Shadow Wings (The Darkest Drae Book 2)(52)

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.