Page 93 of Wings of Lies
“Are you upset, Mommy?”
“Just—” She pushed a strand of my wavy hair behind my ear. “Confused.”
“Why?”
“No reason.” She stood, patting my bed. “Do you want to hear a poem, love? And when you’re older, I’ll tell you the story.”
I really wanted to eat my brownies, but a poem wouldn’t take too long. Nodding, I scurried underneath the covers, making sure not to lay on my pillow.
Mommy grabbed my hands, smiling, looking sad.
“There once was a daughter of seven circles, hidden, protected, avoiding the hurdles. There once was a palace of crystalized ice, awaiting the daughter to sacrifice. Unbalanced and sorrowful. Hopeless without tomorrow. There once was a world concealed from her, vibrant in color, awaiting a shudder. When the ice whispers. Be prepared for the fissures.”
“I don’t think I want to know the story when I’m older,” I said.
“It’ll stay a story, baby. But only if you promise Mommy something?”
I nodded.
“When you feel the little pricks, before they really hurt, I need you to come to me. I’ll take away the pain, so the poem never comes true. Can you do that?” She rubbed my arm.
And I smiled, nodding, until her warm hand tingled.
“Mommy—”
My eyes jerked open.Aspen gripped my arm.
“You were sliding out of your seat,” he said, only half his attention on me, letting go.
I reached up to my neck, rubbing the healed cut, surprised Brock didn’t add more while I let myself dream-walk. Except it wasn’t the memory I was looking for. I ended up with my mom, but not at the right time.How did I jump to the right memory?
Disoriented, I sat straighter, taking in my surroundings. I bobbed out of the way of a patch of dangling moss. The branch it hung on twisted into a dark canopy of entwining limbs, blocking the sun. Without its warmth, the damp air easily breached my jacket, prickling my skin. The aroma of decay filled the air, not like the earthy smell of leaves decaying, but more like the decay of spoiled meat.
“Where are we?”
“Drune Forest,” he answered, scanning the woods.
The forest Hana mentioned.
Spiders crawled up my spine as Aspen, who was most definitely scared of driving, willingly took his eyes off the road. The smell didn’t help. Neither did the shadows of the trees that moved when they should definitely not be moving.
“Are the Drunes out there?”
“Yes,” he whispered, gazing over my head.
Shadows interspersed between the trees flickered as if they heard him. My grogginess completely wore off.
“Will they attack?”
He narrowed his eyes. “They won’t.” But the arrogance that usually graced his words wasn’t there. And for once, I didn’t like that.
“But they could?”
“They won’t. I’ve sent Brock, Cacus, and Bael to talk to their leader for safe passage. They should be back soon.” That didn’t mean we had safe passage now. “Plus, they’re scared of me. Drune’s go for easy kills unless otherwise commanded, or they’re with a group.”
Ahh, there it was.
“And what if you’re an easy kill?” It wasn’t an admittance, but I wasn’t exactly a warrior.
