Black Crown (Darkest Drae, #3)

Shifting my butt on the gray stone, I glared up at him. “No, I mean they don’t mix, and I’m mixing them. Stay close by. I’m going to have to let my Drae shield down to talk to the trees.” I bit my lip as nerves twisted my stomach. I didn’t like the thought of dropping my Drae barrier, but Tyrrik was here.

I relaxed the tendrils of my Drae power from where they’d been wrapped around my mind, letting them crawl and wind with Tyrrik’s onyx energy. With a deep breath, I placed my hands back onto the rigid bark of the tall evergreen.

Hundreds of Phaetyn were marching through the Gemond mountains with Queen Lani, their expressions concentrated and serious as if they each understood the task they’d chosen to undertake.

The tightness in my chest unfurled and I sighed, my shoulders relaxing. I had no idea if the Phaetyn had passed this way or were yet to come, but the healers from Zivost were, in fact, coming to join us.

I withdrew my hands, and my skin brushed the pine needles closer to the surface. A new vision filled my mind’s eye.

This tree, this copse of trees swayed in the wind. The Phaetyn passed by, and there near the edge of the trees, stalks of tiny pale bluish-purple flowers sprouted through the rocks.

I blinked, and my vision cleared. I glanced over the cliff edge at the flowers and then met Tyrrik’s gaze with a grin of triumph.

“How long ago?”

“Not long.” I pointed at the cluster of blooms swaying in the breeze. “Those flowers were fresh in the tree’s vision, just like they are today. I don’t know how long these bloom for, but they looked the same.”

“Leave your Drae shield down while we fly and only your Phaetyn veil up. Maybe then you’ll see her gold power.”

“Stay close,” I said, knowing he would understand my nervousness. There was no way I wanted to lead my father to the Phaetyn.





21





The mountains blurred beneath us, but just like the trees had said, eventually on the horizon ahead, I saw shimmering gold.

There it is. I sent Tyrrik an image so he could see the Phaetyn power himself. I was counting on my ancestral power to get us both through Lani’s barrier while in our Drae form.

We descended and landed just inside Lani’s golden ancestral veil without a hitch. Five Phaetyn froze, their mouths gaping as they stared at the two Drae in their midst.

Could be worse, I decided, considering we were their natural enemy.

One of them crumpled to the ground, and I frowned. Maybe that Phaetyn was prone to fainting attacks?

Tyrrik and I shifted back to our other forms, and three of the remaining group of Phaetyn screamed and ran. I sighed. The Phaetyn were definitely terrified of us after Draedyn’s attack and my role in handing Kamini over.

One stood rooted in place, blinking, trembling, his fists clenched to his sides.

“That’s your fault,” I said to Tyrrik. They probably think you’re the emperor. I waved at the single Phaetyn and said, “Hey there, friend. Is Lani around?”

His shoulders relaxed, and he closed his eyes. “You”—his voice trembled as he spoke, but he held my gaze—“sh-shouldn’t b-be allowed t-t-to d-d-do that.”

Tyrrik slid his arm around my waist, and his irritation flashed through me before he spoke. “I always believed the Phaetyn would have incredible distinction for color. The idea that they can confuse black and emerald green makes me question their intelligence.”

I snickered to let the Phaetyn know Tyrrik was joking, or rather he should’ve been joking. We both knew the Phaetyn were necessary even if there was no love lost between our races. Plus, as long as they could tell the difference between an injured person and not, I was happy.

“If you can’t help, friend, that’s al’right,” I said to the guy.

Why do you keep saying friend, my love?

Shh, it’s working.

We both turned toward the sweating and shaking Phaetyn.

See? Looking away from the terrified man, I squeezed Tyrrik’s waist and, tilting my head toward the crowd, said, “Let’s go and find Lani.”

We didn’t have to in the end. Lani marched through her people, silver robes billowing behind her.

“What took you so long?” she asked when she stood directly in front of me. “I expected you days ago.”

I stepped away from Tyrrik to draw the Phaetyn queen in for a tight hug. “I was getting worried too.”

Pulling back to look her in the eyes, I noticed a tightness around her lavender orbs. “There have been some developments. Let’s fly far enough away so we can talk.”

“I can’t,” she said with a tilt of her head at her people, her hand immediately going to her head to keep her silver crown in place. “I’m just now starting to feel confident in the trust I’m striving to build with my people. If I leave now, it will derail all my efforts.”

She grimaced, and I felt a twinge of pity for her. A big twinge, actually, because her people could be really vicious. Healers . . . and brutal murderers. Oxymorons, the lot of them.

As if reading my mind, the queen said, “I need their trust, and so do you.”

Ouch.

That trust isn’t going to last if they find out Draedyn is invading your mind, Tyrrik said.

He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. I shook my head, trying to convey to her how weighty said development was. “It’s my secret.”

A breeze lifted her hair and ruffled everyone’s aketons and robes. The air caressed my skin, and Lani offered me a sad smile.

“Ryn, what happened back in the forest with your father wasn’t your fault, but I know you understand the consequences of being forced to hand my sister over, unfair or not. If you want to earn their trust after what they saw, you’re going to have to be vulnerable enough to earn it. They’re uncomfortable, and you’ll have to show them they can trust you if you want to change their perception.”

I simultaneously saw her point and didn’t. Deep down I resented the assumption that because of my power, I was expected to do more than everyone around me. Yet again, I was being asked to give another piece of myself away. Even knowing she had a valid point, I didn’t like it. And yet, I’d already given away so much. Why stop now? I heaved a sigh. “Fine. Do you want to erect a platform so I can announce it to all of them? Then I only have to do this once.”

Lani crossed her arms over her chest and snapped, “Grow up. You’ve been a victim. Don’t let it define you.”

“Hold up,” I retorted. “Did you even think about what you’re asking me to do, Lani? Would you like a whole race of people to know the ins and outs of your power?” I challenged. “Would you be willing to detail all of your strengths and weaknesses not only to King Calvetyn but all of Verald?”

We glared at one another, and she finally broke the stare-down. Waving at someone in her entourage, she said, “Makau, help Osofi.” She pointed at the Phaetyn who had fainted and then at me and Tyrrik. “Let’s confer with my counsel then.”

Lani led us toward a blue canvas pavilion, much like the one King Zakai had used for his council meetings. Maybe there was a handbook for new rulers or something in their genetics that drove them to have these canvas structures created with their ascension to the throne, or maybe they were passed down from ruler to ruler. Stupid canvas tent of doom. I showed my massive maturity level by not saying anything . . . out loud.

I hate them too. I had to shift in one once, and the tent lines got tangled in my talons.

The visual cheered me up as he’d intended no doubt. Thanks for that, I said, snuggling closer. You’re the bestest.

Mmm-hmm. I know. His jaw hardened as we drew closer to the pavilion.

Kamoi’s guard, now wearing aketons the color of the mountain stone, stood around the tent, spears in hand. Most kept their attention fixed outward, but my gaze collided with a couple of the men, and their eyes narrowed. One guard tightened his grip on his weapon in a way that didn’t seem to scream welcome.

“They’re not going to try and attack, right?” I asked. Not that anything they did could harm me, but I wasn’t going to be forgiving if I had to burn gold Phaetyn blood out of Tyrrik again. Ever. Or if they upset Lani’s trust plans. I rolled my eyes at the thought, realizing I was upsetting her trust plans.

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