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

“We’ll stop here,” Adven yelled.

“There’s a small lake about twenty minutes from here if I remember correctly,” the count called. “It would be nice to rest by the lake.”

To Mayten’s surprise, Adven looked at Rafe. The woodsman nodded and Adven continued up the trail.

Nan extended her lecture all the way to the lake. The count seemed fascinated, asking question after question about wood mites and beetles. Mayten’s mind wandered to the memories the ancient tree had given her. She sorted through them as best she could, trying to make sense of them all.

Her first sight of the lake took her breath away. The water was a clear emerald blue. Soft sandy banks and shimmering aspen trees lined the shore.

The woodlands had been changing ever since they left the canyon. Now they were surrounded by an alpine forest with fir and pine trees scenting the air with their tang. Mayten could almost taste the pine sap on her tongue. They must have climbed a thousand feet to find a forest like this one. She shivered and stopped to pull her jacket from her pack.

Had Mother ever traveled this far? She was certain her mother would love to see this. Thinking of Mother brought another image to mind—Mother’s little book. Mayten was anxious to talk to these new trees. She felt as though an answer was close at hand—

“Mayten,” Tom called to her. He and the count stood on the shoreline a few paces from the lake’s gently lapping waves. “Does Anatolian like the water? Is it okay if he goes in?”

“He loves it, and yes!” Anatolian would chase a stick into water for hours. It was one of his favorite things to do. He would be ecstatic to have someone play with him for a while.

The count handed the prince a small branch and he threw it. Anatolian bounded into the water before the stick splashed down, surging toward the floating wood with powerful strokes.

That would keep the prince and the count busy. Mayten picked up her pack, her jaw set in determination. She had some reading to do.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

As Adven and Nan set up the camp, Rafe went off to hunt. Mayten found a pine tree at the edge of the lake that was far enough from the others that she wouldn’t be disturbed yet close enough to watch Anatolian splash into the water as the prince threw the stick over and over. Count Monroe laughed and clapped, a happy audience of one.

Mayten inhaled the fresh pine scent and let her fingers play with the dirt and pine needles all around her. The little book lay in her lap, open to Level One: Cometh to the tree with humility and silence.

She’d practiced this level over and over until it became second nature.

She turned to Level Two: Putteth away childish concerns and press more deeply into listening with all of your senses.

In other words, learn everything you could about trees—taste, touch, smell—in order to listen in a deeper way. She’d incorporated this practice into her life on a daily basis as well.

She flipped to Level Three: You must confideth in the trees and grow to love them as trusted friends.

During this level, talking to the trees became normal. She loved this level. The trees were like her extended family and talking to them was natural.

She turned to Level Four: You must open your mind and heart to receiveth images from the tree celebrating your likeness and communion with the trees. These communications are pure gift.

This level was more mystical than the previous levels. She’d had trouble . . .

With a flash of pride, Mayten realized she’d been receiving messages from the trees without really trying. She thought about the tree that had comforted her after Hunter’s accident by sending peaceful images. The tree’s message had indeed felt like a gift.

. . . which brought her to Level Five: You must go deeper. Communeth with the trees, their roots, their animal messengers, and their relatives.

She had also experienced that level. She understood the trees’ connection to the greater island and possibly beyond.

She continued on through the book.

Level Six includes your ability to sendeth messages across this community of living things to others through your tree family. This is only possible with great trust and love.

She had managed to receive messages from her mother through the trees and had, hopefully, sent messages back.

Level Seven, when your heart is ready, when there is great love and trust, you may have an experience of unification in which you will lose yourself and blendeth into all things, becoming one with all.

She had not experienced Level Seven, the final level. Not yet. But she could easily send visual images to the tree and receive them. She didn’t understand what was meant by ‘unity with the trees.’ Her mother said many singers never got to that final stage.

“. . . have an experience of unification in which you will lose yourself and blendeth into all things . . .”

Whatever did that mean?

No matter. She was certain she had what she needed to discover what was hurting the trees. It was what came after she wasn’t sure about.

Finally, Mayten reached the section she wanted to reread. This section went into detail about the benefits and abuses of exchanging energy with the trees. The more she read, the more certain she became—someone was stealing energy from the trees.

That was why the trees had sent her a picture of a man from two hundred years ago.

There was another evil singer around.

Count Monroe had seemed sure that stealing energy was a common temptation for singers. Nan had said that infestations would leave traces behind.

There was no trace of anything wrong in the dead trees. Or in the dead animals.

Which led to one conclusion—someone had taken their life energy.

Mayten shuddered. She set the book in her lap and rubbed her arms, feeling a chill run through her. She turned to face the tree and pressed her hands to the bark. Perhaps her mother had