She accompanied them to Katta’s tent, a place off-limits to all but his closest companions and the other deities. The coolness of the interior washed through her essence, and the darkness of the carpet and upholstery softened the residual glare of Light. She sighed, happy to be away from the watery heat and brightness for a moment. Navosh chuckled and sank into a padded chair, too heavily for her liking.

“What the trees love isn’t so lovely for us, is it?” he asked.

“No,” she agreed as she sat in a pillow-seat and folded her hands, wondering if she should say something, or ignore the struggle. “I had read about rainforests before I came here, but the descriptions of heavy, heated air don’t do it justice.”

Salan yipped at Navosh and flumped down on the soft black carpet, the tip of his tail brushing the plush yarn.

“True. Fur in this weather isn’t a boon.”

Katta retrieved a pitcher and poured the misting contents into a black-tinged glass. He handed the water to the other deity, who accepted with a murmur of thanks, then filled Salan’s water dish and another glass for himself. He guzzled the drink before sliding onto the top of the table and crossing his legs, leaning back.

“What do you wish to ask?” She hoped she sounded polite and not antsy.

“The Bendebares are the heart of the Labyrinth,” Navosh said. “It knows something is wrong with them, and it wants me to help heal them. I, of course, agreed. My twisted vines are a part of it, after all.”

“Kjiven contaminated the grove,” Vantra said.

“With another’s help. I’ve spoken more with Zepriz on it—and he’s reticent because he’s afraid I’ll punish him for the damage the Rotting One caused.” Navosh narrowed his eyes, and his lips firmed. “They honored this fake deity before Kjiven conscripted my mantle, but I’ve the impression the ceremonies took place nowhere near the Bendebares. That was on purpose, I think. If the Rotting One stepped foot within, I would have known, and I would have killed the false tongue before they harmed the Labyrinth.”

She shuddered at the dark promise in those words.

“It’s not uncommon for other deities to claim Greenglimmer as their demesne and confront the Labyrinth, thinking to drive it from their new home. It has a far, far prior claim, and if they don’t acknowledge that, they disappear.” He ran his palms over the top of his head, smoothing his whitish-blue hair. “I wonder if the Rotting One was a claimant that bowed to it, but resented doing so. That would explain why they took advantage of my imprisonment.”

“The Elfiniti has hundreds of deities,” Katta murmured.

“The rainforest at large, perhaps, but Greenglimmer? No. The Labyrinth is covetous of this land, and only a few have passed its tests, like Tenathi. She did not care if it wanted recognition. The dwellers’ need for a healer drew her, and it realized, what a boon she was for the leaves. There were others, of lesser magic and younger years, who acknowledged it and managed small followings among the villages. I fear they hid from Kjiven, or he sent them to Evenmourne.”

Evenmourne? “Is that the native inhabitants’ evening lands?” Funny, Vantra did not recall the Finders mentioning the name.

“Yes. Levassa renamed it, and none dare tread on his goodwill.”

Oh.

“After Tenathi and a handful of others, I came along, a being who wished to understand its essence, not just study what physically lived beneath its leaves. It thought I was an odd one, but through persistence, it dropped its vines and let me peek into itself. I discovered a new way to behold the forest and its peoples. I can’t say I agree with its every assessment, but I can appreciate them.” He leaned forward, lower arms laying across his thighs to prop him up. “I love the Labyrinth and all its peculiarities, and Kjiven’s Touch attempted to eradicate what made it special. He wanted a servant to his whims, not a companion. And the Labyrinth, accustomed to me, my inquisitiveness, my mildness, did not understand.

“It gave him access to its being, thinking he would ask questions and ponder the nature of the rainforest; instead he infected it. That’s what initially happened to the Bendebares, and from Zepirz’s admittance, the Rotting One guided that poison into more destruction. It’s what I need to cleanse. And that is what I wish to ask, Vantra. Clear Rays is powerful in your hands. That spell was designed to rid an entity of the Touch of a syimlin, and we need that right now.”

He thought her powerful enough to aid the rainforest’s recovery? “But what about Tenathi?”

“Tenathi heals wounds of the body and mind. She doesn’t have a spell to break the corrupted link between the remnants of Kjiven’s mischief and the Labyrinth—though I think she would like to learn, if it’s possible to pass it on.”

“I can teach her what I know, though it might be better for her if my mother shows her. She has experience tutoring others.”

Navosh nodded. “If you wish. I haven’t seen your mother cast Clear Rays, just you, though as a Sun-touched priestess, I have no doubt she wields it effectively. Unfortunately, we can’t wait for Tenathi to make it a part of herself.” He licked his lips. “And I can’t trust her to destroy the Bendebares. She’s a healer, and will insist on saving that which might be beyond saving.”

“Tenathi knows better,” Katta murmured.

“Yes, but a healer’s pull is to heal, not harm. And destroying the Bendebares will bring harm to the Labyrinth—just not as deep a harm as allowing them to continue festering. From what Zepirz has said, I may not recognize the Bendebares—and they may not recognize me. Vantra . . .” He trailed off and sighed, a heavy, almost defeated sound. “The vines can cleanse the waters, but even they can’t fight what now swims within the grove. I’m not certain I can fight the corruption. I need you to accompany us when we visit, and if things go poorly, destroy the Bendebares with Clear Rays.”

She gawked at him. “I can’t do that!”

“The Labyrinth can grow a new heart. It has done so for millennia upon millennia. But the corruption can’t reach its soul, Vantra. If it does, then the entire rainforest is lost to us. It likes what its become, and it doesn’t want to fall to the bad magic of Kjiven and the Rotting One. You’re the only one who knows this spell intimately enough to use it to its full potential.”

“I would like to accompany you, too,” Katta said. “It is a darkness against which you battle, and I can aid in that. I also want to feel this Rotting One’s Touch. The remnants of it at Kjivendei were too intermingled with other castings for a good grasp of it.”

The twisted one raised an eyebrow. “To see if the Beast’s hand rests within?” He rubbed his chin with a bent index finger. “I’d like to know as well. The cocoon protected me, and I couldn’t sense anything outside it. Upon return to plant the vines, I can’t say I recognized it as the Beast’s Touch.” He pursed his lips and rose, shaking his head. “I must see to Zepirz and Ayara. Despite appearances, he’s in a delicate state of mind. He’s internalized much of the blame, however silent he is about it. Not that he isn’t culpable, but he isn’t the singular being responsible for what happened. He shouldn’t shoulder another’s burden.”

He pushed through the tent flap, and Vantra watched it fall back into place before glancing at Katta. She still did not know how to behave around him now that she knew he was a syimlin, but he preferred casual, and who was she, to tell a divine that was not appropriate?

“I can’t destroy the Bendebares.”

“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Katta said. “But Navosh is worried, which is why he asked. His access to the grove is severed, and the Labyrinth itself is afraid to bypass the barrier, because it doesn’t want to be trapped within.”

“That’s what Navosh meant about the rainforest being cut off, isn’t it.”

“Yes.”

She dropped her gaze to her clenched hands. “I caused a lot of harm to the forest. How can he trust me with this?”

Katta cocked his head. “You mean the fire?”

She nodded; what else?

“Remember, more than a fire damaged the forest, and Kjiven instigated most of it. The flood ripped through far more of the land than your fire.”

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t hurt the Labyrinth.”

“No, but you now have a chance to heal it. An apology, for the flames.”

She rubbed at her chest and sank back. “I never thought I might have to use Clear Rays to cleanse a forest of a syimlin’s touch. It seems too fantastical.”

“You’d be surprised, at how often the fantastical pops up when greed and power drive a being.”

Salan yipped in agreement.

She wanted to ask more, receive some reassurance that what Navosh wanted her to do was necessary, but Fyrij zinged through the flap, a distressed blur of speedy black, and zipped into her hair. He dug his talons into her shoulder and pressed against her neck, shuddering. She stroked his furry back and wings; did she want to know what her little darling had done? He better not have bothered Kjaelle; her mood since the tower’s fall swung from depression to unmitigated rage, and Fyrij’s chipperness at the wrong time annoyed the elfine.

“Were you with Kjaelle?”

He blubbered.

Katta rubbed at his lips, a poor attempt to hide his smirk. “He says no.”

She firmed her lips. “Then what did you take?” she asked. Not all thought him cute enough to ignore his thievery. Beads, bright stones, beautiful flowers, nothing extravagant, but that did not mean the owner approved of him snitching them.

He snuffled.

“He says nothing. Did you bother the listeners?” Katta asked, cocking his head. He croaked, a sad, pathetic sound. “Hmm. I think we discovered the culprits.”

“Come on Fyrij, let’s get you something to eat,” Vantra said, rising. Sequestering him in her tent with food would keep him away from the dwellers.

Katta shook his head with amused sympathy, and she ducked out. Maybe it was for the best; she did not want to stumble over her churning thoughts in front of a syimlin.