was a softer, paler white. Both of them were different from Amon, whose skin had gleamed an almost buttery gold. I wondered if the variance had something to do with their powers or the celestial bodies they represented.
Then I remembered the token Horus had given me. He’d said the stone would not only heal me but would also help me right myself. Upon cupping the stone in my hand, everything shifted. My body moved in the water as if an unseen force were pulling me. The three of us began moving, but not under our own power; it was the water. Just as the three of us united, it rushed around us so forcefully I had to close my eyes.
I could barely see Asten or Ahmose through the cloud of my hair, but their gleaming auras still lit the surrounding water, so I knew they were close. Daylight beckoned us upward, and just when I could no longer hold my breath, we broke the surface.
Tia? I tried to reach out to her, but she’d been silent since our fight. I mentally searched for her but couldn’t sense her presence. I realized then that it had become increasingly difficult to find her when she didn’t want to be found.
My worries over Tia had to take second place, though. The first thing we needed to do was get the salve from the tree to save Asten. We just had to figure out which tree in the forest was the mother tree. Scrambling to shore, I stood up, vigorously shaking my body to get the excess water off and wringing out my hair, feeling disgusted that I’d kept it so long. I knew should shave it off or, at the very least, cut it. It was a mess, and the long strands were getting in the way.
Tossing it over my shoulder, I immediately checked all the weapons, dumping at least a gallon of water from the quiver of arrows. Crouching down to Asten, I pressed a hand against his brow. His skin was cold; I wasn’t sure if that was natural for him in the netherworld or if he was truly close to death. “We’ll find the cure,” I whispered. “And this misery you feel will float away like the passing water of a deep river.” I frowned. When did I become so poetic? I was rewarded for my eloquence, however, as Asten took my hand, gifting me with a soft smile that deepened the cleft in his chin. I returned his smile but then shook my head slightly and withdrew my hand. “Ahmose, we’ve got to find the mother tree.”
“I’ll go,” he volunteered. “You should stay with Asten.”
“No. You’d better let me. This forest is the same one I traveled to in my dreams”—I glanced down at Asten, whose eyes were openly watching me, studying me—“with Amon,” I finished. And something about saying his name out loud made me feel guilty.
Asten turned his head. “Let her go,” he said quietly to Ahmose. “But if you’re not back in a few hours, we’re coming to find you.”
I nodded in agreement, though I knew Asten wouldn’t be moving from his current position anytime soon. He was no longer looking in my direction regardless. “A few hours, then.” Rising, I headed off into the forest, memorizing the scents that would guide me back to the place I’d left them.
Skirting the wide pool, I scanned the surrounding trees, wondering what a mother tree looked like. I imagined it to be the oldest tree in the forest, and the trees near our camp were at most ten years old, at least by my way of reckoning the flora at home. Also, the leaves on the younger trees were a brighter blue.
Knowing I needed to find an older section, I headed west, looking for the darkest patches. My footfalls were soft, nearly silent, as I moved across the springy moss that grew in blue-green tufts. Muskier scents of age and death alerted me that I was going in the right direction.
The forest was eerily quiet. The normal buzz of insects or the chirping song of birds was missing. Larger animals hid in the bushes. I could hear them shifting uncomfortably at my presence, but the stench of ammonia clung to them, making them entirely inedible.
Twice I caught the scent of something that made my mouth water, and when I paused for just a moment or two, I got lucky enough to snare one of them. Quickly, I tossed