“Your wives and children,” I hissed at the, now, three guards outside. I watched their eyes widen, and I hurried after the prince.
We wound down two more halls before the Phaetyn prince stopped. I bumped into him, putting both of my hands on his back to steady myself. Yep, about as muscular as I expected. I stepped back, rubbing the tip of my nose as he turned around to look at me. I did my best to ignore his small smile, acting as if I’d meant to paw at him like that.
The smile faded as he took hold of the handle and, with a deep breath, pushed the door open.
Dyter and I shared a glance, and he entered; there was something more going on, only I wasn’t sure what. I inched into the room after him, and the scent of stagnant air and illness slapped my senses. Someone needed to open a window and air the place out and maybe offer to bathe the queen.
Queen Alani lay in the middle of a four poster bed made of polished ash. Her sallow skin was almost as blanched of color as the bedding. Deep purple-blue circles marred the area under her eyes, and her silver hair held no luster. Her thin body was hidden in the folds of the hemp blankets, and she didn’t even stir as we came to stand around her large bed.
Movement in the corner drew my gaze. A handsome man stood there, staring at Dyter and me, gripping a spear though Kamoi’s presence seemed to be holding the man back from advancing. The strange Phaetyn acted like we’d surprised them by entering the room, yet I distinctly remembered the prince telling his sister to go and alert the king and queen of our approach.
“Kamoi,” the queen whispered, her dry and raspy voice sounding like rubbing paper.
Everyone turned to the bed, but I angled my body to keep the unknown man in sight.
“Mother,” Kamoi bent and kissed her waxen cheek. “I have some people I would like you to meet.”
“If this isn’t a good time . . .” I said, eying the door. The queen looked ready to kick it; she was practically decaying in her bed. The Phaetyn outside already hated me. I didn’t even want to contemplate what they’d do if their leader died with me in the room.
“It’s as good a time as any,” the queen said. “Help me sit.”
Kamoi helped prop her against the headboard, stuffing pillows behind her.
“Are you ill, Queen Alani?” Dyter asked, bowing low.
“After a fashion, yes,” she said, eyeing first Dyter then me. Her pale lavender eyes were flat and watery.
Great. Another one of those cryptic people.
“Mother,” Kamoi said, nodding at the other man. “I traveled to Verald and discovered the rumors to be true. There was indeed another Phaetyn there.” He gestured to me, and I waved. “This is Ryn. She is Drae and Phaetyn.”
The Queen gasped, “Faatasi uma? Leaga le malaia.”
I frowned at Dyter. “That didn’t sound complimentary.”
“Life and death,” the man behind us said. “How is such a thing possible?”
Why were they acting so surprised? Kamoi tree-talked ahead and told them all this. I held up a hand, which was all I could think of to be polite. No one said anything, so I jumped in and asked the man, “Are you Kamoi’s father?”
“I apologize, Ryn,” Kamoi said. “Yes, this is my father, Kaelan.”
“Nice to meet you.” I dipped my head and bobbed a little then did the same to the queen because she was their leader.
The three Phaetyn observed me, and the silence stretched and became awkward. I shifted my gaze between the three royals, waiting for one of them to speak. Maybe I should’ve asked Dyter for etiquette lessons instead of the history of Gemond.
Kamoi broke the weird staring contest. “The Ash Tree showed Ryn visions, Mother. She was also able to grant Lord Irrik access through our barrier by resting a hand upon him.”
“Tyrrik,” I corrected with an edge to my tone. “His name is Tyrrik.”
Queen Alani’s gaze snapped from Kamoi to me, her eyes now bright and focused. She studied me, her expression hardening. “Indeed?” she asked, returning her attention to Kamoi.
“Indeed,” he repeated with a nod.
The queen shifted in the bed, asking, “What did the tree show you, child?”
Clearly they didn’t care about Tyrrik’s name. Or mine. I smiled at her, pushing my lips up in a meaningless motion as I replied, “I’m not a child.”
Dyter cleared his throat, but I ignored his unsubtle hint to mind my manners.
“You are surely not older than two decades—” she said, her fists gripping the bedcovers.
“Eighteen.”
Her violet eyes flashed at my interruption, and she raised her chin. “Eighteen, you say? Then I was right: just a child. Here, we are considered children until seventy. My son has only recently entered adulthood at one hundred and fifty years.”
Kamoi was one hundred and fifty? He’d aged really well.
“I am only half Phaetyn,” I replied. “So, I repeat. I’m not a child.”
“That is what every child would say,” the queen said with a condescending smile.
I opened my mouth and Dyter took my hand, squeezing it gently.
“Good,” the queen said, observing my simmering silence. “Now, what did you see when you touched the Ash Tree?”
Right. She expected me to divulge my secrets after being that rude? “There is a river two miles west of here,” I replied, cocking a hip out. “That’s what the tree showed me.”
We held each other’s gaze, and I ignored the squeeze from Dyter, another hint for me to pull my head in.
She sunk into her pillows and closed her eyes. “I have upset you,” she said, stating the obvious. “Let me begin then by telling you why I am so weak. Perhaps then you will trust me with what you saw.”
I didn’t answer, a creeping sensation filling me. I was beginning to realize entering this place might have been a terrible idea. I may have an enemy in a place I’d never expected to have one.
“Phaetyn used to roam throughout the Draconian realm,” she began. “It is only in the last century we were forced to confine ourselves in the heart of our familial forest where we are strongest. When the Veraldian King and Emperor sought to destroy us, my sister, then the Queen of Phaetyn, erected an unbreakable protection around our home which fed off her ancestral power.”
“Queen Luna,” I said. “She left this place.”
The temperature in the room dropped.
“She did,” Kaelan, Kamoi’s father, said, stepping closer. “In answer to the emperor’s summons, and she took her ancestral power with her, leaving us vulnerable. The emperor forced her, as he had with other Phaetyn, to use her powers in experiments on Drae women he’d impregnated. Drae cannot reproduce unless it is with their mate, but the emperor wanted more Drae, and none of the women he’d forced himself upon would carry to term. He drained Luna’s power over the years in an attempt to keep the pregnancies viable, without success. He killed many of our kind in this way. Years later, we heard rumors Luna had died—drained of her power completely.”
My lips numbed as I guessed the rest. “She healed my mother?”