Chapter 24: The Connection

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Stiles was at Derek's a few days later. He was sitting on the ground out the back of the house in a warm patch of sunlight.

Derek had gone for a run, and Stiles had wanted to join him, but he hadn't been focussing on his protector duties like he should. If he had been, perhaps he could have had the Tree back to full health and he wouldn't have to worry Brine would get his hands on the tainted magic.

To that end, Stiles had taken off his shirts to energize by the sunlight while he tried to work out the purpose of the different pieces of Nemeton wood he had in front of himself. "Could have made this easier and just given me a list," he grumbled.

He had several different groupings occurring on the ground. One included the two spheres and the coin. Next came several pieces from Deaton that were containers of different shapes and sizes. They were for protecting or binding things, much like the Triskelion box with the Nogitsune fly in it.

There were the two pieces of the broken bowl in the next grouping and a polished carved wand-shaped stick. The stick had been found in the camp by Liam as well, who'd picked it up thinking the wood looked the same as the bowl and may be of some interest to Stiles. He'd been right. The stick had been used to create the Brine-double that had tricked the police. It was also what Stiles' own search spell had picked up on, sending Derek and Scott to the cell.

Stiles had told Liam he was definitely his favourite for finding it. Liam had basked in pride while Scott pouted. Stiles had just smirked at him and said, "You snooze, you loose, man. And Liam did good. Didn't you, boy?" He'd rubbed the top of Liam's hair and been swatted and growled at. Scott had hidden a smile when Stiles winked at him.

The second last grouping were two large rings that reminded Stiles of a magician's magic trick where they link and then come apart. He'd spent several minutes rubbing the rings together to satisfy that idea. Nothing had happened.

The last group were three flat plates of descending size that Stiles contemplated using as frisbees to satisfy his annoyance. He had no idea why he couldn't tell what these particular pieces did as he was bound to the Nemeton even more than he'd been before he died. The place in his mind that forever connected him to its magic and energy lines was a hundred times stronger than it had ever been. He didn't need to go searching to feel disturbances, or to even keep the illusions going. He need only touch on the connection and he could feel where the illusions needed shoring up or changing.

Over the days since he'd come back, the connection had settled and strengthened into an unshakable bond. It was like Stiles was living and breathing the Nemeton's life as well as his own at the same time. He hadn't mentioned it to anyone, not even Derek, because he was aware it made him more prone to giving up his 'human' life and no one needed that extra worry aside from him.

But being so connected, he should be able to take one look at the wood pieces and know what they'd been created to do. Yet for some reason the rings and plates eluded him. He rubbed his hands on his jeans and held them over the largest plate. "Come on," he said, closing his eyes and searching again. "Damn it." There just wasn't anything to find. There was nothing there at all, no remnant druid magic. Like they had never been imbued with purpose after being shaped.

Stiles paused. "You tricky bastard," he said, grudgingly admiring of Deaton. "Always with the frigging tests." He picked the plate up and tapped his fingers on it. He couldn't feel the purpose of the objects because they had none. A druid, more than likely Deaton, had carved them but hadn't gone the distance and put anything more inside them. No druid magic, no intent. So when Stiles went looking for it all there was to find was Nemeton energy from being part of the Tree. And it was faint because there was nothing to keep it attached to the wood. The magic of the Tree wanted to let go and flow back to the energy lines in the earth.

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