Tree Singer by Jacci Turner (best novels for beginners TXT) 📕

her face so white Mayten was afraid she would faint. The count stepped up to take Nan’s arm, but he didn’t look much better.

Mayten took a deep breath and laid her hands on Rafe again. He relaxed as soon as she touched him.

Quickly, she followed the energy down. Now she could see clearly where the branch was broken. She sent her energy to the break, using all her will to knit the bone together.

The energy chaos surrounding the leg quieted. Her energy flowed through him—soothing the bone, the muscles, the skin—leaving calm, peace, relief.

And then blackness overtook her.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Someone was playing a flute . . . and . . . was that Taiwania singing?

Confused and disoriented, Mayten struggled to open her eyes. Had she died and her spirit somehow returned to home?

The idea did not frighten her. In fact, it gave her a measure of joy and peace.

Home.

Wood smoke stung her nose, the scent of burning fir shattering the illusion of being home. Da only burned pine at home. Fir burned too fast, too hot.

Mayten forced her eyes open. Stars twinkled high overhead, and firelight flickered over fir boughs—

“She’s awake!” Count Monroe gave her a smile that lit his face. He sat awkwardly on his pack beside her, hands atop his knees.

She was still a bit groggy. The count rose to his feet and helped her sit up.

Anatolian licked her cheek. Nan and Tom sat up straighter and smiled at her. Adven sat on his haunches, sipping from a cup, watching her.

“Are you okay?” asked Nan and Tom at the same time.

She nodded. Their concern touched her. Adven shoved a plate of food at her. At first, Mayten didn’t think she could eat. Then the aroma of bacon reached her and she realized she was famished.

The image of Tray shoving cheese in his mouth made her slow down, shocked she’d consumed almost half the food on her plate. She glanced around, trying to get her bearings.

A figure lay on the far side of the fire, still and unmoving.

Rafe.

“Is he dead?” Mayten asked, fear hammering in her chest. “Did I kill him?”

Adven laughed, a gravelly sound she’d last heard during one of Hunter’s campfire stories. He took her plate, refilled it, and handed it back. “Sleeping. As impossible as it might sound, I think you healed him.”

Her eyes filled with tears which she hurriedly blinked away. Losing two woodsmen would have been hard on Adven. And losing the king’s best woodsman . . . who knew what that would mean.

She stared down at her plate, no longer hungry. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it.” Nan stepped up to the fire and warmed her hands. “There’s no scientific explanation.”

“It’s not supernatural,” the count said. “Not in the way you’re thinking, Princess. What Mayten did concerns the flow of energy.”

Nan chewed her bottom lip, apparently lost in thought.

“I can’t believe I’ve never thought of it myself,” the count muttered. “A tree singer who can heal. It makes perfect sense. Mayten gave her energy to Rafe as she repaired the damage in his leg. That’s why she’s so tired . . . and hungry.” He turned to her. “Am I right?”

Mayten nodded. “It’s the way we work with trees. Only we don’t get drained by it. That was the most exhausting thing I’ve ever done. How long did I sleep?”

“You were out for four hours,” the prince said. “I—we—were very worried.”

“I thought maybe you gave too much,” the count said. He stared at her as if mystified. “Healers learn to give only a certain amount of their life force but you are untrained. You could have killed yourself.”

“But how did I get over here?” Mayten asked. Her last memory was kneeling over the woodsman.

“I . . . ,” the prince started, then turned bright red. “We carried you here after you fainted.”

Mayten stared at him a moment, struggling to understand what was going on. Nan gave her brother a light punch in the shoulder.

Mayten decided to change the subject. “When I woke up, there was the most beautiful singing. I thought maybe I’d died.”

“That was Nan,” Tom said as the princess glanced away. “She has the best voice in the castle.”

A scientist who could sing. Looked like Princess Nan was more than just a grumpy gardener.

Mayten set her plate aside and lay back down on her blanket. “I’d love to hear more—if you don’t mind.”

The princess seemed to shrink into herself, clearly uncomfortable with praise. She leaned over and whispered in the prince’s ear. He picked up a flute and began to play as Nan sang of love and loss and a pain so deep Mayten wondered if Nan had experienced such a love story herself. As she sang, the firelight transformed her face into that of an angel.

Mayten pulled the blanket snug around her shoulders. Funny how faces could be transformed.

A simple smile had transformed the prince’s face, turning it from an angry boy into a handsome young man.

Pain had transformed Rafe’s face into a mask of agony.

Even Count Monroe’s face had transformed during their journey. When he’d clapped with delight over Anatolian’s antics, the count looked as though years had fallen away.

~ * ~

Mayten slept deeply, waking to the cheerful sounds of Anatolian splashing in the lake and the smell of frying onions. She sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes. The sun was already up. Adven squatted by the fire, poking at whatever he’d stuck in the cooking pan. He forked potatoes onto two plates, stalked over and handed her one of the plates.

Rafe watched groggily from the opposite side of the fire. He was sitting up but looked pale and disoriented. No one else was around.

“Where is everyone?” Mayten asked as she took the plate.

Adven walked around the fire to Rafe and handed the woodsman the second plate. “Monroe is off taking notes on I don’t know what, the botanist is off kissing plants, and I’m here babysitting invalids.”

His eyes glinted with what might have been a touch of mischief.

Mayten nibbled at a potato,