be built. I had carefully considered the visions and concepts I would use to talk to the Green Knight.
I pricked my finger, dumped the soil, and let a few drops of my blood run into it. Not sure what would happen, not sure if the tree would try to hurt me, I reached out and touched the trunk with my bloody palm. Nothing happened, just my palm against the cool bark. I closed my eyes.
In my vision, the Green Knight stood in a pasture, his hand on the pale green horse’s neck, the mane tangled with flowers. He was unarmed, though still armored. Waiting. Attentive.
I showed the knight myself, my sisters, and, just across the road, two massive warcats, one spotted green, the other a green so dark it was nearly black. They were crouched on the three grassy acres, taking up all of the empty land, their tails coiled around the house and in the trees on the far side. Foot-long fangs; claws like curved blades, extended. This was an image of my power, my threat, the power of Soulwood.
The horse leaned down and grazed, chomping. The Green Knight stroked the neck of his horse, his hand in the mane.
Just like last time, I sent it images of the vampire trees being cut down, shaped into logs, some cut into boards. Of being made into a house, just there on the bottom of my property. Beside the house I envisioned a tiny vampire tree growing and spreading its leaves over the house, protecting it. This was my offer. The Green Knight would accept a job to do, to become a house, perhaps more than one, in return for being allowed to live.
The Green Knight and the horse simply stood there, the horse grinding tender shoots of grasses. This was not agreement, but it was better than a vision of it attacking, the vision of its anger, of dragging me under the surface of the earth and killing me.
Without opening my eyes, I said, “Your turn, Esther.”
Paper crinkled. “Ouch! Dagnabbit! You’un sure this ain’t witchcraft?”
“I’m sure. It’s simply plant power. Put your hand beside mine on the tree. Close your eyes. Tell me if you see anything.”
“Mama would be having kittens.”
“Mama ain’t here,” Mud said, her voice hushed, awed. “Ouch! Okay. I got blood too.”
I felt Esther lean near me. Place her palm beside mine. Mud’s bloody palm went beside Esther’s.
In my vision, the Green Knight looked at the hands, his helmet moving slightly side to side. He removed his gauntleted fist from the horse’s mane. Slowly, as if he feared we might harm him, he reached out with both open hands. Gently, he placed his palms against Esther’s and mine. The wood beneath my hand instantly became smoother, slicker, not quite the warmth of flesh or the smoothness of steel, but something in between.
Beside me, Esther gasped. “You’un feel that?” she whispered.
“Yes,” I said. “You see anything?”
“A meadow full of tall grass. And one tree smack in the middle of it. Kinda looks like a live oak from the shape, but its leaves are paler, softer, and shaped like maple—” Esther inhaled fast. “It’s like my leaves. Is this my tree?”
“It could be. We have to claim the land, and claim anything we grow on the land. We’re plant-people. Our true home is the land and the trees that grow on it.”
“I like it. It’s pretty. It’s growing flowers in big white bunches.”
“Mud?” I asked.
“I don’t see nothin’ but a green horse. It . . . Ohhh. It put its head against my hand.”
In my own vision, the Green Knight stepped back and looked at his blood-coated palms, shocking scarlet with blood. He bowed his head.
The horse stepped back, tail switching. A scarlet handprint marked his face, where a blaze might have gone. Mud gasped, “I got me a tree horse.”
“Okay. On three,” I said. “One, two, three.”
We removed our hands. Opened our eyes.
“That right there was amazing,” Esther murmured, her eyes lit with wild joy. “Okay. Let’s go claim my patch of land.”
We rode down the hill in John’s old truck and sat on the small grassy area where the house would go, a ways away from the raw dirt of the septic system and downhill of the well. Esther pricked her skin again and placed her hands on the ground, mingling her blood with the earth. A small vine unfurled and twisted from the ground and around Esther’s wrist. Her eyes closed in ecstasy.