Emberhawk - Jamie Foley Page 0,75

d’hakka stinger against her thumb. “Do you have to wear that mask?”

“Hmm?” Ryon looked at her, but she didn’t meet his gaze. “No. Not until we get to Jadenvive, at least.” His shoulder nipped with a pinch of pain as he reached back and untied the ribbons behind his head. “Does it bother you?”

Kira stared at the stinger, then quickly stuffed it back in her pack. “You were wearing it the first time I met you.”

Blurred memories of terror and agony resurfaced in Ryon’s mind. After Kira had shot him and followed him into the forest, he’d grabbed her and nearly gutted her. Oh. Right. It probably didn’t help that the mask’s fanged scowl was designed to instill fear. He slipped it quietly into his bag.

River stones grew into boulders as they walked, creating violent rapids in the Mossu beside them. An outcropping blocked their path on the bank, so Ryon steered them into the forest. Brush and undergrowth became sparse, creating a beautiful open space between tree trunks that grew taller and thicker with each passing step.

A sense of power pressed stronger and stronger on Ryon’s mind. He paused and focused, breathing in the clear air as if he could smell the large concentration of Phoera energy that approached.

“What is it?” Kira whispered.

“A trai’yeth,”Ryon said. He squinted into the direction he felt the power originating. What would it be this time? A trace cat? A bird? Or the same snarky little fox?

“A what?”

“A lesser elemental. Felix.” Ryon felt his shoulders slump. It’s about time.

The figure of a woman emerged through the trunks. Her flowing dress of pure silver gleamed more like metal than cloth. A crown twisted into tall spires atop her head, making her appear taller and her stature more regal.

Ryon stared in disbelief. Is that . . . the queen?

No, it couldn’t be his aunt, even though it looked just like her: pale Valinorian skin, long black hair flitting on an invisible breeze, and soft wrinkles from years of empathy, kindness, and comfort.

But her eyes blazed orange like an angry sun—far too bright and wild to be human.

“Idryon.” The corners of the woman’s full ruby lips lifted as she approached. “What a pleasure it is to see you again.”

Ryon’s voice died in his throat. This creature was definitely a trai’yeth elemental—its presence warmed his senses with dizzying power. So why did it look like a human? Since when could elementals take human form?

“Felix?” Kira asked.

The woman’s smile hardened into a thin line. “I am Queen Deirdre of the Emberhawk.” Her fiery eyes flicked down Kira’s form. “And who are you?”

“You’re not Deirdre.” Ryon’s voice cracked. “The queen would never go strolling through the forest without her guards. Especially in Katrosi territory.”

“Then let’s play a guessing game.” Her voice was smooth and sweet as honey, just like Deirdre’s from his childhood memories. Except his aunt had rarely used that dangerous tone.

Ryon’s gut twisted. This clearly wasn’t Felix, and there was only one other trai’yeth he knew of in tribal lands. “Zamara. Who’s on the throne while you frolic around?”

Her gaze picked him apart like a piece of meat on a butcher’s hook. “Illiana is being groomed as my heir. You’d know that if you ever took the time to visit.”

Nausea roiled in Ryon’s gut. “What have you done to the queen?”

Zamara chuckled. “I am the queen, of course.”

Ryon gripped the hilt of his dagger. “What have you done to Deirdre?”

Zamara glanced at Kira, who looked just as stunned as Ryon felt. “She passed away years ago. So sad.” She looked at her fingernails, and they painted themselves silver and grew longer, into slender peaks. “I took her form to prevent the crown from falling to an invalid and the tribe from descending into chaos. You understand.”

Rage rumbled in Ryon’s chest like the distant peal of thunder. His aunt was . . . dead?

Childhood memories floated to the surface, vivid and thick with emotion. Despite her duties as queen, Deirdre had made a point to be a mother to her children, and her niece and nephew. Empathetic. Kind. Regal. Humble. And respected by all.

Yes, the mourning had changed her when her husband passed. But she certainly never would have referred to her own son as an invalid.

So this is why she changed—Zamara killed her and replaced her. The hilt of Ryon’s dagger slicked with sweat in his hand. When did she do it? Before I left? After the king died? Or did she murder the king too?

Lysander was right.