Lifting his hands, he slammed both against the Godstone, sending a painful shockwave up his arms. “Why didn’t you save her?” he screamed. The sound ripped up his throat like a razor blade. “She devoted her entire existence to you. Why couldn’t you save her?”
Caelan slammed his hands on the Godstone a second time, wishing he could make the damn thing shatter. A massive burst of energy exploded from the stone, slamming into Caelan. Bright light enveloped him and he was thrown backward, but the world stopped. He never hit the ground or even flew out of the room.
The Tower disappeared.
Stormbreak disappeared.
The bright light dissolved into a fuzzy, soft green. Holding his hand in front of his face, Caelan blinked, bringing the vision into focus. Everything was green. It was like being in Queen Noemi’s conservatory in Sirelis. All around him were lush green plants and colorful blooming flowers. It had to be real. Their exotic scents drifted past his nose and danced on the air. Birds sang, hidden among the leaves.
He wasn’t terribly surprised by the change in venue. When he’d met Kaes for the first time, the God of Storms had swept him out to a fishing boat in the middle of the ocean for their chat. Of course, the God of Storms had attempted to drown him during their meeting as well, so there was still some hope that his talk with Tula would go a little better.
Then again, maybe not after shrieking like a lunatic at her.
Hesitantly, he took a step forward, not sure where to go. Trees, shrubs, and flowers closed in on him from all sides. Sunlight glittered and broke between the leaves, keeping back vague hints of shadows.
“I didn’t want her to die.” The voice was soft and lilting like birdsong.
Caelan twisted, trying to spot who had spoken or where the voice had even come from, but there were only trees and plants.
“Of all the Guardians, she spoke to me the most. Every day she would visit me and tell me all of her thoughts and secrets. She spoke of you often and with such love,” the voice continued.
“Why couldn’t you save her?” Caelan demanded of the air.
Branches shifted. At first he thought it was merely a breeze rustling the leaves, but the willowy branch drifted lower, revealing a narrow face with wide blue eyes like deep pools. Her skin was green like soft moss. The branch was actually an arm.
He couldn’t blink or he risked losing her completely to the forest around them. She was perfectly camouflaged. The goddess staring at him was a plant brought to flesh. Her long hair rippled down her back to the ground in a blanket of blooming flowers. Vines and bright-green leaves wrapped about her slender form.
Beyond the dropping of one arm, she didn’t move. She just stood there, watching him like a skittish deer waiting for him to attack.
“Because every life has an end,” she answered at last. “Amara knew that her time was over. When the Empire attacked, they made sure to leave nothing of her and Hagen for me to heal. I’m so very sorry.”
“Can you help me defeat the Empire now?” Caelan asked, struggling to keep the sharpness out of his voice. While the Goddess of Life might seem timid, she was still a goddess. She might be able to heal, but he suspected that she might be pretty good at stealing life as well.
Tula seemed to hesitate before finally shaking her head slowly.
Caelan swore softly and paced a couple of steps away. He swung toward her, his hands balled into fists at his side. “Then why did Kaes send me back here if you can’t help? Why not have me go straight to New Rosanthe to take care of the Emperor? Surely the God of Storms is powerful enough to handle New Rosanthe.”
“Because defeating New Rosanthe won’t stop the trouble that is destined to fall on Thia. You’re not strong enough to defeat her.”
Caelan didn’t need to ask who Tula was talking about. He remembered too clearly the woman hanging on Emperor Suen’s chair. Power had radiated from her even through the video screen. “Who is she?”
Tula lifted one arm and waved what appeared to be a fan made of palm fronds in front of her face. A kaleidoscope of bright-blue butterflies swarmed out of the fan, twirling and dancing up into the sky. Tula’s eyes followed them for a while then gazed at him again. “I’m not sure. I can’t see much of her. Only glimpses of how she crosses through your lifeline.”
“You can see the future?”
The goddess nodded, lowering her palm fan. “Lifelines stretch out from me, and I can read them, but hers has been ripped from my hold.” She frowned and then took a step toward him.
Caelan was not proud of the fact that he stumbled back two steps for each of hers. It was unsettling to see a tree walking. Trees weren’t supposed to move. And now that she was moving, it was clear to see that she towered over him by several feet.