Elara's POV
"Hello, Garden-Speaker," Victor says, and the door behind me seals with dark magic. "Let's begin."
I don't waste time talking. I slam my power into the ground.
HELP ME!
The earth answers.
Roots explode through the concrete floor—massive, ancient roots from trees that have been growing above this facility for decades. They smash through Victor's ritual circles, shattering the magic draining the children.
"What—NO!" Victor screams as twelve floating kids drop safely into nets of woven vines I grew in half a second.
"You made a mistake," I say, my whole body glowing green. "You trapped a Garden-Speaker underground. Do you know what's down here, Victor? Everything that grows. Every root system under the entire city. And they're ALL listening to me now."
The walls crack. Roots punch through everywhere. Victor dodges, but barely.
"Impossible! You're too new, too weak—"
"I'm done being weak." I spread my arms and PULL.
Every plant in Silvercrest responds. Not just the ones nearby—ALL of them. Trees in parks miles away send their roots snaking underground toward this facility. Gardens throughout the city bloom at once, their energy flowing to me through connected root systems. Even the grass in people's yards leans in my direction.
I'm not just one Garden-Speaker anymore. I'm connected to an entire city's worth of living things.
And they're ANGRY.
"The children!" I shout to the vines. "Get them out! NOW!"
The vines grab the kids gently, pulling them toward cracks in the walls where I can sense my allies fighting above.
"STOP HER!" Victor roars.
But before he can attack, the ceiling explodes.
Kieran drops through, claws out, fury blazing in his golden eyes. He lands between me and Victor like a silver shield.
"You want her?" Kieran snarls. "You go through me first."
"Gladly." Victor's hands ignite with red magic. "I killed the last Guardian who loved a Garden-Speaker. I'll enjoy killing you too."
They clash—ancient power versus ancient rage. The room shakes with their violence.
I want to help Kieran, but the children are crying, terrified. I focus on getting them to safety, using roots like highways, transporting them through the earth itself toward where Luna and the werewolves are fighting.
Almost there. Almost safe. Hold on.
Then someone grabs me from behind.
"Hello, sister."
I spin around and my heart stops.
Lydia stands there—but she's not dead. She's WORSE. Victor's dark magic has transformed her into something nightmarish. Her skin is gray. Her eyes glow red. Dark vines grow from her body like tumors, pulsing with stolen power.
"Surprised?" She smiles with too many teeth. "Victor brought me back. Made me better. Stronger. He gave me one last chance to prove myself—by killing YOU."
"Lydia, he's using you—"
"I DON'T CARE!" She screams, lunging at me. "I'm finally special! Finally powerful! And I'm taking your abilities for myself!"
Her corrupted vines shoot toward me. I block with healthy roots, but her dark magic is strong—really strong. She's been enhanced way beyond what she was before.
We fight through the crumbling facility. Her attacks are vicious, fueled by eighteen years of jealousy. Mine are defensive, trying not to hurt her despite everything.
"Why won't you DIE?" Lydia shrieks, frustrated. "Stop defending! FIGHT BACK!"
"Because you're still my sister!" I dodge another strike. "Victor's controlling you. This isn't really you—"
"THIS IS THE REAL ME!" Her vines wrap around my throat, squeezing. "The me that's done being second best. The me that TAKES what she wants!"
I can't breathe. Black spots dance in my vision. Lydia's face is twisted with hate, with madness, with the desperate need to matter.
And suddenly I understand.
She doesn't want my power. She wants to BE me. The girl everyone fought for. The girl who was special without trying. The girl who was loved.
"I'm sorry," I choke out.
Lydia blinks, confused. "What?"
"I'm sorry you felt invisible. I'm sorry Mom and Dad made you compete with me. I'm sorry Victor used your pain." My hands glow despite her vines choking me. "But this isn't the answer. Stolen power isn't real power. And you can't kill your way into being loved."
"SHUT UP!" Tears stream down her gray face. "You don't know anything! You were ALWAYS special! I was ALWAYS nothing!"
"You were my sister." Green light flows from my hands into her corrupted vines. Not attacking—healing. "And I would have loved you if you'd let me."
The dark magic in Lydia's body screams as my pure Garden-Speaker energy burns through it. She staggers back, releasing me.
"No—what are you doing—STOP—"
"I'm freeing you," I gasp, pouring more power into her. "Victor's magic is poison. Let me help you."
For one second, Lydia's eyes clear. She looks at me—really LOOKS at me—and I see the girl who used to share a house with me. Broken. Scared. Lost.
"I'm sorry," she whispers. "Elara, I'm so—"
Then Victor's voice booms through the facility: "LYDIA! KILL HER NOW OR I'LL DETONATE THE FACILITY WITH EVERYONE INSIDE!"
Lydia's eyes go wide with horror. "The bomb. He wasn't bluffing. He really planted a bomb—"
The entire building shakes. Somewhere below us, I feel it—a massive explosive device connected to dark magic, designed to level everything within a mile.
And the countdown is already running.
"Everyone OUT!" Kieran roars, abandoning his fight with Victor. "EVACUATE NOW!"
Above ground, my allies scramble. The children are mostly out, thank god, but dozens of fighters are still inside—werewolves, mages, Garden-Speakers, Guardians.
"How long?" I scream at Lydia.
"Two minutes. Maybe less." She's sobbing. "I didn't know. I swear I didn't know he'd—"
"Can you disarm it?"
"No. Only Victor can. And he's not going to." She grabs my shoulders. "Run. Please. While you still can."
But I'm already reaching down with my power, feeling through the earth, finding the bomb buried at the facility's core.
It's huge. Enough explosive to create a crater. Everyone inside will die. The children we just saved? If they're not far enough away, they'll die too.
Above us, Victor laughs. "Finally! True power! Watch as everything you love BURNS!"
He's insane. Completely, totally insane. He'd rather destroy everything than let me escape.
"Elara, we have to go!" Kieran grabs my hand.
"I can stop it."
"What? How?"
"The bomb is underground. Surrounded by earth. By roots. By things that GROW." My whole body starts glowing so bright it hurts to look at. "I can contain the blast."
"That much explosive force will kill you!"
"Maybe." I squeeze his hand. "Or maybe I'm strong enough now."
"Elara, no—"
I kiss him. Quick and fierce. "Get everyone out. Please."
Then I shove him with a wave of vines, pushing him toward the exit.
"ELARA!" His scream echoes as the vines carry him away against his will.
I'm alone with Victor and Lydia and a bomb that's going to explode in ninety seconds.
"You're a fool," Victor sneers. "You can't stop this."
"Watch me."
I kneel, pressing both hands to the cracked floor, and reach DEEP.
Help me. Please. I need everything you have.
The response is immediate.
Every root system under Silvercrest answers my call. Trees that have grown for a hundred years send their strength. Gardens cultivated with love share their energy. Even the grass and weeds and tiny flowers in sidewalk cracks offer what little power they possess.
I feel them all. Thousands of living things, connecting through me, TRUSTING me.
With their combined power, I start building.
Roots weave together around the bomb, creating layers and layers of living wood. Each layer is grown in a second, compressed, strengthened. I'm making a cage—no, a COCOON—of organic matter so dense it could stop a missile.
Sixty seconds.
"It won't be enough!" Victor shouts. "You're going to fail and everyone will die because of YOU!"
Maybe he's right. But I have to try.
Forty seconds.
My parents' voices echo in my mind—every lesson they taught me in three short days. My mother's wisdom: "Share and grow." My father's strength: "Never stop fighting for what you love."
Twenty seconds.
Kieran's face flashes before my eyes. His smile. His patience. Thirteen years of silent love, finally spoken.
Come back to me, he'd said.
Always, I'd promised.
Ten seconds.
I pull everything I have, everything I AM, into one final surge of power. The cocoon around the bomb grows so thick, so compressed, so impossibly strong that it starts to glow.
Five seconds.
"I love you," I whisper to Kieran, even though he can't hear me. "I'm sorry."
Three seconds.
Lydia grabs my hand suddenly. "If you're staying, I'm staying. Maybe I can't be a real Garden-Speaker, but I can do this. Let me help. Please. Let me do ONE good thing."
I don't have time to argue. I take her hand.
Two seconds.
Victor realizes too late what's about to happen. He runs for the exit.
One second.
The bomb detonates.
The world becomes light and sound and impossible pressure. The explosion hits the cocoon—and HOLDS. Barely. The living wood cage cracks, splinters, SCREAMS as it absorbs blast force that should have destroyed a city block.
I scream too, pouring every drop of power into keeping that cocoon intact. Beside me, Lydia screams, her dark magic actually HELPING for once, reinforcing where my green light is failing.
The explosion goes on forever. Or maybe just three seconds. I can't tell. Everything is pain and power and desperate determination.
Then silence.
I open my eyes—surprised I'm alive to open them.
The cocoon held. Barely. It's smoking, cracked, falling apart, but it HELD. The bomb's force was completely contained.
"We did it," I breathe.
Lydia collapses beside me, gray skin fading back to normal. The dark magic is gone—burned away by our combined effort. She looks young again. Scared. Human.
"I helped," she whispers in wonder. "I actually helped something instead of destroying it."
But something's wrong.
Victor's gone. The chamber is empty except for us.
And through the cracks in the ceiling, I see smoke. Lots of smoke.
"No," I scramble to my feet. "No, no, NO—"
I climb through the ruins, Lydia behind me. We emerge into chaos.
The facility didn't explode—but Victor SET IT ON FIRE before he fled.
And my allies are trapped in a burning building.