were adir trees in the forest, I would still need to gather them, clean them, grind them, and powder them. The process could take days.
Was adiri extract the answer to Addie’s worries? Could it help her deliver the baby safely while not poisoning her in the process? It was already a risky pregnancy.
But maybe it could help.
My mokkira had told me the story of it, after all, though it was only a rumor that he had heard from another healer, who’d heard it from a healer who had delivered a hybrid child nearly thirty years ago. The first hybrid child on Dakkar, though not many knew about her. A child who would be around my age, if she still lived, wherever she was, whoever she was.
“I’ll be back later,” I told Essir.
“Where are you going?” he asked in slight alarm.
I remembered, briefly, his frazzled state when I’d first arrived at the horde. How relieved he’d looked when I stepped in. And I knew that he still had many years of training ahead of him. He wouldn’t be ready to be a mokkira in a few short moon cycles. How had I ever believed differently when it had taken me nearly ten years of constant study?
Giving him a small, hopefully comforting smile, I reached for my blade I kept tucked in the cabinet and then swung my heavy furs around my shoulders.
“I have to go find something,” I told him.
Chapter Forty-One
This might be incredibly foolish, I acknowledged as I stepped into the forest.
Kiran would be furious when he found out. Because he would find out upon his return and if I thought he wouldn’t, that would make me incredibly naive.
The only reason I felt a little less fearful was that the guard that Kiran had assigned to me—ever since I’d arrived at the horde—had trailed me. And this time he didn’t bother to keep his presence a secret. I heard his crunching footsteps behind me.
“Mokkira,” he said quietly, his voice echoing in the quiet, still forest. Ice hung off deadened branches in long shards and the ground crunched underneath me. Just a few nights ago, as I rode Kiran on the edge of the lake, the boughs had been dry and clear. “The Vorakkar would not like you away from—”
“Lysi, I know,” I called back.
“Hanniva,” he called out. “Let us return to the horde. When he returns, he can escort you here himself if you need to find whatever it is you’re looking for.”
He sounded fearful. Not of the forest, but of Kiran. Of his wrath, perhaps, if anything happened to me under the darukkar’s watch.
“It cannot wait until then,” I replied simply, hurrying forward. “I’ll be quick. I’ll be even quicker if you can tell me if there are adir trees in this forest.”
Behind me, I heard the darukkar say, “Adir trees?”
I sighed.
“Are you from the south lands?” I asked.
“Nik,” he replied. “I was raised in a saruk in the north. Then I lived in Dothik.”
That explained it then.
“They are different trees than these,” I pointed out. “More blue in color. The trunks, I mean. And they grow taller, though they tend to grow in the denser areas of a forest. You won’t find them near the outskirts.”
“You will not return to the horde until you find these trees?” the darukkar asked, his tone resigned.
“Nik, I will not. I need to find one.”
A deep huff came from the darukkar. “Then we better hurry. Because if the Vorakkar finds you gone and outside the gates, he will banish me and send me back to Dothik without hesitation.”
“Nik, he won’t,” I told him. “I promise.”
It seemed like we trekked through the icy forests for days, but in reality, it was only a portion of the late afternoon. Though the skies were dark and overcast with heavy, smoky clouds, it was still early enough in the evening to allow us more time to search before we were forced to turn back.
“Mokkira,” the darukkar called after another stretch of time.
And I knew what he was going to say.
That we couldn’t remain in the forest past dark and we were beginning to lose the light quickly, especially this deep in the forest.
“If we don’t turn back now, we won’t reach the horde until long after dark,” he said. “Hanniva. We can return in the morning.”
I knew he was right.
But somehow, I knew that we needed to keep going. That we were close. I swore I spied a deadened adir sapling not too long ago, but