Page 181 of Kingdom of the Two Moons

“More,”he whispers just like that night in the throne room. And gods help me, but heat flushes my entire system, pooling in my core.“Imagine pulling back layers and see what comes up.”

I do and—startle. “Something sweet, like fruit. Salt—no, sweat.” I open my eyes and look at him over my shoulder.

He just asks, his clarion eyes on me, “What kind of sweat?”

I try again. “Not elf. More… tart. Smoky maybe, as if they’re sitting close to a fire. And something like a river, wet stones, and algae.”

I’m surprised by what I’ve just said. Maybe it’s utter nonsense, but Caryan looks down at me and says, “Good. That river smell is typical of nymphs and sirens. The campfire smell is dryads. Nymphs would never go close to a fire, neither would sirens, but dryads cook over blue fire. The tartness tells you that they’re tense, so does the salt. They’re excited, sweating.” He looks toward the trees as if he knows that the people behind them can hear every word he’s said.

Then his gaze comes back to me. “You have to train your senses. It can be vital,” is all I get before he walks on, and I have to jog to catch up to him.

“Who are they?”

“The folk of the Emerald Forest. Dryads and fauns, a lot of other creatures too,” he says, his amber eyes trained on the path ahead again, as if he expects a trap somewhere.

Darkness falls suddenly, like a curtain, the sun no longer blinking through the high canopy, right as we reach a small, milky brook, glistening in the twilight.

“We will spend the night here,” Caryan declares.

Kyrith still doesn’t seem to feel comfortable, but Ronin is content enough to sit down with his back against a tree, stretching out his long legs, allowing a sigh to escape from his throat. Only then do I realize that none of them has slept.

My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven’t eaten a thing in hours. I ignore it and choose a mossy spot to curl up, turning away from the others.

55

Melody

I wake up with small, cool, sticky fingers in my hair, on my face, and on the bare skin of my arms. Huge, round turquoise eyes blink back at me before a slick finger wanders against my lips. Behind this creature—female, I think—another one squats, gesturing for me to get up. Then those bluish and webbed hands grab mine and guide me along the brook, along another path that must have just opened up because it wasn’t there when I fell asleep.

When I cast a glance back, I see all three of the fae lords sleeping so soundly, not one stirs. I wonder whether the forest emanates some magic to make them sleep so deeply. My eyes rest on Caryan a moment too long. But seeing him so unguarded…

They tug at my sleeves and usher me on.

As soon as we are far enough away, the tiny little women start to giggle and pull me, more impatiently now, up to a clearing in the forest, where white moonlight meets the shimmering surface of a steaming pool.

The creatures dig at my clothes like Nidaw’s sirens, and I allow them to undress me and lead me into the water. The women or not-women—I’m not too sure since they don’t look too human—are naked themselves and seemingly unbothered by it. They reach almost up to my hips, but their bodies look like mine, with breasts and bellies, only their lower part is sleek like a frog’s, and small,round horns sprout out of their heads. Their eyes are larger, too, their lips full, and rows of tiny, sharp siren teeth shine at me when they smile.

When I glance up, I meet more eyes gleaming green in the dark. Emerald-skinned women my size, with hair in all sorts of impossible colors and graceful gazelle horns sprouting from the midst of it, step out, pearls and twigs braided into the strands. They’re also naked, save for bows and arrows around their backs.

They glare at me curiously and bow when a pale woman steps out of the dark after them. She has long, wavy, white hair that falls around her lush, curvaceous body, reaching down to her ankles. She glides into the water so she sits opposite me, her hair floating like white seaweed in the stream, matching the strange whiteness of her eyes.

White horns spiraling like those of a kudu, but only half the length, protrude from her head, beautifully curved and coming to a sharp end. A circlet of gold, wild vines, peonies, and pearls rests around them, completing a regal and frightening image.

“Soak yourself. This is healing water from the holy springs. It will wash away a lot of things. It will also leave you rested and well.” Her voice is clear as a bell, her words tinged by the slightest hint of a hiss. “I’m Calianthe, queen of the Emerald Forest,” she explains before I can thank her or ask who she is. “And those are my daughters.”

She gestures to the green-skinned women, some of whom have brought food and a goblet made of stone that holds some water with herbs in it, which they lay gently next to me on a flat stone.

“Eat,” the queen orders.

I’m too hungry and thirsty to care whether I’m being rude, so I grab the goblet and down it, then take a fruit similar to a fig, the flesh so ripe and sweet it drips over my chin like honey when I take a bite.

I swallow, then ask, “Why are you so kind to me?”

“Your soul is tied to someone dear to me.Your paths will cross.”

“Who?” I ask carefully, not sure what to do with this information.

Calianthe glides closer to me, so close her long hair brushes against me underwater like smooth, slick tendrils of kelp. “She was the one who changed the course of fate, Melody. You should have been her daughter. A daughter of light as you are.”

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