each, leaving the catapult unguarded. “Surround him and throw your spores!” he shouted, and they spread out to encircle him. Mogen came to a halt, stood in place, and peered down at them, apparently unconcerned, maybe even slightly amused. Trying to take him out with the spores wasn’t a terrible stratagem except that Mogen was clearly ready for it. He waited and watched Vin, his eyes daring the greensleeve to proceed. And Nef, seeing that I was watching this unfold, came to a halt himself. My siege crew still had no idea and continued to work on launching gourds over the walls.
Vin called out for his crew to throw their gourds, and Gorin Mogen took a deep breath, crouched, and expelled a wave of fire from him in all directions as the gourds came his way. They melted or exploded, and any spores that escaped were singed in the air, never reaching him. A few members of the crew, including Vin, were caught in the fire blast and fell away, rolling in the grass and trying to smother the flames.
After that effort, however, Mogen’s face was a mask of pain and he was slow to get to his feet. The exertion of that kenning exacted a heavier toll, perhaps, than he had expected, and it did nothing to improve his mood despite saving him from a likely defeat. When he did rise from his crouch, he took his anger out on the catapult with his axe, reducing it to splinters with repeated blows and ignoring the Fornish, who presented no threat to him. I surged forward and told my crew to abort the mission and run for cover in the forest, taking any surviving member of Vin’s crew with them if they could. Then I backed away from the catapult, fading as much as I could back into tall grasses. There was only one way to stop him, and none of the others had thought to do it because greensleeves are taught to think of preservation above all, including self-preservation. But while I had much to lose, Gorin Mogen no longer had anything to lose: I assumed he lost his hearth to the boil of kherns, because she was lavaborn, too. So he would kill and kill until the plains were scourged clean of his enemies or one of them found the courage to do what needed to be done.
Vin Tai ben Dar was in no shape to do it, and his actions already had demonstrated that he did not see the only branch leading to victory. If I did not do it, no one would. Mogen would destroy our catapults, retreat inside his walls, burn the Nentian army, and wait for reinforcement from Hathrir. The Canopy would be forever in danger from Hathrim predation if I did not stop him. How could I refuse such a clear duty? I sent out silverbark shoots from both my shins and my forearms to plunge into the earth. I sent out all of them.
“What are you doing?” a tiny voice broke through the noise. It was Nef, suddenly running toward me again, one hand outstretched, pleading. “Nel, don’t try it!”
My mouth twisted in regret. He and I would have been such a winsome couple. The garden we would have grown together would have been lush and fragrant and nurturing, and I truly should have kissed him when I’d had the chance. I longed to kiss him now. But I could not possibly place my happiness above the safety of the Canopy. “I’m sorry, Nef,” I said softly, doubting he would hear me, but I imagined he could read my lips well enough, and that would have to be our farewell.
I tore my eyes away and heard him shout “No!” but he didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was defeating Gorin Mogen. The roots, at least, were already there, coaxed from the trees on the hills to lash the catapults in place by each crew’s greensleeve. But now they must do more, take on girth and strength, for Mogen was not inanimate timber; he was a giant firelord. Making that happen, channeling that energy and forcing that rapid growth so far from the Canopy, required will and strength I might not actually possess.
My fingernails dug into my palms as I concentrated and let my consciousness meld with the trees, forcing pulp and sap to move and grow by my command. The buildup began as Mogen finished dismantling Vin’s catapult. The roots bulged and