Another night of travelling brought Msaka up into the foothills north of where the jungle met the savanna. The vegetation grew more plentifully there than on the plains, but was nowhere near as thick or as lush as the jungle was. Still, it was nearer to what he was used to, and he didn't mind it at all.

On the other hand, it did have some tactical implications for him. The plants and trees would provide cover for his movements, and perhaps some protection from attacks from the ghost tree, if they were arranged properly near wherever such a tree might be found. It could, he realized, provide the same benefits for the spirit of the tree, so it might not prove that great an advantage overall.

Hopefully, it wouldn't be too complicated an affair. He had two bottles of the incendiary liquid from the apothecary, and the bottle he had acquired from the corpse amidst the vines appeared to contain the same substance. A single one should be enough to kill the tree spirit, but he would have the others ready, just in case.

He rested for the day beneath a small outcropping of rock, that provided shelter both from the sun and from prying eyes. The anticipation of finding one of the ghost trees made it difficult to sleep, but he eventually managed to drift off, and slept undisturbed by any of the native creatures of the region.

The sky was growing dark when he awoke, the sun apparently having set only a short time before. He ate while carefully arranging his gear so as to make it as easy to get at as possible, strapping the potions onto his belt so they would be immediately available when he needed them.

That done, he stood and began performing two ritual magics upon himself, ones that all of his people used. He was being overcautious in renewing them - the castings of them he already had performed would remain in effect unless dispelled in some manner - but he felt it was only wise to take no chances. The Ritual of Defense was the first of these, which created a number of protections against certain magical effects. It wouldn't stop any direct attacks by the ghost tree, but would protect against certain incidental effects and area affecting spells.

The second one he performed was the Ritual of Shielding, which screened the subject from divinations. There were actually several ways of using that one, only one of which was to shield the caster. It could also be used on another person, an object, or even a place, though protecting a large place with it, such as his tribe's village, required many castings, as there was a limit to how much one casting of the spell could cover.

Deciding that he was as prepared as he could be, at least until he knew he was close, he readied his pack and set off, keeping a watch out for anything of interest, and any unusual trees in particular. "If there is one here, I will find it." he vowed.

Several hours of searching turned up a number of small animals, which fled at Msaka's approach. He let them go, not particularly interested in hunting at present. He also spotted a giant ant, but avoiding it had been relatively easy. Unfortunately, nothing resembling a ghost tree, or even an unusual tree, presented itself in that time.

Msaka was rapidly growing frustrated. "Perhaps these ghost trees can disguise themselves by magic." he thought angrily, "It would explain why I can't find any of them!" While he knew it was certainly possible that that was the case, it was far more likely he simply hadn't searched extensively enough. Sighing, he forced his annoyance out of his mind, reminding himself that he needed to be alert. When he did finally encounter one of the trees, being distracted would be dangerous at best.

An hour and a half later, Msaka heard what sounded like very faint music nearby. He quickly realized what it was - singing, and at the same moment realized that his amulet was growing warm. He wheeled in the direction of the music, and saw ahead of him what could only be a ghost tree.

Gnarled, blackened, and rotten in appearance, the tree dominated the area around it, almost seeming to darken the air around it with its very presence. A feeling of power emanated from it, even without any sort of magical detection, but the power had a chilling taint of corruption in it, sending shivers up Msaka's spine.

Even as he saw the tree, something separated from it, seeming almost to step out of the wood. The figure vaguely resembled a human woman, but seemed to be formed of the same wood as the tree itself, and while it had an almost beautifully sculpted appearance, it radiated the same feeling of evil.

As the figure appeared, the singing which Msaka had been hearing suddenly grew in volume, an unearthly, entrancing melody that seemed to somehow form harmonies with itself. His amulet grew very warm, and he realized that without it, the song would certainly have addled his wits.

He snatched one of the bottles from his belt, and readied it to throw. The wooden figure gestured fluidly, casting a spell that Msaka didn't recognize. Just as he began flinging the bottle forward, the entire area lit up with a brilliance equalling the sun, blinding him completely.

He knew immediately that his throw had been spoiled, but the stabbing pain in his eyes from the light demanded his immediate attention. Drawing on his power, he cast his spell of Darkness, hoping that it would dispel the radiance enough for him to see again.

The light faded, countered by the pitch blackness of Msaka's spell. An explosion flared ahead and to his left, a secondary flare, which while bright, did not blind him as the magic had. Unfortunately, it was nowhere near the ghost tree, and the spirit was already casting another spell.

Msaka flung a ball of flames at the spirit, hoping to ruin whatever magic it was preparing, and was startled when his spell suddenly rebounded from the creature, straight back at him. "It has its own defenses, of course." he realized as his spell fizzled harmlessly against him, its effects warded by the magic of his Defense ritual.

The tree spirit had vanished. "Invisibility." Msaka thought, casting a spell of his own. The tree spirit faded back into view, closer than it had been, just as it released its own spell at him.

A sphere of force rocketed towards Msaka, and he was forced to dodge aside to avoid being struck. He quickly returned the favor by calling up a ring of flames to surround the spirit, which he hoped would at least prevent it from advancing any closer. By all appearances, it would be just as dangerous with its limbs as with its magic.

Another Force Bolt lanced out towards him, and this time he was unable to move out of the way in time. It struck him squarely in the chest, knocking him back. Immediately, he realized that it had also struck the amulet, cracking it, and its warmth was fading quickly.

He cursed and incanted the apothecary's spell, clapping his hands over his ears. The creature had just put him at a disadvantage, forcing him to cast it to counter the song, while it was free to work whatever attack it wanted.

The trickling feeling in his ears was followed immediately by complete deafness. The enchanting song abruptly cut off, at least for him. The warmth of the amulet vanished entirely a moment later, and Msaka realized just how close a call that had been.

That thought was quickly cut off as the front of his torso suddenly was shot through by intense pain. With a wave of its hand, the tree spirit had sent a murderous spray of splinters at him, and they had embedded themselves firmly in his flesh. He cried out, almost falling to his knees, but managed to stumble sideways instead, putting a normal tree between him and his opponent.

It wouldn't provide shelter for long, he realized, and he wouldn't be able to take that kind of attack much more either. Shaking both from shock and from the pounding of his heart, he wrenched another bottle from his belt. Praying that this throw wouldn't be ruined like the last, he stepped out and flung it for all he was worth at the spirit, which had remained in place, held at bay by the wall of flames surrounding it.

The tree let fly another shower of splinters, which whistled through the air and struck him, this time puncturing his legs. He groaned and fell down, the wounds serious enough to prevent him from staying upright.

The tree spirit nimbly ducked the bottle, which sailed over its head. Msaka's throw, however, had been harder than he had thought, and even as the creature readied another spell, one which would likely finish him off, the bottle continued onward - straight into the blackened tree.

A fireball blossomed around it with a dull roar, readily consuming the corrupted wood. It burned rapidly, and the effect on the tree spirit was immediate. Its spell fizzled as it convulsed and collapsed, thrashing within the ring of flames that surrounded it, almost seeming a parody of the tree it was linked to. Within the span of a minute, the tree was reduced to a pile of charred ashes, and the creature that had inhabited it crumbled to dust at the destruction of its host.

Msaka laboriously struggled into a sitting position in time to witness this passing, and he grinned balefully at the scene. "I win." he chuckled wearily, letting his head fall forward. He remained still for several moments, trying to steady his breathing and fight down the dizziness that his injuries were causing.

Finally recovering enough to move without falling down again, he sat up completely and began the long and painful process of pulling out all of the slivers of wood that were stuck into him. His eyes watered from the pain it caused, but he couldn't heal himself as long as they were there.

After what seemed like forever, the last one lay beside him, stained red with his blood. He worked his healing magic over his wounds, closing them one by one. A sudden, horrifying realization dawned on him as he completed the task - the tree spirit had crumbled to dust, and he needed its heart! Cursing loudly, he stood as quickly as he could manage, and walked as quickly as he could manage over to its remains. The wall of fire had died out while was healing himself, and he reached it easily.

There, in the middle of the pile of dust that had been the tree spirit, lay an aged, withered human heart.