Below the Earth

As we travel through the palace Liv's Power seems to be shielding us from notice, By Odin it is hard not to lash out the only things that are stopping me is the scent of the energy and the unwillingness to jepardise my Companions, Sylus seems to be able to keep us on the right track so we follow is blue winged blur. the palace all sharp angles is soon a blur as we run, finally bursting into the Court of the garden the Cobblestones a Gold Veined marble with plants not seen outside of a time-slip in millions of years the air is thick and Fragrant a single fountain in the center, simple amidst the ornate decor around it, as if it were to valuable to be made cheap by frivolous and Gaudy ornamentation.

I step forward, studying. Ringed around the fountain and stretched out in two aisles on either side of a small stream, oak, ash and apple trees intertwine with Hazel. Twisted and gnarled with untold years, their branches stretch in all directions, interlacing into a green tunnel. The deep green life pulsing through the trees, the purity of it, shines in every leaf and twig. The air is alive with the scent of water and life, the scent of the first day of Spring and all the growth of all the summers there ever were. This is the green heart of all the worlds, the true Trees fed by the River itself. In this place, I can feel the world breathing. I stare, then kneel in awe and honor. This is Life itself, in its purest form.
Reverently, I stand, and step forward. Slowly, I lay my hand upon the great Hazel beside me, a monarch of the forest. The feel is so warm, so welcoming, that I shiver with the feel of it. With the greatest reverence, I ask the tree for what we need. Like a grandmother fondly approving of a child's question, the Hazel tree acquiesces, and with the agreement comes knowledge of what has to happen for life to be returned. I raise a hand, and a hazel nut drops into my palm. At the next tree, an apple falls into my hand, red as the sunset and perfect as summer. An acorn falls into my hand. With measured steps, I approach Liam, and the others fall back.
"I hold Life." I say, and I can feel the trees speaking through me. "And the three things of Life; the strength of the bone, the health of the flesh, and the life of the spirit. Eat of Strength of the Oak. Eat of health of the Apple. Eat of life of the Hazel, oh man. And live. With our blessing."
Looking at me with an awe I've never seen, Liam takes the acorn from my hands. The change comes swift and clean; I can hear bones creak, and then he straightens. As the apple passes his lips, color returns to his cheeks in a rush, and by the time it is finished, the man in front of me looks alive in a hundred small ways; the luster of his hair, the color of his lips and cheeks, the shade and texture of his skin. Then he eats the hazel nut, and his eyes lose that blank, dead look, his deadpan expression becoming mobile, his eyes bright and gleaming. For a moment, the world swims as the trees leave me. There's a last gentle touch as they depart. I shake myself a little. Then I look Liam up and down with my own eyes. And I grin. "Welcome back, Liam." Then, before I can say another word, Kaija is hugging us both, laughing.

We pass quickly through the halls of the Secret King, slid sideways from the eyes of the crowd. In the tumult and panic left in the wake of my last little magic, I don't think they would have noticed anyway. By the time we're at the front gates, deep grey smoke is curling from the direction of the decadent King's throne room. The sounds of running feet and screaming reverberate through the room. I glance back at Ignacy, and then at Edgeworth. Both men are smiling, with worrying, self-satisfied expressions. "I thought you were out of combustibles?" I ask Ignacy. The heavy-boned face creases with an even wider smile.
"It ought to burn down." Sylus quips from his perch on his old friend's shoulder, "On general principals." A lot of us nod.
Soon we're beyond the kingdom beneath the earth, and with a swirl of Djhuety's coat, we're walking back into the Nightside. The streets are slick with rain, and the bright neon signs blaze in the colors of childhood candies that you always knew were bad for you. The streets are alive with barkers calling out club advertisements and laughter and noise and bustle, men and women seeking out their own privet heavens and hells and loving every minute of it. Music and laughter and noise blares from clubs in every direction. In the distance, Burundi drums hold rolling conversations. The traffic roars and hums on its never ending way. And overhead, the sky is alive with stars like gaudy gems, offset by the great, glowing silver moon, smiling down on it all. I grin widely. We're back.
Turning, I grab Liam by the arm. "In honor of your newly restored body, let's give it a test drive. I'm going to get you very, very, very drunk. In fact, let's all get very, very, very drunk. Come on, lads and lass! This is the Nightside, with more bars and clubs than we can count. Let's see how many we can hit in one night!" I laugh, glad to be alive in a wild and living city. Death may be close in the Nightside, but that makes the life burn all the brighter. I lope away down the street, laughing. "Come on! Let's party!"