Kamoi tucked a strand of silver hair behind his ear—could ears be hot—and came back to walk beside me. “No.”
“No . . .” Was that a no, I’m distracted? Or a no, I’m not telling you anything?
We started down the dirt path, but the road was narrow, and Dyter and the horse were forced to drop behind.
“So, do you have similar powers?” I pressed. “Phaetyn are all healers, right?”
“Yes,” Kamoi said, his eyes shifting to the left. His gaze returned to me, and he continued, “Phaetyn are all healers, but some have an affinity for animals, some for plants, some for the earth, and some, well, really only one—for people. The queen holds the most power, having the responsibility to protect our lands—”
Smoking bonfires. “Your mom is the most powerful Phaetyn?”
Kamoi chewed his lower lip as if contemplating his response. Or perhaps he was embarrassed by his mother's superpowers.
“Honestly, I think that's amazing.” I rushed to assuage his discomfort. “Does that mean you have superpowers like her?”
He chuckled, a low throaty sound, as he shook his head. Giving me a pointed look, he said, “My only superpower seems to be an inordinate amount of good luck.”
My mind blanked as our narrow path opened, and we stepped into a clearing.
The verdant grass sparkled like green emeralds. A beautiful ash tree, larger even than the elm that had just flashed images at me, sat directly in front of a pristine mansion made of rose quartz. With four spires, the house had a distinct castle feel although on a much smaller scale. And, while I was distracted by the gleaming structure for a moment, my attention snapped back to the tree.
Similar to the elm back in the sacred clearing, this tree was wide and tall. But the elm’s leaves had been green and its bark, although rough, thick and brown. This ash tree's foliage looked as though the plant had been infested with disease. The leaves of the tree were yellowed and their curled tips brittle and cracked. While the trunk was thick as well as the branches near it, the tree’s extremities were bare and broken. Twigs littered the ground beneath it. Where the elm had awed me, the sight of this tree broke my heart.
“Come, Kealani,” Kamoi said, his face twisting into concern.
Kamoi took a step forward on the path leading to the house, but I left him there and went to the ash tree, drawn once more. There was no wave of emotion calling me, except the unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach left from receiving snatches of the previous queen’s life only moments before. I was tired of non-answers, hints, avoidance, and most of all manipulation. The trees wanted me to know something. I felt a duty to them.
I was tired of missing out. Of making my decisions based on the information others fed me. The trees held memories, and in my heart, I knew they spoke truth. To know that, when truth seemed so hard to come by these days, made me eager to oblige them.
Placing my hands on the grayish bark, I closed my eyes and waited. The trees didn’t take long to answer my call.
A stunning woman with wavy silver hair appeared, laughing and smiling, the joy in her eyes breathtaking. Next to her was a man, a Phaetyn, the same Phaetyn who was mated to the previous queen. He had slanting brows, high cheekbones, and full lips.
Was this Kamoi's father? There was a strong resemblance to the prince. Kamoi’s story of his parents and his childhood came back to me, and I knew I’d guessed correctly. Was this stunning woman his mother?
The image dissolved, and another took its place. The beautiful lady now wept, and the Phaetyn man pulled her into his arms. Another vision took hold, and this time, the same woman sat on a throne, rocking a tiny infant in her arms. The image faded, and then the woman knelt on the floor, alone in a dark room, holding a drawing of the previous queen, Queen Luna, while she wept. Her anguish was echoed by the tree, and my heart ached for her sorrow.
“Can you see her? How she used to be?” Kamoi asked in a rough whisper.
His warm hands covered mine, and I opened my eyes to see his violet eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“Did you see my mother?” He choked on the last word, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Kamoi gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, breathing hard.
I took the opportunity to study him. This close, I noticed his lower lip was fuller than his upper, and the definition of his chest muscles peeked out from the dip in his aketon. His fists were clenched, accentuating his corded arms; his chest was broader, and instead of being lean like Tyrrik, the Phaetyn prince was much more muscular and thick, like a tree trunk.
There was something about Kamoi: his kindness, his patience, and the fact that he made me feel like I belonged with just a small touch, which spoke to me on some level. My blood knew his blood.
I reached forward and rested my palm on his cheek. He gasped and pulled me to him, wrapping me in a warm embrace. He smelled like spring, like fresh rain and herbs with an undertone of smoky pine.
His hands gripped my back, pushing into my skin. Energy pulsed between us, and I could feel his eagerness for my touch. But a memory of the torture room slammed into my mind, the feeling of being confined and trapped and out of control. Something deep inside screamed.
I pulled back from the Phaetyn prince, stepping out of his reach.
“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry,” I said, face heating. Jotun’s face, slamming doors, rows of scalpels.
I squeezed the memories away, locking them deep inside. I choked out, “I-I I did see your mother; she's beautiful. She sick, isn't she?”
“Let’s go meet her. You can see for yourself.” He held out his hand in invitation.
I looked at Kamoi’s hand, willing the shivering remnants of my panicked moment away, telling myself I was being ridiculous. He’d been nothing but nice to me, and I’d never had that response with his previous touches. But then, what we’d just shared was more than a simple hand hold. I was absolutely certain whatever just happened, the panic was dregs of darkness from inside of me, left over from the castle. I looked at Dyter watching our exchange with a furrowed brow.
There with him was Tyrrik, still unconscious and draped over the horse like a sack of potatoes. As I looked at the Drae, my heart tripped, skipping a few beats. Swift anger followed the light sensation. Mistress moons. There was something so not right in my head. Tyrrik had lied to me from day one; I wasn’t okay with feeling anything for him. I wouldn’t feel anything for him.
Kamoi stood waiting, his hand still extended, although as he turned to follow my gaze, his hand sunk back toward his side. Before he could completely withdraw it, I resolutely reached forward and grabbed his hand and stepped closer. The way Kamoi treated me was normal. The way Tyrrik had treated me was anything but.
Kamoi's eyes lit, and he offered a tentative smile.