Emberhawk - Jamie Foley Page 0,80
vessel’ in the Ancient language.”
Kira chewed on the inside of her cheek as she mused. “So he chose you and Lysander because he trusts you?”
Ryon winced. “Yeah. Silverbloods—humans with more syn in their blood naturally—tend to be able to hold more syn. And silverbloods tend to be royals or nobles in the Emberhawk tribe, at least. Which is part of the problem.” Thunder rumbled, and he glanced up at the sky. “Aeo created trai’yeth to make sure people don’t become too powerful and go crazy evil with elemental abilities.”
Kira considered the rolling gray clouds. “But Zamara is also a trai’yeth, and she seemed along the lines of ‘crazy evil’ to me.”
“Yeah, she doesn’t really follow Aeo’s commands anymore.” Ryon’s voice was tight.
Well, what are Aeo’s commands? Does that mean Zamara doesn’t follow a moral code of some sort?
Unease squirmed in Kira’s gut. Neither of them wanted to talk about Zamara.
“You said Felix collects power,” Kira said. “Do you mean deposits of syn in the ground, like they mine for on Malaan Island?”
“Yeah, but it’s easier to take it from humans whenever he catches one in some criminal act. He’ll suck out their Phoera energy and give it to me or another one of his vessels.” Ryon adjusted the pack on his shoulder. “Or stash it somewhere safe.”
He seemed uncomfortable. Kira skipped a step to catch a glimpse of his expression, but she couldn’t read it. “So you must be a pretty powerful elementalist, huh?”
“No.” The sound of their footsteps plodded along until Ryon continued. “Well, yes, but I just don’t like to use Phoera. There’s a stigma that only Emberhawk do, yeah? So I don’t really practice much except invisibility.”
Kira snorted. “That’s stupid. There’s also a stigma that only Emberhawk have bright eyes, right? But can’t any tribesmen have bright eyes, anywhere from yellow to red to brown?”
“Yeah, but there’s a reason those stereotypes exist. They’re normally right.” Ryon took in a long breath and released it. “I don’t want to scare people in Jadenvive, but Felix makes it impossible by giving me enough Phoera to make my eyes explode.” His voice descended into a grumble, and she couldn’t make out his words.
So he’s judged every day of his life just because of his eyes.
“You should practice whatever you want, no matter what anyone thinks,” Kira declared. “As soon as anyone gets to know you, it’s clear that you’re nothing like the Emberhawk.”
A smile grew across Ryon’s lips. He tilted his head toward her, and his gaze warmed like a gentle hearth. “Thanks, balemba.”
Heat rose into Kira’s cheeks again, and warning flared across her mind like a falling star. She regretted her words as a sheepish grin forced itself onto her face. Don’t give him any ideas!
Kira snapped her attention to her feet. “Are we, um, almost to Jadenvive?”
Ryon blew past her in a flurry of leather. “Depends on how fast you are!”
Kira blinked in surprise, then noticed that the light ahead of them was brighter through the foliage. She jogged to catch up with Ryon and the forest opened up into a vast swath of countryside.
In the center of crop-bearing fields was a cluster of white-barked trees so tall that they dwarfed even those in the surrounding two-hundred-foot forest. A stone wall encircled the treetop city, and the land beyond was patterned with farms and ranches—one bearing some sort of long-necked herbivore that Kira had never seen before.
Kira’s breath faltered. She squinted at the city and found roofs sticking out from the leaves and platforms connecting the giant birch with rope bridges. A square platform descended through the layers until it disappeared behind the city walls.
She felt Ryon’s gaze on her. “Welcome to Jadenvive.”
Kira realized her mouth was hanging open. “This . . . I’d heard stories, but this . . . this is amazing.”
Ryon shrugged and started along a path that followed a field of long beans that climbed up stalks of corn. “Hope you’re not afraid of heights.”
“Oh, I’m not!” Kira skipped to catch up to him, her spirit soaring. She’d always wanted to live in a treehouse like the one her father had built for her and her brothers as children.
In her excitement, she almost blurted that she had a habit of climbing to escape the troubles of the world below. Kind of like she’d been doing on the barn roof when she’d shot Ryon. Probably not the best thing to bring up.
“I hope they have good food,” she said instead. As tasty as Waelyn’s pitas