Shadow Wings: The Darkest Drae: Book two Read online

  I’d never expected the Queen of Phaetyn to be as evil as Irdelron. Was every sovereign in the entire realm like this? As far as I was concerned, they should be deposed, preferably followed by a public execution. Or Tyrrik could behead them. I’d even offer to help at this point because . . . really?

  I reached the tree, filled with righteous indignation, and charged the guard with the most decorations on his purple uniform. I glared at him. “Where is Kamoi?”

  “Prince Kamoi is presently detained elsewhere.”

  “You don’t say,” I observed, rolling my eyes.

  The guard blinked at my heavy sarcasm, which only irritated me further.

  “It’s in Kamoi’s interest to speak with me, immediately.” My teeth extended, my Drae fangs emerging, and while it should’ve made me appear more frightening, their presence made my face contort while I spoke. “It’s a matter of security.”

  The guard’s lips trembled, and he raised his hand to cover his mouth.

  If he laughed, I would pull his shiny hair out.

  The Phaetyn regained control and, this time seeming genuine, said, “Prince Kamoi is on the southern side of the forest with the rest of our army, trying to quell unrest. He really is busy.”

  I deflated, feeling my teeth recede. “Drak.”

  I had a few words to say to that freakin’ prince. Starting with the binding-thing and ending with how his mother was a grade-A pile of horse manure.

  “Please inform him I would like to see him when he’s back,” I muttered.

  “As you say.” The guard bowed.

  I dipped my head. At least that guy was nice enough. Maybe they should promote him for not being a pointy-eared jerk. “Thank you.”

  He looked startled by my gratitude, and a real smile lifted his lips.

  They should totally give him a medal or something. With a sigh, I walked away, unaccountably weary. I ignored the side-long looks from the violet-eyed Phaetyn as I passed. The Phaetyn seemed unsure of whether I was an intruder or not. These silver robes were like magic.

  Emboldened by my disguise, I followed the rush of water through the trees to my right, I adjusted my course and, a few minutes later, sank to my knees beside a bubbling brook. There were many Phaetyn around, some collecting water, some just talking, and others hurrying by to get other jobs done, maybe even to go join the fight happening somewhere in the forest. No one said anything to me, and I stared at the crystal water.

  I didn’t want to get involved in all this Phaetyn drama. I felt a debt because of my connection to the trees and Luna, but this wasn’t my battle. Yet several Phaetyn were trying to force my hand, each in their different ways; Kamoi with plans to pitch the fork and do the Maypole dance with me, and his mother . . . Well, I wasn’t sure what her game was yet, aside from trying to bar me from finding out anything else, and the Phaetyn today asking me to look at the tree’s memories.

  I wondered if Kamini knew her mother was a turd. No, she was way worse than that.

  My presence here with the scheming and calculated interest felt too similar to a game I’d been forced to play before. This place just didn’t have a torture room. Or, at least, not that I could see. Somehow, that fact wasn’t making my palms any less clammy.

  I cupped my hands in the water and brought the clear liquid to my mouth. My nose twitched as I recognized the same sweet smell of the water I’d collected outside the forest. I drained the fluid in my hands, and some of my tension eased. “It’s sweet, too.”

  I dipped my hands again and drank my fill.

  “It tastes sweet to you?” a male Phaetyn asked.

  I glanced up to see him kneeling next to me. “Yes,” I said, drying my hands on my silver garments. “I’ve never tasted water like this, well, except for the stuff just outside this forest.”

  The Phaetyn smiled and made a lifting gesture with his hand. A sphere of water lifted from the brook and hovered in the air. “There is life in water, as there is in the ground, the air, and in the animals,” the man said. He appeared middle-aged which probably meant he was hundreds of years old. “And Zivost is life itself. The water here is at its purest, and the rivers and streams that flow through this place carry life to those outside the forest. In times gone by, all waterways tasted like this. I’m greatly saddened to hear that is no longer true.”

  Oh, boy. If only he knew the whole of it.

  Someone scoffed behind me. I turned and saw a narrow-faced woman sneering at the man. “Do not speak to this atrocity, Fabir. She’s not one of us; she should not know our ways.”

  The man ignored her, speaking again to me. “Tell me, child, what are your Phaetyn powers?”

  I shifted, uncomfortably aware of the attention we were garnering. “Well, I can grow potatoes and stuff.”

  “Ah, a plant affinity.”

  I shrugged. “I guess. I made a flower once.”

  He paused, the creases around his eyes deepening. “What do you mean?”

  “I made a flower, a blue blossom that glowed.” My heart squeezed at the thought of it, of Tyr. But then, Tyr was in the rose house right now . . . wasn’t he? The essence of him.

  There were gasps.

  “I see,” the man said.

  I glanced at him in question and saw he was looking at the ground where a single Tyr-flower had bloomed.

  “That’s it,” I said. My chest filled as I leaned closer to the flower and stroked it gently with my finger. The luminescent flower bent toward me, even when I straightened.

  The man was blinking back tears. “Thank you, child. That is a beautiful thing to see.”

  “How dare you!” the narrow-faced woman seethed. “You enter our forest and try to usurp our rightful queen?”

  A younger Phaetyn, one of the ones I’d spoken to earlier, snapped at her. “Ertha, she has ancestral powers. She converses with the trees.”

  A hush rippled through the gathering crowd.

  I slowly got to my feet. Maybe I could slip away before things got too tense.

  “Dark does not belong with light,” another male Phaetyn shouted.

  “No,” the man beside me said, standing. “That’s exactly where it belongs. Where there is dark, light must always exist. Drae and Phaetyn have always balanced each other as is our responsibility.” He gazed out over the crowd, and then his attention landed back on me. “This young woman is that same balance, just as one.”

  “You’ve always been a fool,” Ertha shouted.

  “Look,” I said, raising my hands to stop the shouting. “I’m not here to take your queen’s job.” Though I think you’d be interested to know a few things about her. “I came here with Kamoi, thinking your people could help me understand my Phaetyn side. That’s it. Whatever trouble you’ve got going on here has nothing to do with me.”

  The young Phaetyn from earlier crossed his arms. “You saw something at the trees earlier.”

  I began striding through the crowd. I would not get involved, not yet. I wanted a clear path. I wanted an exit plan. I wanted to know those I loved would still be safe when this was over. I was not going to put anyone else in danger ever again.

  “What did you see?” he pressed.

  The tension in the air overwhelmed my frayed nerves, and the pressure to do something consumed me. Scales erupted up my arms, and my eyes blazed. I whirled on the young Phaetyn, and the watching crowd reared back.

  “You do not want to know the horrible things I saw.” My growl was menacing and filled the surrounding space. They didn’t know how this would end, but tensions would escalate, and people, Phaetyn, would get hurt. I took a deep breath, staring at the young man. He blinked but refused to look away. With a shake of my head, I broke the locked gaze, and then pushing through the last few rows, I strode back in the direction of the Pink House.

  “See,” the woman Ertha called. “An atrocity.”

  21

  The urge to shift was nearly overwhelming, and I rushed through the hallways of the queen’s quartz house, feet t
ripping in my haste to get to the privacy of our quarters. I all but fell into our room and slammed the door shut behind me, my heart jumping against my ribs, trying to escape.

  Dyter jumped.

  “Sorry,” I said through my Drae teeth, dropping my head into my hands.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  I sighed and paced the room, my blue scales climbing up my neck. The breathing wasn’t working. I paced a moment longer, but when my talons began to push from between my fingers, I sat down by Tyrrik and pushed the back of my hand on his bare chest and tried to match my breathing to his.

  Dyter must’ve washed him again, this time more thoroughly. Tyrrik wore new trousers, tied at his waist. Something about them bothered me, and figuring out just what took a moment. The trousers weren’t black; they were green. Ha! I’d never seen Tyrrik in anything but black clothing.

  “Looks like your day was about as good as mine,” Dyter said. The contents of his pack were strewn everywhere. He held up the leather case and wrapped it in an aketon before shoving it back in the bag. He continued re-packing.

  I didn’t want to talk about my day yet. This room wasn’t big enough for a Drae transformation. “The queen doesn’t want to form an alliance?”

  Dyter sighed. “No, they most definitely don’t. I can’t think of any other angle to push from either. I pulled out all the stops today. The queen wasn’t interested, and then she fell into weariness again.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes, her weariness is awfully convenient.”

  Dyter tugged on his ear, a gentle reminder of potential listeners, and I closed my eyes. I was still in touch with my Drae senses, and after only a moment, I was able to block out Dyter and Tyrrik’s breathing and focus outside the doorway.

  “We’re clear,” I said.

  I watched the old man pack his bag again and tuck the worn bag under the foot of his bed.

  He looked at me expectantly.

  I’d regained enough control, so I filled him in on my day.

  Dyter sat completely still after my recount. He scratched at his stubble with his single hand. “Right.”

  I nodded, waiting for his insight.

  “There’s a child, you say?”

  “Yes, I have no idea where he or she is or if the child is still alive. But there was a child.” I frowned, recalling the tree’s yearning during the flashback. “The forest wants the child back more than anything, which I guess means the child has ancestral powers. Do you think that means the trees know the child’s alive somewhere?”

  Dyter shrugged. “My mind hasn’t really gotten past the fact trees can talk in the first place. But if the child has ancestral powers, the child is a she, right?”

  I nodded.

  Someone knocked at the door, and we both started. This time our exchanged glance was wide-eyed. Had we been overheard?

  I crossed to the door and swung it open. Kamoi stood in the hall, looking pristine. And beautiful.

  “Hello—”

  “I thought you were controlling your people in the southern part of the forest,” I said.

  His brows rose at my interruption. “I was. The problems there are now resolved.”

  And not a speck of dirt on you.

  “Are you okay, Ryn?” he asked, and I realized I was staring.

  I didn’t know what to make of the prince. His heart seemed to be in the right place as far as I could tell. He was being pressured by his mother, whom he loved as a son should. I felt like Kamoi was someone Dyter could convince to join the fight against the emperor but not while the prince’s allegiance was tied so strongly to his mother. If we could get Kamoi, we, I mean Dyter and the other rebels, would have more Phaetyn to help when the rebellion fought the emperor.

  “We need to talk,” I said, crossing my arms.

  He nodded to where Tyrrik was visible on the bed. “The Drae still slumbers.”

  “He does.” The twinge of worry I’d been carrying for the last two days flared, and I remember Tyrrik’s frown when he’d heard how long he’d been sleeping. “He should be recovered by now. Is there something wrong? Something else we should be doing?”

  Kamoi studied Tyrrik. “Not that I know of, Ryn. You’re doing all you can. Perhaps he was closer to death than you thought.”

  I frowned. He had been near death, but still, he’d been speaking the morning after the injury, and again this morning. Phaetyn poisoning or not, I’d definitely seared all of the poison out. Something didn’t feel right, but maybe Tyrrik had woken up while I was out and then gone back to sleep. “You’re absolutely sure?”

  “Of course.” He paused, pursing his lips. “I told you a similar thing happens to Phaetyn when we burn ourselves out. You must’ve felt it when you cured him?”

  The utter exhaustion? Yes, I had. I glanced back at Tyrrik, his face still relaxed in his stupor, chest rising and falling. “I really hope it’s not long until he wakes.”

  “You wanted to talk with me? Tabor, my guard at the Sacred Circle, said you’d requested my attention.”

  My eyes narrowed as I remembered exactly why I needed to speak with him. “Yes,” I said, teeth clenched. I called to Dyter, “I’ll be back soon.”

  I closed the door to the room, but before I could launch into my tirade, Kamoi reached out and wrapped a tendril of my hair around his finger.

  “Am I in trouble, Ryn?” he asked, smiling. His gaze dropped to my lips, and his violet eyes burned.

  I slapped his hand away, refusing to give in to his Phaetyn hotness. “Why do people think we’re going to bind?”

  His smile dropped, and pink crept up his jaw.

  “Yes, I heard about that,” I continued, warming up. “Don’t spread rumors about me. There is no us. And the fact you did that, without declaring your intentions to me to begin with, makes me furious. You have no idea how mortifying it is to have people ask me questions about us. I was embarrassed when I heard.”

  He’d become progressively smaller during my rant, and his cheeks burned under my blazing glare.

  He placed a hand over his heart. “You have my sincerest apology, Ryn. You are entirely, profoundly correct; I should have declared my intentions. My only defense is you are both beautiful and powerful, and I found myself at a loss as to how to broach this with you. Especially being in our current situation.”

  Heat entered my cheeks at his compliment, though I wasn’t sure I wholly believed him. “You should have kept it to yourself until we’d spoken.”

  His violet eyes gleamed, and he stepped closer to me, invading my space. In a husky voice, he asked, “Does this mean you’d consider a binding with me?”

  I stared at him. Whoa, I’d never talked with a man about this stuff before. The fake thing with Tyr had been explosive, born of a desperate situation. There was never any courting, nor any gradual descent. We’d fallen suddenly and all at once. I knew the asking usually went first in these things. I mean, give me some credit; Mum had told me a tale or two growing up. Had I been in a situation where a gorgeous guy with pointy ears wanted to court me? Nope. But, I was smart enough to know that entertaining said situation was a bad idea.

  Did I know how to reject someone nicely, or at all? No, but I could try.

  “No,” I blurted.

  He pulled back, hurt flickering across his face. “What?”

  My jaw dropped. Mistress moons, did I just say that out loud? “Uh, what I mean is this situation that you spoke of is, uh, dousing my, uh, fire.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “I don’t want to think of bindings and stuff right now.”

  I didn’t expect his quiet chuckle or for Kamoi to take my hand. “Ryn, you’re blushing.”

  I sniffed. “You’re not supposed to call me out on that. It’s manner rule number one.”

  “I apologize again then, but I find the color enticing. You are young; I forget, and maybe you’ve not had a man come to you as I am now.”

  I gave him a shy smile, my cheeks still burning. “I haven’t, but that doesn’t change my
answer, Kamoi.” He’d put himself out there, so he deserved an honest answer. “Recently, I fell in love and was hurt. I’m not past that yet.”

  His violet eyes softened. He raised my hand and kissed the back of it. “Then I will be content to wait until your heart is healed. Though you should know, Phaetyn are rather good at healing.”

  He winked, and I blushed again as I slid my hand free.

  “O-okay?” I said, feeling a pleasing coolness where he’d kissed my hand.

  Kamoi bowed. “There is to be an evening meal tonight,” he said, speaking as if our conversation had never occurred. “My mother believes a gathering of the Phaetyn will help to calm frayed tempers.”

  Relating this civil war to frayed tempers was like calling a Drae a kitten.

  “I hope you and Dyter will join us at the royal table,” he said after a brief pause.

  I’d just rejected the guy, so I practically tripped over myself as I answered, “Yes. Of course.”

  He leaned toward me and asked, “Will you sit beside me?”

  “Kamoi . . .” My heart pounded in my chest.

  He smiled. “Just as friends.”

  I’m not sure his people would interpret the seating plan that way. “I’d appreciate if you cleared up the rumors of our binding first,” I said. “As long as it’s clear to everyone we’re no more than friends, I’ll sit beside you.”

  “Ouch,” he said. “You know how to wound a man.”

  I reached behind my back to open the door and backed into the room as a grin bubbled up. “Lucky you’re a good healer then.”

  I winked and closed the door in his face.

  * * *

  I stared at the flower crown and the other . . . thing.

  “Does that top lace up?” Dyter asked, peering over my shoulder. “And where are the sleeves.”

  I used the tip of my finger to pick up one of the drooping sleeves. “There.”

  The ‘lace up top’ was a silver corset with green vines embroidered into it.

  Dyter’s face was turning purple, and he shook his head violently. “Completely indecent. Not happening. I’ll be having a word with Kamoi. I heard some of your conversation. I’ll be darned if there’s any Phaetyn binding going on.”