I spun to see Kamoi emerging from the rubble.
“If you wish to leave, it must be now,” Kamini said urgently, her eyes flickering to Kamoi.
I looked at Kamini, but the Phaetyn girl shook her head. I didn’t know if that meant she didn’t trust Kamoi or if she didn’t want him to overhear this conversation.
I deliberated. I really didn’t want to linger here or want to trust anyone else, not even with the tree’s assurances, but Dyter and I could wander for hours lost in this place. “Fine,” I said. “Let’s go.”
We backed into the trees, Kamini leading the way.
We walked for what felt like an eternity to my weary body. As the branches of trees brushed my skin, I caught glimpses of Phaetyn running, hiding in clusters, royal guards giving chase. Dyter walked alongside me, silent as a mute.
I cleared my throat, shifting Tyrrik on my shoulders, and asked, “Can we stop for a minute? Are we far enough away from . . . wherever that it’s safe for us to take a break?”
Kamini turned, the fear on her adult-child face smoothing to an impassive expression.
Creepy.
“If we stop now, we might not make it to the border in time.”
“In time?” I demanded. I wanted to scream. “How about if I shift again and carry us all to the border?”
“Then we definitely won’t make it in time. If they see your Drae form, we’ll have too many visitors for you to tree-talk,” she said. “How long did it take you to get to the center of Zivost when they brought you in?”
“About four hours,” I said. The idea of carrying Tyrrik for another four hours made me want to curl up in a ball.
“We’ve been walking for twenty minutes,” Kamini said. “We’ll be to the border in another five minutes.”
Wait . . . What? I tried to catch up with the Phaetyn’s plan. Get to the border and tree-talk. Right.
“They do it to confuse visitors.”
I was confused now. “You get visitors?” I asked, glancing at Dyter, who looked just as baffled as me.
“Not often, but leading newcomers a longer route to our city is protocol,” Kamini said.
Seriously, having a conversation with an eight-year-old that sounded like she was thirty was so creepy.
“Why are you helping us?” I asked, helplessly. “I just killed the queen and king.”
Her gaze slid to me. “I should be thanking you for killing the queen; that certainly helps our cause.”
This time when I shifted Tyrrik it wasn’t really because he needed it. “You’re a rebel?”
She dipped her head. “Correct. Now, this is of utmost importance. I must know what the ash tree told you.”
Since entering the Zivost, the only things to tell me the absolute truth had been the trees. And the trees trusted Kamini. She was Luna’s daughter. That meant something. I glanced to Dyter, who didn’t give me any sign of what to do . . . so I trusted my gut.
In a halting voice which grew stronger, I told the story of her mother leaving her with her aunt. I finished the story by asking, “Did you already know?”
She shook her head. “I suspected Alani wasn’t my mother. I knew Kaelan wasn’t my father.”
“Wouldn’t the trees tell you?” I asked. If the trees tell Phaetyn what they’ve seen, wouldn’t she be able to see it, too.
She shook her head again, a slow smile spreading across her face. “I don’t have a tree here, and I don’t have the ancestral power, so I can’t talk with all the trees as you can.”
I tripped over an exposed tree root. “But your mother was Luna Nuloa.”
“So you say. That’s why I want you to talk with the trees at the border.”
“To confirm she was your mother?” I was missing something. Granted, I was physically and mentally exhausted. Actually, I think I’d passed exhausted on the spectrum and was rapidly approaching delirious.
But if Luna Nuloa was Kamini’s mother, wouldn’t that make Kamini the new queen? Shouldn’t she also have ancestral powers being born before me? The eldest daughter inherited them after all. I only had ancestral power because Luna had poured hers into me so my mother wouldn’t miscarry. Surely if Kamini had ancestral powers, that would be common knowledge.
“Do you dream?” she asked, changing the subject.
I stumbled again and growled. “I’ve been too tired lately to dream.”
But that wasn’t completely true because last night here in Zivost, I dreamed the emperor’s Druman were chasing me. I was not going to share my nightmares with her.
“I dream all the time,” she said. “I dream about a Phaetyn girl. She lives outside our walls. She does what the Phaetyn are meant to do; she’s a land healer.” She paused and then added, “I believe it is my destiny to become her.”
“Is that what drove you to join the rebellion?” Dyter asked.
Kamini laughed, but the sound reverberated with bitterness. “That vision is what drove me to create the rebellion.”
Holy Pancakes! Kamini was the leader of the rebellion? I shared a shocked look with Dyter.
She halted. “We’re here. You can set him down,” she said. “I need you to touch the tree. It should be easier now. Phaetyn powers get easier every time you use them.”
I slid Tyrrik from my shoulders to the ground, circling my arms to loosen the stiff muscles. “First tell me what you’re looking for?”
“The truth,” she said, grabbing my empty hands and pressing them to the trunk of a large elm.
Colors burst behind my eyes, and then murky shadows formed. Luna Nuloa and her guards stood beside the elm, the queen holding her daughter wrapped in a silvery blanket. Luna lowered the rock wall, and as she tilted her head to see to the other side of the barrier, the moonlight exposed her devastated face. She murmured to one of the guards, but her words were lost in the silence of the images. She pointed back toward Zivost and then to the outside. The wall retracted, and the three of them began to cross.
As Luna left Zivost for the other side, her mortal lover emerged. He smiled, his eyes lit with love, and in his arms, he held a small child.