Praise for Deathriser of Darkwood:
Into the Fire

Here’s the first full chapter of Deathriser of Darkwood: Into the Fire. Spoilers ahead!!! IF YOU HAVEN’T READ BOOK ONE, FROM THE ASHES, YOU’VE BEEN WARNED.

Chapter 1: Plumetines

The bright orange auradamia is the first ripe one Tera has seen in a week. She rubs her thumb over it, half-wondering if it's nothing more than an illusion spell. Plucking it delicately, she tucks it into the basket hung from her arm. The wicker on it jabs at her bare skin as she walks down the row of crops. Things have already changed since she and her siblings arrived at Emmaline's family farm. Everything was green when they first came knocking at the door, desperate for a place to stay after Darkwood burned to the ground. Now, nearly half of the crops sit dead, hunched over like weary old men. Not long after her arrival on the farm, crops started struggling. The faun family played it off like it was a usual thing, but it didn’t take long for Tera and her siblings to see their panic.

Exhausted and overwhelmed, Tera spent the first few days there sleeping. One day while going out for a walk in the fields for some fresh air, she caught Emmaline hiding behind some trees, crying over the worsening state of the farm. Ever since then, Tera has thrown herself into farmwork, doing and learning everything possible to help. When Emmaline tried insisting it wasn’t necessary and that everything was under control, Tera insisted it felt better to be doing something than to sit around anyways.      

As Tera walks down the aisle between the dying auradamias and the plumetines (which were clinging to life far better than anything else), withered brown leaves drop from the auradamia plants, floating and drifting to the ground.                                                                                                                                                

When she reaches the end of the row, she lets herself into Emmaline's home, making a beeline for the kitchen where she knows her friend will be washing up the day's produce before dinner.

"You won't believe what I found," Tera locks eyes with the faun before reaching in her basket for the single piece of fruit. Her fingers are met with wet slime, and she yanks them back.

Looking down into the basket, she sees the auradamia has popped, spilling out dozens of wriggling tespi worms.

"Eeeugh," she moans, wiping her hands on her patchwork pants.

Emmaline steps over, her two hooves clacking against the dusty kitchen tile. She motions for Tera to show her the contents of the basket, and upon seeing them, she frowns. A strand of her strawberry blonde hair falls into her face and she tucks it behind her ear as she looks up to meet Tera’s amber eyes.

"I suppose even the worms are desperate for food right now." She sighs, putting a hand on Tera's shoulder. "Don't worry. Nani told me about times just like this when she was a girl, and she got through it. We will, too."

Tera smiles unconvincingly. “I never thought I’d miss farm work,” she admits. “It’s been a nice distraction.”

"This is a waste of time," Zeyla whines, barging into the kitchen with a slam of the door. "Why are we bothering to check the stuff that's obviously already dead?"

"Just because something looks dead doesn't mean it is," Emmaline replies with more patience than Tera could ever muster up for her younger sister.

"You'd think a deathriser could resurrect some plants or something, too," Aston says, walking in right behind Zeyla.

"Literally makes no sense," Tera says with a scrunched face. "We use life from plants to resurrect. How would we put life into plants?"

"Maybe pull it from people? Like annoying little sisters?" Aston shoots a dramatic look at Zeyla, who drops her basket on the ground and storms over to an empty rocking chair to sit down with a huff, her messy bun of copper curls coming loose.

"I don't know why he even bothers joking about you resurrecting.” Zeyla says, adjusting her bun. “We all know how much you suck at that anyways."

"Uncalled for," Tera says.

Don't let her get to you, Aeridonis reassures. She's just hungry. And stressed. You all are.

Tera rolls her eyes at the old wizard’s voice in her head. "I wonder what'll happen to you if I starve to death while you're stuck up there," she says before walking over to help Emmaline wash and peel a stack of plumetines.

I'd rather not find out.

"Then we need to do something."

I've already told you; there's nothing you can do. The Council is investigating everything right now, I'm sure of it. I know they didn't believe you before, but even they can't deny something is amiss when the entirety of Darkwood was burned to the ground. They'll take care of it.

"They don't even know where the draxxi are, so how are they going to know the protection was broken? They won't. I've told you this over and over and you don't listen! You just keep secrets about this whole… situation. I guess at least, if you’re keeping secrets, you’re not lying to me again."

I didn’t lie to you.

She scoffs, slamming the basket on the counter. “Oh, that’s rich.”

Emmaline’s gaze flicks over to Tera, but she bites her lips and stays focused on the plumetines. When Tera and her siblings first arrived, they filled her in briefly on the mess with Aeridonis in Tera’s head. Tera told her how the marrow elves had been seeking out the draxxi. Aeridonis had been hiding away the large, black, scaly creatures with huge wings and mouths full of needle-teeth. For a long time, he was using them in some mysterious way to prevent an old marrow elf curse from harming the kingdom, only, he withheld the information about their use from Tera. When her half-elf best friend, Kiran, released the draxxi, the arboreal elf hometown of Darkwood burned to the ground—presumably at the hands of the marrow elves as some sort of punishment.

“The Council is useless,” Tera nearly spits in anger. “We can’t trust them and we can’t trust you. It’s up to us to figure this out. Somehow.”

Aston and Zeyla watch Tera, intrigued but altogether unsurprised by their sister's arguments with the voice in her head.

They'll sort it out.

"How?"

Well, if nothing else, I'm sure your friend's farm isn't the only one feeling the impacts of the curse. They know the signs. You don't give them enough credit.

"And you give them too much,” she says, snatching a plumetine up from beside Emmaline. She begins to peel it, nicking off little bits of the outer flesh with each stroke of the worn-out old peeler.

I tell you what you need to know. At the time, there was no reason you needed to worry about the true use of the draxxi. If your friend hadn’t released them, Evalyra would still be protected from the curse, and there’d be no reason for you to ever worry about it.

“Yeah, but he did, and so now I am.”

I understand that.

“No, you don’t. Otherwise, you’d stop keeping information from me.” Her tone starts to get desperate, with a hint of a whine as her eyes begin to sting. “Because now there’s reason for me to worry. So, why would you keep hiding stuff from me?” The plumetine grows blurry through her bubbling tears.

There's nothing you can do about this, Esotera.

A grumbling yell vibrates deep in Tera's chest and it boils over. She slams down the partially peeled plumetine and storms out the door. Hot tears cling to her lashes as she sits behind a stack of empty crates, burying her face in her arms.

The sound of flapping wings draws her attention and she looks up, wiping away the wetness beneath her eyes.

Perched on one of the empty crates, a raggedy looking tawny owl stares her down, holding a folded up paper tight in its beak.

“Again?” Tera asks, her voice cracking as she lets out a shaky sigh and collects herself. She leans forward, pinching the paper. The owl releases it and continues watching her as she unfolds it.

Tera,

I hope you’re safe. The last bird I sent told me it found you and delivered the letter, but since I haven’t heard back, I’m not so sure it understood. Guess that’s what I get for trusting a peota bird to the task! Haha! I told her to stop at a few other places on her way and act natural so she doesn’t draw attention to wherever you’re hiding out. Just in case. I hate that the letter must not have reached you.

I think you’d really like peotas. They’re tiny and their feathers look a lot like leaves. You’d almost think they were a plant themselves, so I doubt you’ve ever noticed, but you’ve probably seen them before! If I ever see you again, remind me to tell you about the ways their feathers change to match seasons, different biomes, even the weather! I almost thought about using a flaenet since we have so many near the house nowadays, but I figured that was a bit excessive. They’re kind of like dogs, but with wings and feathers. I honestly don’t know where they all came from, because I’d only ever read about them in my World Creature Studies class!

Anyways! If this owl doesn’t find you, I’ll have to find a raven next. Can always count on them to find someone!

Miss you,

Kiran

A lump forms in Tera’s throat and she tries to force it away with a swallow.

You can’t send a letter back—

“I know, I know,” Tera whines. “I hope you know I’d never do that to Emmaline. Or her family.”

What does Emmaline have to do with it?

“If the marrow elves figure out I’m here because I start sending letters back, you don’t think they’d do to Emmaline’s home and farm what they did to Darkwood?”

That’s a—

Tera continues, ignoring him and growing more frazzled as she goes. “Sure, they’d find me, but that’d be a personal risk. Sending a letter back doesn’t just risk me though, it risks my siblings, my friend, and her whole family.” Her voice cracks on the word “family,” and a tear spills over onto her cheek. “So no, I’m not going to send a letter back. And no, I don’t need you reminding me.” She sits back in her hiding spot behind the crates and tilts her head against the wall with a thunk, looking up at the cloudless blue sky.

When the owl doesn’t leave, Tera makes a shooing motion with her hand and stares it down through teary, blurred eyes. Eventually, it gets the message and lifts off, flying farther and farther into the distance until Tera no longer sees it.

The door creaks open sharply, startling her in the silence. Aston peeks outside and calls her name. When she doesn't answer, he clears his throat.

"Well, I guess if you're not out there, I'll have to go chuck fireballs at the creepy scarecrows myself. Someone ought to teach them a lesson."

Tera lets out an amused huff and Aston tilts a long ear to the sound. He appears around the crates and gives Tera a comically mischievous grin, holding out a hand to help her up.

"You're stupid," Tera says, tucking the letter in her pocket and accepting his hand.

"Not as stupid as those scarecrows are about to look after they find out they messed with the wrong elves!"

Tera rolls her eyes, following her brother to the creek near the edge of Emmaline's family property. When they reach the slow-rolling water, they stop. Aston points at a lone scarecrow with a lopsided, stuffed burlap face and a frilly polka dot shirt.

"You first," he says, motioning to the scarecrow with a swoosh of his arms.

I still think they could repurpose these things instead of letting you two recklessly waste them like this.

Tera ignores his remarks, holding her hand out, focusing on any warmth around her—not hard to do on a summer evening like this. The heat begins to tingle at her fingertips. Looking down at the tan skin of her arms and hands, she braces herself to cast. Peering back up at her target, she throws her hand out toward the figure with a snap, and it instantly erupts in blazing scarlet and honey flames. Fire laps at the lacy trim of the shirt as Tera looks at her brother.

"Your turn," she says.

"To do what? There’s nothing left!" He chuckles. "Who needs Pipwerry when you have me as a teacher?"

"Um, me? I still want to be a deathriser, not an elementalist. Fire spells are fun, but I want to actually finish my studies one day. Not to mention... I still want to... you know... Dringely's note." Tera lets out a shaky sigh.

She thinks back to when she first heard Aeridonis’s voice in her head. It was almost exciting, in a way, until she realized he couldn’t leave. All because she cast a resurrection spell on his pile of ashes, rather than a body, outside Summercloud Fair. With no body for his consciousness to come back to, it hitched a ride in her head and has been there ever since.

"We're not going to focus on your professor right now. You'll get to her eventually.” He holds his hands out, focusing for a moment before water rains down on the small fire, extinguishing it with a hiss and leaving behind ashes. The blackened head of the scarecrow drops to the ground with a wet thump. He turns back to her and says confidently, “She'll separate you and Aeridonis like she said in that letter and things will be sunshine and crystal elves again. But for now, you've gotta keep playing farmgirl and pick plants and burn scarecrows with me."

She smiles weakly.

"I’m surprised they don’t shape these a bit more like themselves. They look more human or elf, rather than half-goat, half-human.”

Tera looks at the burnt pants of the scarecrow. “I don’t think they look like anything in particular, I guess.”

He puts his hands on his hips and turns to her. “Either way, your friend's family has way too many of these things. Do you have it in you to burn one more?" he asks.

"I think I've had enough for now." She sighs. “Just not as fun as it used to be. Or maybe I’m just not in the mood. I don’t know… I just want to go inside, I think.”

“Is everything okay?” Aston asks, grabbing Tera’s wrist before she can disappear. He looks at her with fixed intensity, not letting his grip loosen.

She throws her head back and looks up at the sky. When she meets his eyes again, hers are full of tears. “I want to go home, but home doesn’t exist anymore. I want Mom and Dad, but who knows if they’re even alive. I feel stuck and freaked out and I don’t know what to do about any of this.” She taps her forehead. “And I’m tired of not having any privacy. I want to be able to talk to you guys without him butting in. And I want to see Kiran again. Did you know he’s been sending me letters?” She digs in her pocket and pulls out the paper, holding it out to him with a shaking hand.

Aston pauses before taking the letter and opening it.

“I know he sounds hopeful and all in the letter, but that’s just how Kiran is. He has no reason to believe I’m even alive. He probably thinks I’m dead. And I can’t do anything to tell him otherwise.”

He skims over the letter and looks up at her. “Oh, Tera. I’m so sorry.” He takes a deep breath and straightens himself. “We’ll figure this out. Somehow or another. One step at a time. And right now, that step is just for us to stay safe and think about what to do next.”

“The farm is dying,” Tera says bluntly. “I’m not so sure anywhere is going to be safe for much longer.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you or Zey,” he says, pulling her close and smooshing her in a bear hug. She lets out a pained squeak and he loosens his grip with a “sorry!”

“Thanks,” she says softly, not making eye contact when he releases her.

Without another word, Tera turns on her heel to head back to the house, leaving Aston by the side of the creek.

~

Later that evening, Emmaline sets a bowl of deep red sludge in front of each person at the table.

Zeyla's lip snarls up at the sight of the mush and she dips her spoon in and out of it, letting the food gloop back down into her bowl with a sad splatter.

"My favorite!" Emmaline's grandmother, Nani, beams at the bowl. "And you make it just as good as my mama did when I was little. You should be proud, Emmy."

Emmaline blushes and humbly bows her head before taking her seat at the corner of the long table.

"We lived off of nothing but plumetine porridge until I was old enough for my parents to marry me off to your Papi. It wasn't long after that when everything bloomed again. I remember it like it was yesterday! We thought it couldn't possibly get any worse after the daytime had practically disappeared."

"The... what?" Tera asks.

Emmaline's mother lets out a dainty cough. "Don't mind Nani's stories." She smiles and bats her thick eyelashes. "Nani has always had such a beautiful imagination and a natural gift for storytelling."

"It was the first time I had seen snow in the farmlands," Nani continued.

The faun mother clears her throat again. "Nani?" she says politely.

"At the time, I had never seen anything quite like it! The closest thing I had to compare to snow was the dry skin Papi always had sprinkled on his shoulders after he scratched his head thinking too hard." Nani chuckles and continues, ignoring the impatient stares of both of Emmaline's parents.

"Enough," Emmaline's father warns, his tone gentle but stern.

"You haven't even tasted the porridge," Emmaline changes the subject, pointing to the untouched bowl in front of her grandmother.

"Of course!" She pops a heaping spoonful into her mouth. As Tera’s focus shifts to her food, she can see the shoulders of the faun family soften.

She dunks her own spoon into the red gunk and eats. This isn't the only time she and her siblings have had to eat the spicy dish. The first time, Emmaline and her family seemed so unfazed by the heat from the plumetines that Tera and her siblings assumed it was mild. Tera had shoved a spoonful in her mouth, not knowing what to expect. It was only a matter of seconds before she started drooling from the unexpected spice. Nearly a month and a half later, the three arboreal elves now finally feel numb to it.

After dinner, Tera leaves with Aston for a walk around the property. She loves her friend dearly, but it’s impossible not to feel undeniably tense cooped up in the house with the fauns.

"I still don't understand why they won't at least let me try to use magic," Aston says, leaning down and pinching off a crispy leaf between his fingers, rubbing them together and letting the dead piece disintegrate and float away.

"You do understand, you're just being stubborn."

You can't really judge your brother too much. If you knew how to do it, you probably would've already tried it by now.

"Whatever," Tera grumbles.

"All I'm saying is, it's worth a shot. Would they really know? I can be subtle about it. They'd never know it came from me."

"Aston, they're not stupid."

"I know that!"

"They're going to know where the storm came from if they never get summer storms here."

He let out a whiny groan. "That's probably why nearly all the crops are dying. It's too hot out for them to be getting no rain. Let me fix that!"

"You know as well as I do that some rain isn't going to fix this."

"What are you talking about?" he asks.

Tera puts her hands on her waist and stares at him with a flat face.

"Okay, yes, I know you said Don said it's from the curse, but don't you think the dry weather is only making it worse? The curse probably would kill the crops a lot slower if they actually had everything they needed. Like water."

Tera shakes her head. "The fauns know what they're doing a lot more than we do. I've seen you kill basic bean plants in your bedroom before. Besides, they didn't ask much of us when we moved in. Literally one of the only rules was no magical interference with the crops. We don't have a home. I'm not about to get us kicked out of the only place we've got right now."

"Then go back to the house and they won't think you were involved. I'm doing this. A home isn't going to do us much good if we starve." Aston glares at Tera with a fierceness she's never seen from her brother. Her fingers find their way up to her scalp and through her copper curls as she anxiously picks at an old scab, trying to think of anything she can say to stop him.

You know I'm not in favor of using magic against people if it's not necessary, but I can try to quickly teach you a freezing spell if we need to stop him for a little bit.

"It wouldn't matter. He's got his mind set on it and he'd do it as soon as he thaws anyways. I'm just disappointed. Mom and Dad would be too. They raised us to respect other people’s cultures better than this."

"Survival above culture, Tera. I respect culture but look around you!" He motions to the fields of dying crops. "It’s gone downhill so fast. We can't just live off of plumetines. And who even knows how much longer those'll last. Until the Council figures out a way to stop the curse—if there even is a way—we need to take care of ourselves."

Before Tera has a chance to say another word, Aston holds his hands out at his sides with his palms up, his face focused.

Tera shakes her head and turns her back to her brother, receding to the house just before thunder rumbles through the farm. As she steps into the kitchen, Emmaline and her family race across the room and disappear out the door. She turns around and follows them back out, her heart racing.

"No, no, no! What are you doing?" Emmaline cries out to Aston, who stands soaked in the middle of the storm.

"Making sure my sisters don't go hungry," he calls over the drumming of raindrops against dirt and leaves.

Nani shoves past Tera and the cluster of fauns, walking with purpose straight toward Aston. Tera notices the old broom in the elderly faun’s hand seconds before she begins whacking Aston in the shoulder and arm with it.

"Agh! What are you doing?" he yelps, jumping away from her swings.

"Make it stop, you flesh-footed, pointy eared, wax-for-brains—" her insults fade out over the noise of the storm and her broom thumping every time it makes impact.

The storm begins to dissipate. Thick and warm moisture hangs in the air, and the smell of wet soil fills Tera’s nose. Lingering drops of water cling to the tips of withered leaves, tumbling to the dirt when gravity gets to be too much.

Nani keeps hitting Aston with the broom, never seeming to run out of energy and rage.

"Enough, enough!" he cries. "It's done! Stop!"

"It's done when I say it's done, elf!" Nani whacks him a couple more times before stopping and smoothing out the broom bristles as she retreats into the house, not saying a word to anyone.

Aston looks to Tera, his copper curls soaked and disheveled, and his oversized shirt from the fauns sitting lopsided on his thin frame as he nibbles at the inside of his cheek. She just shakes her head and follows the fauns back into the house.