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

stared down at her trembling hands. “I should have figured it out sooner.”

“That was terrifying.” Nan gave her an apologetic smile. “I had no idea . . .”

“It felt like someone opened a vein and all my blood was draining out,” the prince said.

“That’s almost exactly what he was doing,” Mayten said. “Only instead of blood, he was draining your life energy, something that is against everything we singers believe.”

She wanted—no, needed—them to understand. The count was a sick man, the exception, not the rule. “A singer’s job is to help the life force of living things grow, not to drain it. I never knew such an evil person existed until we came to the castle. Taking life like that—it is the only offense that can lead to death for a singer. Luckily, draining four people at once was more difficult than he expected.”

“And he didn’t factor in Anatolian.” Adven scratched the dog’s ears. Anatolian happily thumped his tail.

That was probably the nicest thing Adven had said, even if he’d said it to her dog.

Mayten’s eyes teared. “I was fairly sure I knew what was happening. I just wasn’t sure who was doing it. And I definitely didn’t know what to do about it.”

“That count had us all fooled,” Adven said, giving her a nod. “I think we’ll stay here tonight. Think you’re well enough to rustle up some dinner, Rafe?”

Rafe nodded and the others got to their feet to gather wood. Mayten sat a moment longer, stunned by Adven’s comment. Had she finally earned his respect?

Chapter Thirty-Two

Mayten woke to a strange sensation . . . as if something was calling her to rise and come. Though the sky was still dark, the air filled with predawn chill and the scent of damp earth, she crawled out of her blanket and stumbled to the closest pine tree, trying not to wake the others.

Anatolian huffed in concern. He trotted over to her side and pressed his warm, shaggy body against her.

Appreciating the warmth, she stroked the dog’s head, then wrapped her arms around the tree’s trunk. Rough bark scratched her hands and wrists and the scent of vanilla filled her nose. All sensation faded when she realized the trees were singing! Rejoicing over the death of the evil one . . .

Over and over, her face reflected in the visions shared by the trees. She didn’t understand at first—

She was being honored! As the one who’d defeated the man who’d been killing trees for centuries!

Mayten closed her eyes and let her spirit soar with the song. Sensations thrilled through her—the joy of spring, the birth of a baby, the first steps of a newborn fawn—bringing her spirit into the tree, becoming one with the spirit she touched and each of the spirits beyond—trees, plants, and animals—all the entities of the island . . .

Until she lost her sense of self, becoming a part of all that was.

She didn’t know when she had joined the song. She sang light notes that bounced and moved with joy, her voice joining theirs in jubilant melody, filling her with energy and relief, healing and love.

Slowly she became aware of the others behind her. She turned toward the camp. Met the gaze of four pairs of eyes, wide with wonder.

“They’re happy.” Mayten brushed tears from her face and gestured around her. “The trees are happy.”

~ * ~

The trek back to the castle was somber, almost holy. Mayten wrapped Rafe’s leg and he used the count’s cane as they walked. His leg wasn’t giving him too much trouble and they moved steadily along.

Adven carried the count’s hat and boots in a blanket tied to his pack. He’d slowed until she caught up. They’d walked quietly side by side for what seemed forever. Adven was quiet as they trudged downhill, seeming lost in his own thoughts. For the first time, his silence felt easy instead of angry.

“Should be back in time for dinner.” He glanced at her with an unreadable expression.

Why had he decided to walk with her? He’d stayed as far from Mayten as he could ever since leaving their village.

Behind them, Nan and the prince—Mayten had a difficult time calling him ‘Tom’—were deep in conversation.

Adven opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. “So,” he stopped, cleared his throat. “You know . . . about your mother and me.”

“Yes.” She remembered how he’d run into the woods and been hurt by the bear.

They walked in awkward silence. Now she knew why he’d been so hurtful, but what could she do to change that?

“It wasn’t just your mother,” he finally said. “I’ve never talked about it, but . . . my mother was a singer.”

“What?” Mayten stared at him in amazement.

He nodded, keeping his gaze on the trail. “She left us when I was a boy. Took off with a sailor and left us to fend for ourselves with a da who favored the drink.”

Tray’s grandparents, Mayten realized. Tray never talked about his grandparents much. Now she knew why.

“No wonder you don’t like me,” she finally said.

“It’s not you,” Adven said. “I just told you—it’s me. I’m sorry I was such a bear.”

The birds chirped high above them while squirrels chattered noisily, chasing each other from tree to tree. Anatolian chased anything that moved.

She bumped him with her elbow. “Hey, you could have been my da!”

He gave her a look of disgust, stepping away in shock.

“Never!” he barked, but Mayten saw the corner of his mouth lift just a bit.

They walked a bit further, then he looked at her, his eyes glimmering. “Thank you for giving Hunter a last thanks-giving. He was at peace after you left. I . . . gave him some herbs . . . and waited until he, he . . . fell asleep. He didn’t wake up.”

She took his arm as they walked and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m glad you were with him.”

They continued to walk in companionable silence.

“You should forgive your ma, ya know?” he surprised her by saying. “It wasn’t her fault you had to come. I told Solis that I wouldn’t lead the quest if your