The light took her.Mara felt herself dissolving—not dying, but changing. Her body remained, but her awareness expanded, stretching beyond flesh and bone. She was still holding Astrid, still kneeling on the ice, but she was also everywhere—in the pillar, in the void, in the roots of the tree that stretched beneath the world.She saw everything.The god. Vast and terrible, a hunger that had existed since before time. It filled the void, pressing against the door Eira held, cracking it with every pulse of its being.Eira. Small and fading, her form barely visible against the god's immensity. She was holding the door with everything she had—her memories, her identity, her love for the world she'd left behind.And Astrid. The girl was glowing, her small body a beacon of green light. She was the key—the piece of the god that could be turned against it. The poison in its blood."Mara."The tree's voice was inside her, around her, part of her."This is the moment. The child must give herself

The peace lasted six weeks.Mara should have known it wouldn't last. Peace never did—not in this world, not in any world. There was always something waiting in the shadows. Something hungry. Something afraid.She was tending the sapling when the first scream cut through the morning.Mara dropped her tools and ran. The settlement was chaos—people fleeing, shouting, pointing toward the eastern edge of town. She pushed through the crowd, her heart pounding.She found Ingrid standing over a body."Who?" Mara asked."Helga. From Karvik." Ingrid's face was pale. "She was on watch. Someone cut her throat."Mara knelt beside the body. Helga's eyes were open, staring at nothing. Her throat had been slit—clean, precise. Professional."This wasn't an animal," Mara said."No.""Where's Niko?""He's tracking. He saw footprints leading north."Mara stood. Her hands were steady. Her voice was calm. But inside, she was burning."Gather everyone. We need to figure out what we're dealing with."The set

They left at dawn.Mara stood at the edge of the settlement, watching the volunteers gather. Forty-two people—not soldiers, but survivors. Hunters, fishers, farmers. People who'd lost everything and rebuilt from nothing. People who weren't willing to lose it again."We're not an army," Ingrid said, appearing beside her."No. We're something better.""What's that?""People with something to fight for."They moved south along the ice road, the same road Mara had traveled weeks ago with Astrid. The memories hit her with every step—the child's hand in hers, the green eyes, the small voice. She pushed them down. Grief was a luxury she couldn't afford."The Black Keep," Niko said, falling into step beside her. "I've heard of it. Old fortress, built before the settlements. No one knows who built it or why. It's been abandoned for centuries.""Until now.""Until now." He paused. "The worshippers chose it for a reason. It's isolated, defensible, and built on a site of power—a place where the v

The first sign of trouble came at midnight.Mara was asleep when the tree's presence surged inside her—not warm, not comforting, but cold. Urgent. Afraid."Wake up."She opened her eyes. The sapling outside her window was glowing—not soft green, but a harsh, warning light. Its leaves trembled though there was no wind."They're coming."Mara was on her feet before she fully understood. She grabbed her knife and ran outside, shouting for the watch."Everyone up! Now!"The settlement erupted into chaos. People stumbled from their tents, confused and frightened. Ingrid appeared, rifle in hand, her face pale."What is it?""The tree. It's warning me. Something's coming.""Worshippers?""Worse."They came from the north.Not worshippers—soldiers. A hundred strong, marching in perfect formation across the frozen plain. Their armor was black, their weapons gleaming with unnatural light. At their head rode a woman in crimson robes, her face hidden beneath a hood."Who are they?" Ingrid whisper

The valley bloomed.Mara stood at the edge of the settlement—real buildings now, not tents—and watched the sun rise over the mountains. Six months had passed since they'd found this place. Six months of planting, building, healing. Six months of peace.It wouldn't last.She felt it in her bones—the same way she'd felt the god stirring, the same way she'd felt the tree dying. Something was coming. Something old. Something patient.But not today.Today, she would watch the sun rise. Today, she would tend the garden. Today, she would remember.The tree had grown.Not the original—that ancient silver giant still stood at the valley's heart, its golden leaves shimmering in the morning light. But the sapling from the seed—the child of the first tree—had grown into a young oak, strong and green, its roots spreading beneath the settlement.Mara visited it every morning. It was her ritual—a moment of quiet before the chaos of leadership. She'd sit beneath its branches, close her eyes, and list