Page 179 of Kingdom of the Two Moons

I can’t detect a way in.

Caryan strides ahead unperturbed, his dark hair whipping in the wind as he steps up to the towering tree line. My eyes widen as some of the highest, oldest trees start to bend slightly as if they’re bowing to him. I watch spellbound as Caryan stretches out his pale arm, palms open toward those trees like an offering, and a silver flame springs from his hand.

A spark ofmymagic.My flame.I can feel it even from a distance. I remember how his eyes shone silvery the other night as my magic ran through him and his through me. Something he took from me, I can feel it. I can’t help the sting of betrayal.

“The light of the moon and the stars. We do remember that light from a time where only ageless darkness ruled.” An echoing, eerie voice calls from the forest, booming over the meadow, as if the whole forest is speaking together as one, a sound of power and knowledge thundering over us.

“Then you do remember what vow is bound to that light and bend to it,” Caryan answers, his voice strangely magnified so it, too, echoes over the canopy.

The two massive trees bend further down, their barks creaking. I suck in a sharp breath as their branches become like massive whips, ready to be unleashed.

Caryan doesn’t retreat an inch. Unfazed. Unruffled.

“We cannot say we welcome your sight, angel,” the forest’s voice booms again, shaking so menacingly that all the birds disappear and even the wind falls quiet.

“The sentiment is mutual, yet here we are, and I once again remind you of the vow you once took.”

“Notto you, Lord of Darkness.”

“I am here… and the one who carries the light.” Caryan’s voice has gained an edge.

The forest’s voice sounds once more. “Then tell us, dark angel—are you here as a wanderer of the worlds or as a destroyer of the worlds?”

Destroyer of the worlds.The words reverberate along my body, followed by another rumble of that strange power the forest seems to hold, as if it wants to brush up against Caryan’s own. A threat, I realize. The forest isafraid.

My heart stutters when Caryan says, “That depends entirely on your answer. I demand free passage. Grant me it, and you can rest assured that I mean no harm.”

“Tell us one more thing—what is it that you desire, angel?”

The sound of Caryan’s chuckle runs over my skin like ice-water. An eerie sound, cold and arctic. “Oh, at least one thing jumps to mind.”

One thing.Only then do I remember that fae can’t lie and that this is probably just a clever way to avoid an honest answer. A dark part of me wonders what he’s hiding, what he would have said.

“And will you find it in my forest?” the voice demands.

“I don’t think so. But enough of this. I ask one last time for leave to pass to the Silver Mountains and then back. For me and my party.” Caryan’s voice is somber again and ancient, like the forest itself.

“Your party…” the trees echo. Wind comes up, brushing over us. “Ronin the Witcher and Kyrith, the white mountain lion of Palisandre. You will also be allowed to pass freely if you mean no harm.” This time the threat in the forest’s voice is unmistakable before it dies, only to start anew. “And you—daughter of light and silvery blood, queen of the Kingdom of Two Moons.” I swear the gush of wind turns into a gentle breeze that runs through my hair. “We have long yearned to meet you.”

Queen?Of the Kingdom of the Two Moons—Caryan’s kingdom.

I flinch. That must be a mistake.

Ronin and Kyrith turn to me, genuine surprise and confusionshining on their faces, their gazes darting from me to Caryan. Caryan has turned too, his eyes that gleaming amber as he watches me, and unreadable. But he doesn’t say anything, so I swallow and say quickly, “I’m no queen.”

“Come to me,” is all the forest retorts, and a sudden gust of wind pushes me forward.

I walk closer to the edge, to where Caryan stands, careful not to look at him again. The largest and oldest of the trees bends down, one huge branch dangling closer, as if to reach out. When I stretch out my hand, it brushes ever so gently against it—a rustle of velvety foliage against my skin before the massive tree straightens up again. My heart races.

“Remember through shadows and darkness we grow,” the forest says, “reaching light through the long night.” A final warning.

I gasp as all the trees step aside then, opening a passage between thick columns of silvery bark. I feel Caryan still watching me as he steps forward. I follow after him.

As soon as we enter, the exotic sing-song of birds and frogs envelops us, louder and clearer inside, as if the trees and high canopy contain the jungle’s heart melody. We walk on over plush, soft, mossy ground where breathtaking fluorescent flowers bloom.

Caryan doesn’t seem to pay any attention to the beauty around us, and I can’t shake off the feeling that he’s been here before. He’s old, he said. So old.Angel—destroyer of worlds. The forest was afraid that Caryan had come to harm it.

I watch his strong back under his black shirt, the way he moves so soundlessly and elegantly through the humid thicket. The way the light filters through the leaves and touches his hair, turning it into liquid night.

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