Tree Singer by Jacci Turner (best novels for beginners TXT) 📕

hurt. She put her hand on Mayten’s shoulder and leaned close. “Aye-aye, Captain.”

Mayten smiled, grateful to have at least one person who understood. She pulled Wollemi’s star rock from her pocket and rubbed it between her fingers, knowing he slept under the same stars.

Was he thinking of her while he gazed at his stars?

She looked at the stars, missing her little brother so much it hurt. “I love you, Wollemi,” she whispered. “I wish I was home with you.”

~ * ~

Their days fell into a pattern. They rose early, ate leftovers from the night before—and walked. They ate a lot of meat, which was unusual for Mayten. Her family ate an abundance of vegetables, nuts, and fruit, saving meat for special occasions.

Every day their group walked until Mayten thought she would drop. Most of the time, the men stayed ahead, followed by Mayten and Cather. Sometimes Adven would stop, sniff at the air, and bend to look at the ground before continuing.

Sometimes Tray or Hunter would drop back to talk. Mayten enjoyed chatting with Hunter. He always seemed the perfect contrast to Adven’s surly disposition. How on earth had the two ever become friends?

The woodsman had no end of stories to tell, making time pass more quickly. He seemed to enjoy spending time with Mayten, spinning stories about her sisters Mayten had never heard.

Anatolian roamed around the group as they traveled. The big dog had no trouble keeping himself fed on ground squirrels and other small creatures he flushed from the bushes and trees.

Hunter not only brought in meat for their supper, he knew which plants were good to eat, digging mushrooms and roots to add to whatever game filled the small pot he carried in his pack. Mayten often joined him in his search for greens, putting some of her lesser training to use.

After dinner and storytelling, they went to sleep early and slept hard.

She had little time to listen to the trees.

On their fourth day away from home the weather turned warm, leaving Mayten’s skin sticky and moist. The forest of spruce, fir, and pine trees was filled with a musky odor and rang with birdsong, seeming magical in the dusky morning light. The path squished under her boots, feeling more like wet cloth than dirt.

Anatolian didn’t seem inclined to stray in the damp heat, trotting along with his tongue lolling out one side of his mouth.

Tray dropped back and walked quietly beside Anatolian. Mayten gave him a welcoming smile. She always enjoyed talking with her friend. She missed him. He also knew more about what was happening than the girls did. Cather was ahead talking to Hunter so Mayten had Tray to herself for a change.

“Any idea how far we are from the king’s castle?” she asked.

Tray shrugged. “Adven says we should be there within three days if all goes well.”

Mayten felt as though a tree had been lifted off her shoulders. Finally—an end to all this walking. She glanced at her friend and cleared her throat. There was something that had been niggling at the back of her mind and he might be able to help.

“Do you remember that first night when Hunter told us that story about the bear?”

“Yeah.”

“He said something I’ve been puzzling about. When the bear hit him and he thought he was going to die or be badly hurt, he said, ‘Adven would have had to do his duty by me.’ What did he mean?”

Tray fell silent as they walked. “You know how each calling has codes,” he finally said. “Rules of behavior that are important for the safety of the members.”

Mayten nodded. Singers had to be aware of their surroundings. There were hazards to be avoided in the trees and bushes, like snakes or certain spiders or poisonous frogs. Singers were trained to watch out for those as well as plants that could sting or cause rashes.

Tray smiled at her. Then his smile faded. “Questers also have a code. About extreme situations. If someone gets hurt—really, really hurt, not just a little—and that person won’t be able to continue the quest . . . if there is no way to get that person home . . . we won’t leave them to die alone.”

“So you stay with them out here in the forest,” Mayten said, her voice disbelieving. “Until they die?”

She couldn’t . . . wouldn’t . . . believe it. No one would just let a friend die.

“Not exactly,” Tray said. He sounded . . . uncertain. “It’s part of a Questor’s code. We can’t delay the quest for more than two days, and it’s dangerous for anyone to be left alone when the one who’s hurt dies, so . . .”

“I don’t understand,” Mayten said. She struggled with Tray’s words. If you couldn’t help a person who was dying . . .

Ice water ran down her spine.

“You kill them?” she shouted.

“Shhh,” Tray cautioned. “We’re not supposed to talk about it, and I don’t think it happens very often. But you have to understand—it’s our duty to help the person pass easily.”

“What do you mean ‘easily’?” Mayten felt her throat tighten. What if that someone was Tray or Cather? How could she help them die?

“There are ways. It’s part of our training.”

As if that made everything clear as water in spring.

They walked in silence for a long time, each lost in their own thoughts.

Did other callings have those kinds of secrets?

Chapter Twelve

The next day, the weather took a definite turn. Wind whipped the tops of the pines and icy air bit into Mayten’s skin. Mayten quickly rolled her blanket and repacked her things, shivering as she shouldered her pack and joined the others. Cather looked as cold as Mayten felt as they pulled on tightly knitted woolen rain ponchos and caps.

Only Anatolian and Adven seemed unaffected by the weather change. The grin on Anatolian’s furry face made Mayten’s heart a little lighter.

A light mist fell, bringing the colors of the forest alive as the summer’s dust washed away.

She didn’t know the name of the trees covered completely in lime green moss. She thought of