The golden chamber didn't have walls; it had membranes. They pulsed with a slow, deeprythm that vibrated in her very marrow. This wasn't the jagged, hungry energy of the Elder Wood she'd fought through. This was ancient. This was the source.
"Hello?" she called out. Her voice didn't echo; it was absorbed instantly by the soft, glowing sand.
In the center of the chamber stood the Root. It wasn't a gnarled piece of wood, but a pillar of pure, translucent amber. Trapped inside the amber was a heartbeat—not a heart, but the idea of one—a flicker of white light that expanded and contracted like dying star.
But the Root wasn't alone.
Coiled around the amber pillar was a serpent made of the same silver liquid from the river. It didn't hissed; it sang. The melody was beautiful terrifying, a song of every life the Wood had ever taken to keep its own heart beating.
"The yesterday girl sent you," the serpent sang, its silver scales scraping against the amber with a sound like sharping knives."She thinks the Heart can be restarted. She thinks the pulse can be shared."
She gripped her bracelet. The lilac glow was dimming here, suppressed by the overwhelming gold and silver. "She said the center was hollow. She said I had to find the Root.
" The center is hollow,"the serpent replied, uncoiling itself to reveal a small, empty cavity at the very base of the amber pillar. It was exactly the shape of her bracelet." It is hollow because it is waiting for its final piece. The light you carry isn't a gift, little spark. It's a key. And once the key is turned, the door to the Elder Wood closes forever—from the inside."
The realisation hot her like a physical blow. To save the world outside from the Wood's hunger, she would have to lock herself within its heart.