Shadow Wings (The Darkest Drae Book 2)(46)

“I’ll be fine. If you want to go back to the Pink House, that's totally okay with me.” Maybe he’d take the hint and leave me alone.

“I appreciate your kindness, Highness,” he said, the hardness of his features a direct contradiction to his words. “But, my loyalty lies with Kamoi. He has asked me to guard you. Unless someone else from the royal family tells me otherwise, I’ll be with you until you return to the Rose Castle.”

Flip my pancakes. Pink House, Rose Castle. Obviously my politicking skills needed work. And what did he mean that he was going to guard me? Was he protecting me from others or others from me?

I decided to ignore Harlan and stepped off the path into the trees. I scanned the trunks in front of me, chose the thickest one, and placed my hands upon it. Closing my eyes, I pushed away my thoughts of Kamoi, Tyrrik, and the Phaetyn conflict and asked the tree to share its memories with me.

“What the Drae are you doing?” a young girl asked.

I pulled my hands back from the trunk and turned around. Phew, just Kamini, Kamoi's younger sister.

The young girl was dressed in hemp fibers similar to what I wore, only hers fit as if they were made for her. Her tunic was more of a short dress with a ruffled hem at her knees. Her silver hair was plaited, and she’d pulled the long braid over her shoulder and played with the unbound ends.

“It's Kamini, right?” I asked, extending my hand in greeting.

The young girl looked at my hand, and her gaze chilled as she met mine. “Why are you here?”





19





Whoa. The Phaetyn princess was direct. I hadn’t gotten that vibe from her yesterday with her one million emotions per minute.

How to explain to the young girl what was happening in the world outside of the Zivost forest? That it made me sick to know there were so many Phaetyn here who could change so many lives in the realm. There was no way I was going to explain about Gemond and their cannibalistic ways. I thought of Verald and its recent coup. Not at all appropriate for a seven-year-old. I wasn’t going to get into how power-crazy my father was . . . a recount of how he’d tortured the girl’s aunt to try and make a super race wasn’t exactly a conversation starter.

“I want to learn about being Phaetyn,” I said, finally.

“But you’re not Phaetyn,” she retorted, putting her hands on her hips. The young girl flicked her braid. “You're going to try and take away our kingdom, aren’t you?”

If she’d hit me, I would’ve been less surprised. “No way. I don’t want this kingdom. I don’t want any kingdom. I really came here to learn about the Phaetyn and get some understanding of my powers.”

The girl dropped her hands to her side and narrowed her eyes. Several seconds passed, and I let her study me uninterrupted. Finally, she said, “Did you know I can tell if someone is lying? Did Kamoi tell you?”

Good thing I told the truth. I shook my head.

Kamini waved at Harlan. “You can go.”

Harlan puffed out his chest and said, “Kamoi has commanded—”

“How dare you?” Her violet eyes blazed with anger. “You know I’m a royal just the same as him. Regardless of what my mother might say about my age, I am plenty old to issue commands.”

Right. I couldn’t let Kamini’s small stature and youthful appearance confuse me. She wasn’t seven or eight. I was probably talking to a thirty year old. That creeped me out. They should wear badges or something.

Harlan inclined his head and stalked off, disappearing among the trees.

“How do you know he’ll really leave?” I asked. I leaned to the side to see if my Drae vision would allow me to see how far the Phaetyn had gone. My vision didn’t change. My sense of smell seemed instinctual, but everything else required control or a healthy dose of fear, anger, or some other heightened emotion to help me in this form. Drak.

“Oh, he won’t leave. Harlan is only loyal to Kamoi. He humors me because Kamoi told him to, but there’s no way Kamoi is going to let you out of his sight.” Her violet eyes studied me, and she waved me forward. “Come on; you wanted to find out how the trees work? I’ll show you.”

I followed Kamini deeper into the woods, and my hearing confirmed what she’d said. Harlan followed, his movements obvious in the underbrush where twigs and leaves had fallen.

“Did you know about our war before you came?” she asked, turning to look at me after she delivered her question.

“No.” I probably wouldn’t have come if I did. One civil war was enough—at least, for me. Actually, one civil war had been too much.

As soon as I answered, she turned around and pushed forward again.

“I thought the Phaetyn only had healing powers,” I said.

“That’s true for most Phaetyn,” she said, an answer that wasn’t really an answer.

Kamini stopped in front of a small spruce tree. “Do you see how the needles on this tree’s branches glow? Do you see how the trunk of the tree almost pulsates with energy? If you touch here”—she put her hand on the tips of the needles in front of her face—“you will see the tree’s most recent memories or the messages that float through the air like gossip.”

That was . . . awesome. I rested my palm on the prickly spines of the blue spruce. Fleeting images of a Phaetyn crossed the canvas behind my eyes. The images were pale, almost faded, and only pieces of the picture were clear; almost like a puzzle with only half the pieces.