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

Nan directs the growth of these hedges with hedge trimmers, singers direct energy into the growth of the trees and plants, through our songs. But it’s more than that. We listen to them too. We form a . . . relationship with the trees.”

She’d never tried to explain her calling to someone who had no idea what she was talking about.

“I see.” The king plucked a large red star-shaped flower and handed it to Mayten. She smiled her thanks.

Da grew these, amaryllis. She tucked the flower into her braid behind her ear. He was quiet as he turned and led her further down the path.

After a few moments, he continued his story. “As I understand it, this singer found a way to take the energy from the plants instead of giving them energy—or encouraging the plants to grow as you described, though I’m not certain I quite understand.”

Once again, nausea churned Mayten’s stomach. Taking energy from a plant was unthinkable. The very idea made her want to vomit.

Every child, when they were first learning to sing, made the mistake of taking too much energy from a plant. Of course, the plant died—which was why children practiced on weeds. They were soundly chastised when that happened and made to watch. Feeling a plant die usually hurt enough to make the children more careful.

It was a dark and painful feeling, like all the joy had been sucked from the world, an experience not easily forgotten.

She couldn’t imagine a singer ever doing such a harmful thing on purpose, and Mother had never mentioned any such incident. Singers were connected to the earth in a healing way. That kind of destruction went against everything she had ever learned.

It wasn’t just wrong. It was evil.

“He became quite powerful,” the king continued, “but something about the experience of taking from the plants also twisted his mind.”

Was this the man the trees had shown to her? The man they had not forgiven?

“He began taking power from other living creatures. When he was found next to the dead body of my grandfather’s favorite dog, my great-grandfather exiled him from the kingdom, issuing a proclamation. Singers were no longer allowed in the castle. Unfortunately, he also forbade anyone from talking about the matter which, I’m sorry to say, has created some superstitions around singers here at Trigginsfeld.”

Mayten spotted a bench and hurried over to it, her knees collapsing as she felt cold stone press against her legs. She rested her head in her hands, willing the garden to stop spinning. This is why there was no telling of this story in the clan’s memory.

The king took her hand and patted it. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to distress you.”

“I . . . I just . . . need a minute.”

“I assure you, I have done my best to dispel that black mark on the reputation of singers. I’ve forbidden my staff to speak ill of singers and, as you can see, my children hold them in the highest esteem. A history of faithfulness does not need to be dismissed because of one dangerous man.”

Mayten nodded. She could not rid her mind of the image of his grandfather’s dog—a dog like Anatolian—lying dead on the ground.

She had never heard of anyone taking energy from an animal, not even an insect. The very idea made her skin crawl. Singers were healers of plants, not murderers.

“I wanted you to hear the story from me.” The king straightened, his face gone even more serious. “I also want to offer you a position at the castle when you have finished your training. I think enough time has passed. The edict against singers needs to be—and shall be—revoked.”

A shudder ran through Mayten’s body. She gulped for air, afraid she might faint right in front of the king.

Had he just said he wanted her to be the castle singer?

Yes, she’d thought about that very thing last night. But it had only been a daydream. How could she leave her family? They’d been gone barely two weeks and she’d spent half the time longing for home.

“As you can see,” the king continued, holding out a hand. Mayten took his warm fingers, willing herself to her feet. “The castle needs singers. It is my fervent hope you will come back and bring a younger singer or two with you. They should be trained here with at least one of my children. And of course, they should be trained by the best singer on the island.”

The best? She’d done nothing to prove herself yet. What if she just wanted to stay on the homestead as she’d dreamed before coming to the castle?

Could someone say no to a king?

She took a deep breath, trying to slow her heart. “Your Majesty, I am delighted that you want singers to be represented in the castle. Just now, I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed by the task set before me. Would it be okay if we see how this quest goes before I make any long-term plans?”

The king laughed, the twinkle returning to his eyes. He patted her arm. “That, my dear, was the most diplomatic way anyone has ever told me to slow down!”

The pressure around Mayten’s ribs eased. He didn’t seem angry at her suggestion.

“We will see how the quest goes. I have complete faith that you will figure out what is causing our current crisis. Now, let’s get back so you can pack. I’ve had all your clothes washed and they should be ready to wear.” He chuckled and shook his head as he led her back in through the kitchen. “I must tell you, however, that a king generally gets whatever a king wants.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Mayten and Cather stood in their room in the castle while Mayten packed for the quest. The king had said it would be a fact-finding trip and only take about a week, so she didn’t want to carry too much.

“I’m going to miss you.” Mayten sighed as Cather helped her pack. “And I only got a quick soak in that