Chapter 87

"Uhm, before we investigate the root cellar, can I ask a question?" Stiles said, raising his hand like would in class.

Peter snorted, his eyes still crimson. "Just one?"

"For now," Stiles allowed. "Derek said the tree was still there when that thing with Paige happened. So it has to have been cut down between that and the fire, which would make it around six or seven years, right?"

"Right," Peter said slowly. "It was still there when I found Derek that night."

Stiles swallowed against his suddenly dry throat. "Well, this is awkward, then."

"Why?" Isaac asked suspiciously.

"Because …" Stiles licked his equally dry lips and blinked nervously. "Because the mountain ash tells me that this tree has been felled at least a decade ago, if not longer. It couldn't give me a clear answer, only that it's been way longer than six or seven years."

Peter reared back as if hit by a sledgehammer. "No. I would have noticed. I would have seen it!"

"Yeah, that's the crux of the matter, isn't it?" Stiles' fingers clenched on the surface of the stump. "You didn't notice and didn't see, and apparently no one else did, either."

"Which can only mean that someone used magic to deceive you," Danny murmured into the shocked silence.

"It can't have been easy to deceive a whole pack of werewolves," Boyd added. "There's so much info we're getting through our new senses, it's insane. There's no way none of the Hales wouldn't have noticed this during a patrol run."

"No way at all, Boyd. There was only one magic user in our territory at that time," Peter snarled. His fingernails turned into claws and his full fangs dropped in his fury. "Deaton."

A growl escaped from Derek's throat, full and loud and vicious.

"He had to have help," Stiles said, clumsily standing up and stretching out his smarting limbs. "Someone must've helped him cut down the … nemeton was it, right? Right, because I don't see how Deaton could've done it himself. There's still a little magic left in the stump; I can't even imagine how strong the tree must've been at full health."

This didn't calm Peter down at all. Worse, the obvious implication of inside help due to the Hales having been a strong and cohesive pack that ill-meaning outsiders avoided like the plague made all the other werewolves growl as well. Even Lydia looked pissed and she rarely took sides in conflicts that had little to do with her.

"What can we do for him?" Danny asked once everyone had gotten it out of their system for now. "He's mostly dead but that offshoot there …"

Peter turned and eyed the tiny growth intently. "The healing cards revived him a little, apparently."

"We have more," Erica piped up. "In case you think it's a good idea to use them."

"It's our duty to our Forest Guardian to protect him in a time of need," Peter said through his fangs. He took a few deep breaths and forced back the partial transformation. "For centuries he has done everything in his powers to keep away intruding supernaturals and harmful humans and as a rule Forest Guardians ask for very little in return. That's why it is a crime against magic itself to harm one, let alone kill one."

"If Deaton's involved … Does that mean he's a darach, too?" Isaac asked, bringing everyone up short. "Don't look at me like that! Peter just told us that hurting a Forest Guardian is a supernatural felony; how can that not make Deaton a dark druid? And more, we don't even know why it was cut down in the first place. There might be more shitty stuff going on than we can guess."

"He's right," Boyd agreed slowly.

"What, so now we have two darachs in town?" Erica asked with a grimace.

Jackson, who hadn't said anything so far, crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at them. "I'm no tree hugger but if this is such a big deal, why aren't you doing something about it?"

"Like what?" Peter asked, his expression intent and his voice just a hair too controlled.

Jackson defiantly raised his chin. "I know that my dad's not a fan of killing people but surely this Deaton person deserves it after all the crap he brought down on Beacon Hills."

"Well, we don't have definite proof just yet," Peter replied, "but your opinion is duly noted. I appreciate your pragmatic approach."

Paling a little, Jackson muttered, "Not that I want to off him. I was maybe six at the time he chopped that thing down. But ..."

He trailed off and Stiles sighed. "But he deserves it." At Erica's scared look, Stiles pressed his lips together and steeled his resolve. "Forget human morals, Catwoman. This tree kept the peace in town for ages and look what happened right after some dipshit decided to kill him. Peace summit between hunters and werewolves goes wrong, leading to dozens of dead people, a teenager gets hurt and dies, a hunter burns down most of the local pack …"

"But after that, there were six years where nothing happened," Danny countered. "I'm not saying that you aren't right but how are you gonna explain that?"

"Just because nothing overt happened doesn't mean the rot hasn't spread," Peter told them. "I haven't gotten around to checking the news of the last seven years but I'll bet that there are several inexplicable deaths or disappearances. That's what usually happens in a compromised territory."

"We did have a few of those, now that you're mentioning it," Erica admitted in a small voice. "Remember Susan Meyers?"

"Vanished during our sixth-grade excursion to Weed," Danny answered almost immediately. "I remember so well because it was shortly before Stiles' mom died and he had a hard time on that trip. Finstock was running after him like a headless chicken the whole time."

"It was bad," Stiles sighed. "I wanted to be with her but it was a great day, too. That mountain view, right? So amazing."

"I still got the pictures and postcards," Lydia confessed. "Did Susan really get lost there, in Weed? I don't remember and now I feel awful."

"Not exactly. We had a bathroom break on the way home and she never made it back to the bus." Danny shrugged sheepishly when everyone stared at him. "I was in my Three Investigators phase back then so the mystery never quite lost its shine. It's also one of the reasons I went into computer sciences; I wanted to snoop around and find out what the police were doing to find her."

"Is that how you …" Stiles asked with raised eyebrows.

Danny grimaced uncomfortably. "Yeah, I was too inexperienced and got caught trying to hack the FBI for answers. They let me off with a warning, more or less, but I've got a sealed criminal file. You can also bet that I'm on a watchlist but so far they couldn't pin anything on me."

"Dude, your reasons were just," Stiles proclaimed. He then quirked a grin. "How about I try to ward your computers for some extra protection?"

"Can't hurt," Danny replied gratefully. His shoulders slumped. "It's harsh to have an idea what happened to her, now."

"And I'm sorry for tainting your childhood memories," Peter rumbled.

"There's nothing for it. Susan was never found so she's likely dead," Boyd said bluntly.

"Likely, yes," Peter agreed. "As I said, I'll make a list of unexplained deaths and disappearances. It shouldn't be hard to attribute some of them to supernatural causes, especially if Mr Mahealani can obtain the police reports. Right now, however, we've got our Forest Guardian to comfort. Consider it your very first lesson in arcane pack duties."

Stiles listened in fascination and sort of mesmerized by Peter's slow prowl around the tree stump as the man began an in-depth explanation on how the forest guardians had come to be and why they chose to bond with werewolves specifically.

"It's in the way the moon is influencing a werewolf's magic," Peter said as everyone placed their hands on the stump and caressed the smooth wood. "While we are forever fluctuating and changing due to the moon's phases, the Forest Guardian draws his strength from the ley lines in the earth. Left alone, its territory would be stagnant and unchanging. It's the bond between us that allows the guardian to find a purpose for its existence. Our short, passionate lives give its eternal power and steadiness meaning and as a by-product, it also gives many lesser-willed supernaturals a safe place to live. The difference in our cultures and personalities are the reason for the sometimes vast differences in how a territory feels to a visitor."

"Are there places with a guardian out there that haven't been claimed?" Erica asked, just as enthralled as Stiles.

"I want to say no due to the vast overpopulation of the planet but who am I to talk in absolutes?" Peter replied. He tilted his head and looked at the tiny sprout in the middle of the stump. "Who knows if there aren't some spaces left, untouched by humans and supernaturals, that still carry the energies of times long past. I almost hope there are for we obviously haven't done our duty to magic and the earth. It would be a relief to have a few spaces unsullied by our ineptness."

"So what is our duty to our Forest Guardian if it isn't fertilizing and pruning?" Erica pressed. After seeking permission with a look from her alpha, she took off her shoes and carefully stepped onto the tree stump. "How can we make sure this little fella won't get hurt again?"

Stiles watched as she settled down by the offshoot and very gently touched it with a finger. "Yes, how?"

Peter nodded. "First of all we need to feed it, but before we continue I'd like to investigate the whole of it. That means going down into the root cellar, maybe we can find clues for the Guardian's murder there."

"Be careful," Derek said roughly. "Stiles said that he felt something dark as soon as he stepped onto the clearing. What if it's … her? She'd have every right to be angry."

At once, Peter's expression softened. "I don't believe it is her, she loved you too much. But we'll take the utmost care while down there anyway."

Stiles grabbed Derek's clammy hand and held it firmly. "You don't have to come," he promised. "You can stay here and keep watch."

Derek nodded shortly, dumbly, his eyes on Stiles' chest instead of his face.

"Erica, Boyd, please stay with Derek," Peter requested. "Lydia, Danny, since we don't know what might be going on, I ask that you hang back as well."

"Can we come when it's safe?" Lydia asked, a slight challenge in her tone.

"If it's safe," Peter agreed in the same tone. "Isaac, with me. The door is over there."

Together, the two werewolves freed the hidden two-winged door from several years' worth of dirt and rotted plant matter and managed to open the padlock with minimal cursing.

"I propose greasing the hinges," Isaac huffed as Peter threw the broken lock and the metal rod used to keep the wings closed aside, his eyes glowing amber from the effort.

"We can do that," Peter told him, "although it's not just the hinges trying to keep us out."

"More magic?" Stiles asked, already stepping close and putting out his feelers. When the black swirls in front of his eyes became stronger while something simultaneously pressed him back, he exhaled and nodded. "Oh yes, more magic. Two different kinds." In his mind, Lou echoed his opinion. On his arms, his mountain ash was swirling round and round in agitation.

"Two?" Lydia demanded from a dozen paces away.

Stiles paused to take in more information. "Yeah, pretty sure. There's this evil thing, and then there's also something not evil. The not-evil magic is still trying to send us packing so …" He shrugged. "Ideas? One could be Deaton's, I suppose, though I'm not counting on it. Not if he had something to do with cutting the nemeton in the first place."

"Me neither," Peter growled. He pushed Isaac and Stiles back from the open door. "Whatever's down there, it can't be good. At least it's not a ghost, of that I'm sure."

"How come?" Isaac growled.

"I met one once and it felt entirely different. Back away now, I don't want it to influence us," Peter warned.

From the other side of the tree stump, Derek was exhaling in painful relief.

"I feel like an idiot for just slapping healing cards on the stump," Stiles muttered, rubbing his goose-pebbled arms. "I probably fed whatever evil thing is down there."

"You did not," Peter said in a low voice. With a decisive move, he flipped the two wings of the door shut again, shoved the metal rod through the bails and wrenched it into a vague pretzel shape.

Stiles couldn't even help himself; he was impressed and thoroughly turned on by Peter's casual display of strength.

"Stiles," Isaac groaned. "Not now, please?"

Erica laughed and winked at Stiles, who flushed a little at the reprimand.

Peter, of course, preened a little.

"How can you be so sure?" Lydia asked him suspiciously. "You weren't five minutes ago."

"I had a good hunch but I had to make sure for the pack's sake," Peter replied, growing serious again. "The offshoot appeared after Stiles used his healing cards and since no evil can influence a nemeton in this fashion, I was reasonably certain that the healing cards only influenced the Guardian and not the evil underneath. In fact, feeding the Forest Guardian further might well help to push this evil's influence back in the longer term."

"Sounds reasonable," Boyd said after a moment's consideration.

"I agree," Danny offered. "I mean, that little sprout does look healthy enough."

Erica pulled out a wad of healing cards from her bra and waggled her eyebrows impishly. "Does that mean we can use those now? I bet the little guy is hungry."

Rolling his eyes, Peter said, "Yes, you can use them now. But go slowly, not everyone at once."

"Yeah, don't do that," Stiles agreed hastily. "I think I ruptured my eardrums a little when the ash did it earlier. Thank god Lou's gotten pretty good at healing the small stuff."

Everyone crowded around the stump like they were at a poker table and pulled out what healing cards they'd brought. If the situation weren't so dire Stiles would've laughed about the image, especially since there were a lot of healing cards on the makeshift table.

"Why did you bring ten red cards?" Stiles asked Isaac, flummoxed.

The other boy shrugged. "I'm not gonna take any chances with our rotten luck. As soon as I'm back home, I'll refill."

Jackson spread out his thirty cards smugly. "Dito."

"Dito." Lydia smirked at Stiles. "Don't look so scandalized, you know it's necessary."

Danny and Boyd both grinned as well and then they began.

Peter went first, opening with a turquoise healing card. Isaac to his left followed, and then Derek, then Erica and Boyd, Jackson, Lydia, and Danny. Stiles, on Peter's right side, went last and couldn't hide his gasp when a third leaf appeared on the small shoot once the golden dust had settled.

"It really works," Erica whispered reverently. "Oh my god."

"Again," Peter ordered and they went again.

They repeated this until their weak healing cards were all gone. By that time, the shoot had grown to a little stalk with seven finger-long leaves on it. Those leaves were visibly straining up and out, eager to collect as much magic as possible.

It was endearing and heartbreakingly sad at the same time.

"Next level now," Stiles said roughly and ripped up a gold card, slapping it down decisively.

Again, his pack, his family, followed, and once again the magic was sucked up by the needy nemeton.

Once they had advanced to the red healing cards, Isaac stated, "This is ridiculous. Next time, we'll pack the healing dice. Using up our cards for this isn't in any way sustainable."

"Great idea," Stiles answered, "though not as fun."

"I'd say let's do it today but it's getting late and I only carry the weak dice," Isaac went on.

"Maybe we should let the Guardian have a break before we attempt it," Peter commented and ripped up the next card. "Let's say a week or two."

"Let's make it two," Derek said and tilted his chin towards the young tree in the middle of the stump. "His leaves are beginning to look a little anaemic."

"Oh, you're right." Lydia placed her remaining four cards down and pursed her lips. "Do you think he'll get enough nutrition?"

"What does the ash say, Stiles?" Danny asked.

Surprised, Stiles glanced at the intricate and unmoving mountain ash designs on his forearms. "Nothing, apparently. Seems like we did enough, for now."

"Is the place safe enough to just leave it?" Derek asked quietly. "If the person who cut it down is still in town …"

"I don't have any ward stones with me, unfortunately," Stiles said, "but if you can find me a couple dozen rocks I can at least improvise."

"Now I'm glad that you practically ordered us to never leave the house without Sharpies," Lydia admitted and produced one from her little purse.

"Okay then, Lydia and I are on rune painting duty and the rest of you go find rocks or pebbles," Stiles directed.

"On it, Batman," Erica said cheerfully and bounced away, Boyd in her wake.

Jackson heaved an aggrieved sigh but went with Danny without further comment. Smirking, Isaac towed Derek away in the other direction, leaving only Peter with Stiles and Lydia.

"Your first larger warding project," Peter stated a little stiffly.

Lydia raised her eyebrows slightly. "Nothing like an unexpected emergency, is there?"

"Dudes, really?" Stiles complained. "I thought we were over it."

"We are over it," Peter replied haughtily. "Practicing magic together, however, is intimate. Forgive me if I find that a little distasteful."

Flushing, Stiles shut his mouth. "You do know I'm over it, too, don't you?"

"Oh please," Lydia scoffed, "there's no need for this kind of angst. We're all over it." She stared meaningfully at Stiles and Peter. "In fact, I'd consider it a personal favour if we could all simply forget my … lapse in judgement two months ago."

"Can we?" Stiles jumped to ask. "Please, Peter?"

Peter's red eyes narrowed on Lydia. "I wouldn't hold it against you if you were still feeling unbalanced; it's hardly your fault I woke your other side and Stiles is uncommonly attractive magically. That doesn't mean I have to like it."

"I feel balanced enough," Lydia replied snottily. "Your better half is safe from me … even if he is cleaning up rather nicely recently."

Stiles felt a little weird when Lydia and Peter glared at each other and only stopped when Erica and Boyd returned with a rucksack full of fist-sized rocks.

"What did we miss?" Erica asked innocently like the little shit she was and Stiles took that as his cue to demonstrate the bind rune to Lydia to get out of her heckling.

A dozen rocks in, Stiles decided that it would be a splendid back bonding exercise to try out the others' ability to paint runes on his behalf. There were enough Sharpies around for everyone to have a go and in no time at all they had fifty improvised ward stones ready. The biggest plus, however, was Peter's fiery satisfaction at not having to let Stiles share magic with only Lydia.

"I'll run along the clearing's perimeter to get the circumference," Derek announced, raising his phone. "Be back in a minute."

He was indeed back in a minute, a little more than half a mile clocked in on his running app. "If we put down one ward stone every 68 feet we should be good."

"Alright, get going," Peter ordered, clapping his hands. "With some luck, we might get back soon enough for us to freshen up and claim our table at Dong Ji's."

"Wait, what?" Stiles exclaimed. "We have a table at Dong Ji's?"

Peter showed sharp teeth as he smiled. "Surprise. It's your send-off to the new school year and all your parents will be coming." At Lydia's unimpressed scowl, Peter amended, "Well, not all your parents. We did take the liberty of excluding the nuisance factors."

"Does that mean my parents will also be there?" Danny asked in confusion. "Truly?"

"Should I not have invited them?" Peter questioned.

"Uhm." Danny squirmed under the man's inquiring stare. "I didn't think you were willing to do that yet."

"You put in a lot of effort on our behalf these last weeks," Peter replied. "And you did allude to at least a passing prior acquaintance with the supernatural. I'm as ready as I'll ever be to take this further."

"What?" Jackson demanded.

"Oh boy," Danny sighed and face-palmed.

"Your parents accepted the invitation," Peter continued idly, ignoring his pack's comically shocked reaction. "And in light of our recent issues, I think it is only fair to let them know what their cub has been getting up to."

"Their fingerling," Danny corrected with a wry smile. At his friends' astounded expressions, he shook his head. "They'll explain."

"Oh yes, they will," Lydia agreed incredulously, voicing exactly what everyone else was thinking.

"Yep, definitely never a quiet moment around here," Stiles muttered.

End of chapter 87