Tree Of Smoke Book Review นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Then slowly—he raises a lit cigarette to his lips again, pulling in smoke like a damn movie villain. White, cloudy vapor floods my vision, choking me in the process. My eyes sting as I squint through the haze, waving my hands to clear the air. I cough. “Is this training over now? Because I’d love to get away from you and your fucking smoke.” “You don’t look like you want to leave,” he says airily, blowing his stupid smoke that's probably going to give him lung cancer—off in another direction. Just his voice and that damn smoke curling around us—it’s a storm cloud waiting to break.

Our place backed onto what was basically a private forest, my favorite place to think. The second the canopy of trees closed over me, some of the tightness in my chest eased. The scent of pine and damp earth was a hell of a lot better than the scent of my father’s disappointment. I stopped by a tree and fumbled in my jacket pocket for my emergency pack. I’m not a smoker, not really. But sometimes, when the world gets too damn loud and angry, you need a little toxic cloud of your own to hide in for a minute. I lit a cigarette, took a long, dragging puff, and tried to will the hate out of my system. Hate for Derek. Hate for Gerald. Hate for the whole messed-up situation.

The forest was quiet but alive, whispering under the fragile dawn. The air bit at my lungs as I crawled over charred roots, my body screaming, aching, yet alive. Every inch of me still smelled of smoke and ash, the pyre’s heat lingering beneath my skin like a secret pulse. The fire was still there—low, ancient, alive. I flexed my fingers, feeling the tremor in the air, the subtle curl of heat, the whisper I’d grown used to.

“Mother kept a diary, and she mentioned a Deagal quite often. I don’t know exactly what role he played, but I figured if anyone could figure it out, it would be you.” She handed me the small leatherbound book, a tree scorched into it. I lifted it to my nose, smelling the smoky, earthy smell. The paper smelled old and mildewed, the ink, rotten. “I don’t know. It smells old. I don’t know if I should even be handling this the way I am.” I flipped the book to look at the spine. “It has so much potential. I’ll look at it, but I’m not going to promise anything, and I really need my nap first.”

Or perhaps… It had been summoned. His consciousness drifted slowly through thick black smoke, each step echoing as if he were walking inside an empty world’s heartbeat. The earth beneath his feet felt wrong. It was warm, but not with life — it pulsed like a wounded creature struggling to stay conscious. Charred roots twisted beneath the surface like veins, stretching and wrapping around invisible bones of ancient land. Trees towered overhead, vast and skeletal. Their bark was black and cracked open, glowing faintly from within, as if something hot and living hid inside their hollow forms. No leaves. No birds. No air movement.

He tilted his face slightly forward, as if daring the answer he already feared. “Then who is she?” The flame flickered. The wind swept through the trees, rustling dry leaves and carrying the earthy scent of the forest. Suddenly, the fire collapsed, turning into a swirling, glowing smoke. The pulsing energy danced in the air, floating above the villagers’ heads. Time seemed to slow as the smoke spun, drifting as though searching for something.

Ember Frost’s POV The fire crackled loudly as it devoured the trees, sending waves of heat across the snowy ground. Thick smoke rolled into the sky while the sharp scent of burning wood drifted through the air. Most people would only smell smoke and ash. But to me, there was something else hidden in that air. Something sweeter. Something… tempting. Underneath the heavy smell of fire, another scent lingered, soft but impossible to ignore. It reminded me of warm honey and fresh meat at the same time, rich and full of energy. The kind of scent that made the power inside me stir with excitement.

Smoke curls like serpents through the roots. The Blue Woods—its beauty is a trap. It doesn’t burn. It explodes. The trees are rich with volatile oils that vaporize in heat—igniting with violent bursts instead of steady flame. The bark is dry as bone, leaving no damp to slow the blaze. And beneath, trapped gases churn under the roots, waiting for a spark. Together, they birth a monster— a chain of fire and air, of dry veins and burning breath. We can feel it—the ticking beneath us.

I should probably invest in a hazmat suit. Another fun fact about this tree is that burning the tree is just as harmful since the smoke it produces can lead to temporary blindness and severe respiratory problems. All of this is a fancy and scientific way of saying that I have a multitude of ways to utilise this plant for future assignments. I’m already concocting a plan where I could easily mix a concentrated dose of the sap into a target's body products or lace their food or milk with it and just let nature take its course. Utilising the smoke benefits would be more complex and time-consuming, but that’s not to say there will never be a time and place to use it, and I love having that optio

I closed my eyes and just absorbed the moment wanting to remember it. Suddenly the sounds of paws hitting the forest floor overwhelmed me. Then in a flash, the forest was ignited with flames. Everything glowed vibrant oranges and reds as heavy smoke smothered me from above. I threw myself to the ground, desperate for any trace of clean air. As I attempted to crawl out of the flowers, new sounds began to harmonize; screams, howls, and cries for help terrorized me.