered the area that had clearly become a garbage dump. “How much salt did they use?” she muttered, dismounting. It felt like a dump truck had dropped an entire load. In the early days, the government had been willing to try anything to contain the wild magic, and salt had been a common myth. It saturated the ground here, probably making it a popular salt lick among the local wildlife. A tree would never grow here.

  Time to try something different. She placed salt marsh grass seed on the ground and reached for the magic. It leapt to attention, grabbing the seed. She braced herself as scientific law battled with raw magic energy, forcing the roots deep, past the ruined ground to fresh water. Salt crystals crawled up the plant stems, became one with the grass, swelling it to giant proportions. She was aware of Gilly’s landing on a ruined building, but ignored it. Let Gilly watch for danger; she had work to do.

  The pillar of salt drew taller, wider, as every grain was drawn from the soil. Grass stems wove throughout, providing a living framework.

  Her bracelet vibrated in warning.

  Juniper let go of the magic and leaned on her staff, recovering. The pillar was anchored.

  “It doesn’t look like the other trees,” Gilly said, landing next to her and resuming her human form.

  “So? It’ll work.” Juniper took a deep drink of the strawberry lemonade in her thermos. She needed to recharge.

  “What happens if it doesn’t?” Gilly demanded. She knew about tree mages.

  Juniper shrugged it off. “What happened today? You took off.”

  Gilly looked away. “Panic attack. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what happened until later.”

  Juniper took a last look at the sparkling white salt pillar and started walking, allowing Twix to follow. “Does this happen a lot?”

  Gilly looked miserable. “No. I think…you know Dad’s always warning me to watch out for other dragons, and that one…”

  “Yeah, I know. He freaks me out, too.” Juniper didn’t want to think about it. “Well, now you know what to expect. Maybe it will go easier next time.”

  “You expect to see him again?” Gilly asked anxiously.

  Juniper grimaced. “I don’t know how to avoid it. It’s not like I have dragon repellent.”

  Gilly snorted. She looked closely at Juniper and frowned. “I think you should ride. You look terrible.” She stopped and laced her fingers together without waiting for a reply, her natural confidence restored. “Here, I’ll give you a boost.”

  “Thanks,” Juniper muttered, creaking into the saddle. She took one last look at her pillar, checking the connection. It was sound, but she felt a niggle of worry. Would it be enough?

  “We call it Grunt,” Grigori said proudly. He patted the hood of the big green army truck. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

  “It looks like a tank truck,” Juniper said cautiously, eyeing the giant tires. “I bet those tires aren’t cheap.”

  He nodded enthusiastically. “It’s armored, and it weighs a ton. We think we can get a good price for it. Kon fixed the parts he could, and we salvaged the rest. Hey, do you think you could grow a tire tree? That would be cool.”

  “I wouldn’t have the first clue how,” Juniper admitted. “I know nothing about cars.” They were outside, enjoying the sunshine, an activity made possible by the werewolves she knew were prowling somewhere. There wasn’t that much cover, only two trees and a hedge, but she could feel them out there. She wondered if Kjetil had warned them she wasn’t feeling kindly toward wolves right now, or if they were giving her privacy.

  Kjetil hadn’t called, hadn’t stopped by, and she didn’t know what that meant. She told herself she was grateful he wasn’t around to distract her.

  She had a lunch appointment with Thornshadow that afternoon. He’d picked one of her truffle buyers, although he probably didn’t realize that. She wasn’t surprised at the venue; he’d struck her as the fine dining type. Since she didn’t own anything remotely appropriate, she’d decided to go in her “fancy” bullet proof vest and change at the restaurant. She had a burgundy leather vest Kjetil’s sister hadn’t wanted, and she’d wear it over a short sleeved, black silk shirt, also from the sister. There was a red leather jacket, too, but it was too warm for it.

  Kjetil’s sister had a thing for leather.

  Grigori was still going on about the truck’s specs, so she said hastily, “That’s great! Hey, I need to get out of here soon. Let me know if you get any bites on the truck. Congrats on getting it running.” She took a step toward her tree and paused, looking up. “What are those?” A pastel swarm glittered in the sun, slowly drifting toward them. She squinted, trying to identify the worm-like, winged bodies…

  “Heads up!” a man shouted, and the day exploded in gunfire.

  Juniper yelped at the thunder of guns and instinctively cringed, unsure where to run. Grigori grabbed her and shoved her into the truck, slamming the doors behind them. The guns were somewhat muted by the metal, but flying snakes continued to rain on the truck with dull thumps, splattering the glass and hood with blue blood. The barrage of gunfire lasted for a couple of minutes and slowly petered out, leaving the lawn covered in sparkly winged serpents and splatters of blue gore.

  Something large thumped on the roof, surprising another scream out of her, and a werewolf in human form jumped to her lawn. He peered in the truck. “Are you all right?”

  Grigori cranked down the window. “Is it over?”

  The man squinted at the sky. “Seems to be, but stay put for a moment while we make sure.”

  Heart hammering, Juniper looked at her lawn. She’d gotten careless. Just because there hadn’t been any boars recently, didn’t mean the Bramble was safe. She thought of her sister and stiffened, petrified. “My sister!” Gilly had gone job hunting, and she hadn’t planned to return until that afternoon, but what if she changed her mind?

  “The dragon flew off this morning and hasn’t come back,” the man assured her. “I think it’s safe to come out now.”

  They cautiously climbed down from the high cab, heads swiveling.

  The man shot a snake on the ground, making her scream…again.

  “Sorry, it twitched,” he said, grinning.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Thanks.”

  He nodded and used sign language to communicate with a shifted werewolf in the branches of the oak tree. “He says it looks clear.”

  She flicked a hand at the grass, directing it to bury the gore. “Bet you’re sorry you decided to hang out today.”

  His brows shot up. “Why do you say that? It was excellent target practice. Much more interesting than the range. By the way, we saved a couple of carcasses to analyze. The snakes might be poisonous.”

  “You have a strange idea of fun. Let me know what you find out about the snake, please. We might have to start carrying antidote.” Shaking her head at the crazy start to her day, she headed to her tree over the newly clear ground to fetch Twix. She c
ouldn’t wait to get out of here.

  Juniper ate another roasted Brussels sprout, surprised to find she liked it. They’d called her mother’s frozen, boiled sprouts “Martian heads”. She wasn’t sure her mother had even seasoned them, and the slice of processed cheese she’d slapped on top had been the only condiment.

  Clearly, the chef here knew what he was doing. Maybe she should revise her opinion of fine dining. She used to think it was a quick way to waste money that could be better spent on tacos, but this was exceptional.

  She even liked the quinoa salad with cranberries, mint and sliced almonds, and she wasn’t into grain “salad”. Having saved the best for last, she used her knife and fork to cut a piece of the messy Korean pork sandwich with pickled turmeric onions and homemade sriracha mayonnaise. The flavor explosion surprised a moan out of her. It was almost as good as Bubba’s BBQ.

  “I take it you approve,” Lord Thornshadow said, mildly amused. “This is one of my favorite places to eat. The chef owns it.”

  “He certainly owns it,” she said fervently, taking another bite. “I think I have a food crush.”

  Thornshadow grinned. “I’m glad you like it. I heard that you’ve supplied the chef with fresh truffles. You’re a legend among the local foodies.”

  She shrugged. “I’m glad he likes them.”

  “You have some interesting agricultural products,” he commented, taking a bite of Thai Beef Carpaccio with chili-lime vinaigrette.

  If she knew him better, she would’ve asked to try a bite. “I dabble.”

  “You’re too modest. Do you have a marketing plan?”

  She took a sip of honeyed tea. “Honestly, I haven’t had time to worry about it. Mostly I let my tenants sell what they can and share the profits. The other trees produce useful goods so no one will be tempted to use them for firewood.”

  “Speaking of fire, only the oak is truly fireproof, correct?”

  “Both residences are fire resistant,” she said cautiously. Where was he going with this? “It takes a lot of energy to grow the tree, and adding bells and whistles while I’m standing in the open isn’t wise.”

  “Of course. We can help with that, if you allow it. All we would like in return is a chance to study the plants you create. There is little chance anyone could replicate your work, since the conditions at Bramble Burn are unique, but it might inspire others. There are professors at the university who would love to take specimens, and I can think of several students who would make excellent interns.”

  “Interns,” she said slowly. The interns he recommended would all be elves or elven allied. They were big on power building. “You know the park is dangerous.”

  “That’s why the city gave you the chance to buy Bramble Burn. Your methods are working, and we’d like to keep you alive to finish the job. Together, we could make the city a safer place.”

  She must have looked skeptical, because he leaned closer. “The elven community sees you as an asset, Ms. Baily. We want you to succeed.”

  Hm. He made a very compelling…. Her vision suddenly went white. She hissed and grabbed the table, afraid she would pass out.

  “What is it?” Thornshadow stood next to her, a steadying hand on her shoulder.

  She blinked hard and gripped the table as the backlash receded, leaving her breathless. “My tree, the new one. Someone destroyed it. I need to be there.”

  Thornshadow issued orders, and in moments he was supporting her as they walked to his car. “I’ll have your Black Adder fetched,” he said, helping her into the back seat of the plush car.

  She shook her head, but it made it worse. “He bites.”

  “I have good people, Ms. Baily. Now, where do we need to go?”

  “My latest tree. Drive past the park entrance and keep going.” She took deep breaths, calming her body. The passing scenery made her nauseous, so she averted her eyes.

  “If I understand correctly, when your tree was attacked, you suffered magical backlash, correct? May I?” He gently touched her jaw, angling her face so he could peer into her eyes. “Does your head hurt?”

  “Some. Mostly I’m dizzy and I want to throw up.”

  He nodded and took her pulse before removing a kit from a compartment under the seat. He held up a vial. “This is for nausea. I’m going to open this under your nose. Please inhale deeply.”

  The sharp, minty vapor cleared her head and settled her stomach, helping immensely. “Thank God! That sucked.” She rubbed her temple gingerly. Now that she could think again, it occurred to her that things could get rough. “I don’t know what’s waiting at the tree. You might want to drop me off.”

  He gave her the kind of look men gave women who said stuff like that to them. “I’m prepared for that, thank you.”

  “Right. Good.” She looked at the seat next to her and touched her staff. “Thanks for grabbing that. I appreciate the assistance.”

  “You’re welcome. How are you feeling? I’m afraid you don’t look to be in any shape for…exertion.”

  “I have to look at the tree. Breaking it won’t have hurt the park, but it will take me a couple of days before I can grow another.” It was frustrating to have to start over, and it stung. Her tree wouldn’t have been so easy to destroy if she’d done it properly. She could have created a salt clump with the grass, had the salt hauled away, and started with fresh ground. She’d been lazy and overconfident. Her grandfather would have been ashamed.

  Her shoulders drooped, but she did her best to shake the feeling. No, grandpa would be angry, not ashamed. He’d demand to know what she’d been thinking and tell her to do it over, making certain she did it right that time. He’d be angry because he was concerned about her.

  Concentrating on the reality of the situation helped. Nothing was broken that couldn’t be fixed. She could do this.

  The site was swarming with elves in combat armor. The brown and black armor was lightweight but tough, a slimmer version of the elegant ancient knight, and probably contained Kevlar. That, or a magical equivalent. These elves had the short hair of warriors, and there was a mix of modern trucks and elven steeds.

  A dark haired elf with hard eyes greeted Thornshadow. “My lord, scouts have cleared the buildings around the park, but there is something odd about the park itself. We’ve sent scouts, but the deeper they go, the larger and stranger the park seems.”

  Juniper looked at Thornshadow askance. “Bit of overkill for a tree.”

  Thornshadow didn’t smile. “When the granddaughter of the Lord of the Blue Wood nearly faints over magical backlash, it pays to exercise diligence. I have some idea of your abilities.”

  She looked at the tree to avoid their scrutiny and hissed. She hurried to the pieces and stared. The tree hadn’t simply fallen; it had shattered. “What the…” She knelt and picked up a shard, shaking her head in disbelief. “I know it was made of salt, but grass wove it together.” The structure was strong…unless something threw a boulder at it? She looked for a likely missile or bullets, but there was nothing, and no smell of gunpowder.

  “There’s no sign of a weapon, cut or burn marks,” the commander said as he and Thornshadow joined her. “There are also no large animal tracks.”

  “Magic, then.” She frowned at the base, suppressing the ache at the sight of the obliterated stump. It hurt like a broken tooth to see the poor thing lying there. She probed it and recoiled in pain. Her vision flashed white as the roiling magic in the stump slapped her skull. Someone had stirred it to a froth and used it to explode the tree. She slapped a hand over her eyes, trying to ease the pain. “Ow! Ow, ow, ow.” She waved away Thornshadow, leaning on her staff. “It looks like someone else was able to access Bramble Burn, at least enough to wreck the tree. They left it a mess; it’s like hot soup in there. The park is going to be unstable until I can…ah!” She shrieked as needles of freezing rain pelted her, falling unheralded from the clear blue sky.

  Chaos exploded as Thornshadow threw up a force field, shielding the two
of them from the furious rain. Through a sudden mist, she caught sight of the attacker, a grey-blue centaur-like creature with sharp teeth in an ugly face, hands raised to blast the elves with icy needles. Small white creatures like a leathery cross between a moth and a bat swarmed around him, creating a force shield that repelled bullets and projectiles. Two soldiers threw fire at it; one with magic, the other with a flamethrower, with no effect. Two others flung white-hot streams of energy, but the beasty shield held.

  Meanwhile, the needles of rain continued, and storm winds howled. The elves staggered and one was knocked to his knees.

  The creature looked at her and smiled.

  Instinct made her growl. The wild power inside her bared its teeth, sensing a challenge. She’d been attacked on her land, her tree destroyed. This interloper would pay.

  “Ms. Baily,” Thornshadow began, but she brushed his shield away and snarled into the driving rain. Using the staff, she shot her will into the earth and into the churning magic, using blind rage to subdue it. Her skull pounded like a wrecking ball, but she pushed through the pain, seeking life under the creature.

  It carried seeds stuck to its tail.

  She laughed, a low, nasty sound of triumph, and told the seeds to grow.

  Minutes later, they cautiously crowded around to look at her work.

  “Great Father preserve us,” the commander swore, staring at the creature rooted to the ground. He lay on his side, all but obscured in a web of thick wooden roots.

  “Impressive, Ms. Baily,” Thornshadow said respectfully. “If I may ask, why is he alive?”

  She exhaled slowly, allowing the power to ebb. Her bracelet was vibrating, and her head might as well be. “Grandpa said not to let my trees eat creatures,” she explained, her voice thick with fatigue. Even her bones hurt, so she held very still; if she moved, she might fall over. “They learn bad habits.”

  “Ah.” Thornshadow nodded at the commander, who promptly shot the monster. “You’re shivering. May I escort you home?”