Chapter 86

After that meeting, Stiles felt the nearly irresistible need to get out and move. Worse, he wanted to be alone, which wasn't going over well with his friends at all.

"We shouldn't split up so soon after Baccari got another power boost," Isaac argued. "She could try to take you; you can heal and you're a guardian, Stiles. You're a prime sacrifice!"

"I …" Stiles grimaced, Lou's disquiet echoing in his mind. "That's unfortunately true."

"Never unfortunate," Peter said evenly. Heedless of all the watching eyes, he took Stiles' hands and pressed a kiss to the knuckles. "But please allow us to worry for your safety."

"I'll go with him," Derek said. His hazel eyes easily caught and held Stiles', daring him to refuse. "We'll take food and I'll make sure that he rests." His gaze then settled on Peter. "He's vibrating out of his skin; let him go."

"I wouldn't dream of trying to forbid it," Peter replied. "A small concession would be appreciated, though. Leave your phones' GPS activated and don't mind us lurking. In an emergency, I'd like to be close enough to make a difference."

"Okay," Stiles said, stuffing his jittery hands in the pockets of his cargo shorts.

"Thanks, darling. If you can wait a few minutes, I'll pack you a bag."

Stiles gratefully nodded and smiled fleetingly at Peter even as his friends scowled. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

As Peter and Derek were busy in the kitchen, the others crowded Stiles.

"Why can't we come with you?" Erica asked plaintively. "It feels wrong."

Stiles took a deep breath. "I wanna have my freak-out in private, Catwoman. It's nothing you can help with, honest."

"As if I want to see your blubbering anyway," Jackson stated, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "I've got training later, I don't have time to babysit you."

Derek raised his eyebrows at them. "Jackson's not wrong. Behaving like little kids who follow their mom to the bathroom isn't charming, so cut it out."

"Yeah, before mommy needs vodka," Jackson added, smirking at Lydia's unamused glare.

Erica gave up her protest but she held on to her unhappy face admirably until Stiles and Derek left the house.

"Where to?" Derek asked as he started the Jeep.

"For now just into the preserve," Stiles murmured, absently stroking over his arm where the mountain ash was teeming restlessly. "We could start at your house if that's okay."

Derek glanced briefly at him. "The house is fine. Whatever you need."

They were silent during the ride and didn't talk much as they hiked through the woods towards the old Hale house, either. Stiles needed all of his attention to navigate the uneven forest, even with Lou and the mountain ash's help.

It was the middle of the afternoon when they finally reached the house. It was quiet but not silent, the wildlife unobtrusively and comfortingly there in the background.

"Hey, the pest wards are actually doing their thing," Stiles noted as they sat on the porch steps and drank from water bottles. "I haven't seen a mosquito since I placed the wards but there are lots of butterflies and bees."

"Took you long enough to notice," Derek replied. "It's good that you didn't block the useful insects. I've thought about beekeeping; the preserve can easily support three or four hives."

Stiles hummed in agreement. "Sounds good. If you're not gonna eat the honey all by yourself you could set up a booth at the farmer's market and sell it." He smirked. "The ladies would probably fight over it."

Derek actually considered this before shrugging and saying, "Could be fun. I might be able to harvest enough fruit and vegetables in the next year to make it worthwhile. Peter's such a health freak, why not build on that."

"Covering as many bases as possible?" Stiles asked, intrigued. "I'd be your first customer, dude. But if you go into agriculture you'll definitely need help and we won't be able to give it. Everyone's gonna be off to college."

"It's just an idea for now," Derek said with an unconcerned shrug. "I'll talk to Peter about it sometime, find out whether it's even viable with all the other things the pack has going on."

Stiles bumped his shoulder against Derek's. "Meh, if you want to do this we'll find a way to make it happen. It's not like this town isn't lousy with perpetually broke high school students. You wouldn't have any trouble at all finding help for harvesting and stuff and Isaac would probably design your branding before you can even get around to asking."

Derek smiled slightly. "Probably." He cleared his throat. "I, uh, wondered about the runes you put in our cars."

"What about them? Are they failing?" Stiles asked.

"No, but that's the point." Derek paused, his expression an interesting mix of awed and wary. "They've reduced the need for fuel dramatically. The last time I went to the gas station was in June, and now it's already August."

"And you're only telling me this now?" Stiles demanded, incredulous. "Dude!"

"I forgot," Derek defended himself, his eyes glowing blue and the hair on his forearm standing up. "Because whenever I looked the needle was on full and that was it."

"Are you spooked?" Stiles asked, suddenly insecure. "You looked like it spooks the fuck out of you. Should I remove the runes from your car?"

Derek shook his head, only to nod helplessly. "It's not that I'm afraid. It's more like … like there are so many possibilities. Not just for cars or gas or security but for everything."

"Everything?" Stiles echoed.

"Yes, everything." Derek turned a little and stared at Stiles. "You put our cars in stasis, more or less. They don't need much gas now, if any, they probably won't wear out, and nothing short of a cannonball will probably even be able to scratch them up. Now think about where else you might apply this."

Stiles' mouth dropped open. "I feel like an idiot. I could preserve food."

"And whatever else needs preserving," Derek agreed. "Medicinal plants, Isaac's liquid crafting supplies, and Peter's new solar panels. But also people."

"People?" Stiles repeated a little dumbly.

Derek rubbed his hands slowly; it was the only tell that gave away his excitement. "Just imagine what it would mean for badly hurt people that are bleeding out with no medical help in sight. If you just stopped them until help arrived, or we were able to heal them ourselves with your cards and dice … it would change literally everything. Again."

Now Stiles' eyes grew wide. "You really think so?"

"Yes, I really do. At least for our pack, this could be invaluable." Derek's expressive eyes nearly bored into Stiles'. "We're only at the beginning but it feels good. I can't lose them."

"And you won't. Not on my watch, Sourwolf. We'd have to experiment, though," Stiles replied, feeling a little hysterical. "But food first before we advance to test bunnies and whatever monster of the week decides to have a swing at us."

"Thanks," Derek murmured. "Trials for preserving food won't be a problem, at least. We can figure it out at home."

"And if it works do you want to go into farming?" Stiles asked to make sure that this wasn't some feverish fantasy on both their parts.

"Things have always grown well on our land and I loved helping my mother tending to it. My family always had enough to feed us and if I used more land for a food forest, I could produce and store the surplus for us and future customers for a good while, if not indefinitely," Derek affirmed. "In New York, there wasn't much room to explore this. Here?" He looked around in quiet contentment. "Here it's honestly all I want. It's peaceful."

Stiles shrugged. "Okay."

Derek's gaze flicked back to Stiles. "Okay? Just like that?"

"It's not my thing, but dude, you're my best friend and beta, not my minion or whatever," Stiles said. "Whatever floats your boat is good for me. I'm just not so sure that you'll have a lot of surpluses to begin with. People in Beacon Hills do like to buy regionally and organically when they can. It's one of their better qualities."

Derek shrugged. "I'd hold things back for us. It only takes a forest fire to bring us under siege; it wouldn't harm Beacon Hills now, thanks to your wards, but we might still get cut off from supplies."

"Alright, that I can get behind. I didn't know that you were a secret prepper, though," Stiles quipped, still a little thrown by this whole conversation.

"I failed my pack once," Derek murmured. "It won't happen again. Not on my watch."

Stiles refrained from reminding Derek again that it wasn't his fault that a murderous hunter had targeted his family. Instead, he said, "How about you map out how much of the forest you'll want to convert to a food forest and I'll adjust your wards ASAP."

"Alright. Do you want to help me build beehives?" Derek asked. "It's not hard and they'll likely attract swarming hives all by themselves."

"Not without sufficient flowering plants around, they won't," Stiles countered. "You need to make room for wildflowers and berry bushes and whatnot. The trees around here are too high, it'd be hard for bees to collect nectar and you do want to make this place attractive to them."

Derek snorted. "Suddenly you're an expert?"

"I'll have you know that we covered bees in biology and econ," Stiles shot back. "I do know how important pollinators are for farmers. Thank Magic we won't need pesticides."

"My family has never used pesticides and never will," Derek said, sounding a little offended. "Permaculture is the way to go. But your wards will definitely help."

"Well, you've got your own money but it might be good to have Peter take a look at your plans. He might have some input you haven't considered yet." Stiles stood and stretched. "I think I'm ready for my hike now. Would it be okay to get a headstart?"

Derek sighed as he also stood. "As long as you stay inside the wards. Be careful anyway, okay?"

"I promise." Stiles reached out for Derek's arm, grateful and pleased when the werewolf immediately met him halfway. "Here, take some of my mountain ash. It's not a lot but if something comes up just tell it what to do. It'll fight or come find me, whatever you need."

Silently, Derek watched the bit of mountain ash slither from Stiles' skin to his own and vanish underneath his T-shirt.

"Where did it go?" Stiles asked curiously. "It seemed like it already knew where it wanted to settle."

"My …" Derek cleared his throat. "My tattoo. It's settling down there. It tickles a little."

Stiles patted Derek's shoulder. "The tickling won't last." He shouldered his backpack where he'd stashed more water and a snack. "Alright, give me thirty before you come after me."

With another sigh, Derek drew him into a tight hug and pressed his nose against Stiles' throat. "Be safe. Don't do unspeakable feats of magic without me to back you up."

"Hah, no promises," Stiles answered, burrowing his face in Derek's neck in turn. "But I'll try."

They separated and Stiles left the clearing with determined steps. While spending some time with Derek alone had calmed him a little, the agitation caused by the darach was by no means gone.

Music was out of the question in his current state of mind but Stiles didn't mind the natural sounds all around him. As he crashed through the underwoods, he, helped along by Lou, breathed in the clean, warm air and smelled the myriad of scents. There were flowers and old pollen and animals and tree bark in various stages of growth and decay … and suddenly there was more.

Lou's perception of magic had filtered into Stiles' own very early on; it was the baseline he'd begun to use to detect fluctuations in the magical field around Beacon Hills. It wasn't a smell, per se, though it wasn't a real scent either.

Tastes stronger here, Lou said, straining in the direction from where the magic was coming. Tastes different from yours, too.

"It sure does," Stiles muttered and followed where Lou was leading him. His nostrils blew as he sucked in as much air as possible. That zing of magic rushed past his olfactory nerve and billowed onto his tongue, where it lingered stickily. "It's not very tasty, though."

It's hurt, Lou provided. Whatever's there is dying.

"I hope it's not a unicorn," Stiles grunted as he pushed the branches of a young acorn out of the way. "I'd never live it down."

Not a unicorn. Look.

The branches gave way and revealed a large, somewhat dried out clearing with only a few taller trees dotting the area. In the middle, a huge flat tree stump dominated the scene.

"Yep, not a unicorn," Stiles agreed in a suddenly raspy voice, unconsciously taking a small step back. At the edge of his vision, dark streaks began to form and gently move, edging ever so slowly towards his pupils. "But I don't think that this is any better."

The tree stump didn't do anything except emanate that vaguely evil-seeming magical mist and so Stiles and Lou decided to come a little closer and investigate after Stiles had warded himself with a hastily scribbled bind rune on both his arms.

"It was cut down some years ago," Stiles observed, running a hand over the stump's surprisingly smooth surface. "Those roots are amazing. That thing must've been thirty feet tall, maybe more."

From his arm, the mountain ash flowed down and began to examine the stump in great detail. Impressions of the ash's findings almost immediately began to filter into Stiles' mind and he gasped.

"No way," Stiles breathed. His eyes grew wide at the ash's insistent prodding and his mouth dropped open.

There can be no doubt. This is a Forest Guardian, our greatest alley in the quest for balance and protection, Lou rumbled mournfully. Someone cut him down. Someone killed him.

"What can we do?" Stiles whispered, sinking to his knees and placing both hands firmly onto the stump. "Can we save him somehow? I … wait."

Hastily and amidst Lou's horrified whimpers, Stiles fumbled a red healing card from his wallet, ripped it up and slapped the halves on top of the smooth wood.

As it usually did, a shower of golden sprinkles burst up and sank into the surface.

There was an expectant silence; it went on and on and on, too long to keep up hope. And then, just when Stiles was ready to give up and rip up another card, there was a heave in the air and in Stiles' head and also right there in his lungs.

Stiles gasped as if he'd taken a breath of fresh air after months and months on end. He got dizzy and the blood rushed in his ears like a torrent.

He lives yet!, Lou howled, scrabbling frantically against the confines of Stiles' mind. Give him more!

The mountain ash on the tree stump rushed to relieve Stiles of all his healing cards; they were ripped up and slapped down all at once before Stiles could even fully process Lou's words.

"Uh-oh," Stiles croaked as he stared at the veritable explosion of golden sparkles before him.

A second later, there wasn't a heave but a tortured wail and all Stiles could do was clap his hands over his ears and cower down until it was over.

oOo

He came to with his face tucked against a broad chest, the feel of Derek cradling him safely even more than the werewolf's strong arms did.

"I'm so sorry," Stiles mumbled. "I didn't know what … the ash just went wild."

"I know," Derek murmured into Stiles' hair and rubbed the back of his neck soothingly. "I felt it almost as soon as it happened."

Stiles clumsily wiped his cheeks and eyes and sighed. "Never a quiet moment in this town, I swear." He looked at Derek and found him pale, almost spooked. "Oh no, I did something wrong. What is it? You're not looking good, Sourwolf."

"It's not your fault," Derek managed, eyes flicking from Stiles' face to the tree stump they were sitting against. "It's just … this is where I took Paige after Ennis …" He took a deep breath. "This is where she died."

"What?" Stiles squeaked, his stomach dropping to his knees. He turned around, nearly pulling a muscle in his neck. "Oh my god! Where? On top of it?"

As soon as he stared at the tree stump, the hazy, swirling magic returned to his vision and he groaned. What was worse, there was a tiny offshoot in the middle of the giant stump, its two tiny leaves a bright green.

"That … that wasn't there before I used the cards," Stiles stammered, pointing at the new growth. "Derek …"

"It's okay, Stiles," Derek rumbled, although he didn't look very convinced. "The others are on the way; we'll find out what happened. As to where Paige died … no, not on top. The tree was still there back then. There is … there is a hidden door to a root cellar on the other side. That's where I took her."

"A root cellar?" Stiles asked weakly.

"It was the safest place I could think of," Derek admitted. "I was terrified but I knew that this cellar was one of our go-to places if something went wrong."

"I'm so sorry," Stiles whispered. "She must've been terrified out of her mind."

Derek swallowed. "I remember hoping and praying that this safe place could somehow help her, maybe even cure her if she wouldn't turn. Of course, it didn't. She bled out in less than five minutes once the adrenaline dropped. Laura … Laura explained when we talked it all out in New York."

For a few minutes, they just sat and breathed through this terrible revelation. Unable to remain idle, Stiles painted the protection rune onto Derek's arms, just to make sure that no evil spirits could touch them.

"Do you think she's still here?" Derek asked warily, taking in the complicated rune. "Haunting this place?"

"I hope not," Stiles replied sincerely. "She deserves better. But if she is - because we all know that nothing seems to be impossible in this town - well, Peter surely knows someone that could help her move on. And if it isn't her, we'll still find out what's giving off these bad mojo vibes and deal with it. No way am I leaving this poor guardian tree dude like this."

Derek choked on an indrawn breath. "What?"

"Didn't I mention this? Lou called him a Forest Guardian," Stiles said apprehensively. "Said he was dying, which is why the mountain ash went crazy. You didn't know, what with it being one of the safest places for your family?"

His tanned face nearly white with shock and horror, Derek mutely shook his head.

Sighing, Stiles grasped his arm and squeezed. "Well, maybe it's not a huge surprise. I mean, you were fifteen, that's not exactly an age where anyone needs to know the magical details if they haven't got any magic themselves. Plus, I guess it's one secret Psycho Kate couldn't find out. She might've burned it down or something. Although ..."

"Although?" Derek rasped, chest heaving with his laboured breaths.

"Although someone managed to destroy him anyway," Stiles said, turning around again and staring at the tiny sprout in the middle of the stump's smooth surface. "Why was the tree cut off? Who did it if it wasn't Killer Kate?"

"Why do you think it wasn't her?" Derek gritted out.

"Because she was fond of fire," Stiles replied immediately. "She wouldn't have cared if your whole land burned down, at least that's my impression of her. This here was precise. They only felled this one tree, none of the others, so tree poaching is probably out as well."

"That makes sense … but who'd have an interest in cutting the guardian down if not the hunters?" Looking a little better again, Derek also turned around, though he took care not to touch the tree. "It doesn't make any sense; the pack needs the guardian. Even I know that it's supposed to be healthy and strong."

"As you said, we'll find out," Stiles promised.

Suddenly, Derek perked up. "The others are coming."

"Thank god," Stiles said in heartfelt relief. "Let's hope that Peter has some answers. I don't need any more unresolved creepy stuff on our plates."

A minute later, the werewolves of the pack broke through the hedges and undergrowth surrounding the clearing, taking in the scene with flaring nostrils and glowing eyes. To Stiles' surprise, Danny, Lydia, and even Jackson followed almost immediately after them.

"Well, well, well," Peter growled as he stalked up to the tree stump and glared at. "Seems like we found the reason for our abysmal luck these last months." He turned around to face the pack, his red eyes blazing and his teeth sharp. "Some absolute moron cut down the Nemeton, our territory's Forest Guardian. Mother Moon is my witness, I'll make whoever is responsible pay for this crime against magic and our pack!"

End of chapter 86