Rootbound

“Why did you down my familiars? Who are you?”

He said nothing to my questions, just watched me as the feeling of Spirit on my skin intensified and I stood, shaking and quivering under it. Wanting more of it, the feeling of Spirit tamed and soothing, the sensation of it lighting up my skin with the faint prickle of electricity.

The flush of desire spread across my skin and I took a step toward him, wanting more of what he offered without a single word. Wanting the peace that exuded from him.

One step and I froze, my own connection to Spirit rising in me, wiping out the control he rolled over me.

What the hell was I thinking? Only moments before all I could think about was Ash, and now this stranger showed up and . . . manipulated me with Spirit. Goose shit, there wasn’t even a line of power on his arms. How was he hiding what he did from me?

“You bastard.”

He gave me a soft smile, winked, and turned away, seemingly stepping into the thick vines, disappearing without so much as a single damn word.

At my feet, Peta stirred, giving a jaw-cracking yawn. “What happened?”

“Someone . . . knocked you out with Spirit. You and Shazer.”

The Pegasus snorted and rubbed his muzzle on the short grass. “Two more minutes, Mom, I’m tired.”

I rolled my eyes and started out of the graveyard, only to be stopped by the sight of Red flying through the trees, trailing my father behind him.

“Lark, you must do something,” My father called to me, hurrying as fast as he could.

I raised my eyebrows at Red and he slowed as he dropped to my shoulder. “As soon as we left, he started mumbling about the truth, about it being lost, the world twisted by Cassava. Not that those are anything new.”

My father drew close to me, his eyes intense. “I remembered what I needed to tell you.”

I held a hand out to him. “Tell me then.”

He batted my hand away. “Listen to me. Listen to me. Your man was not in the grave.”

“No, he wasn’t.”

He leaned in close, dark green eyes wide. “He is not the only one you love who does not rest in a grave.”

CHAPTER 6

hat was I to say to that? “Father, I do not doubt you mean well, but—”

“Of course you don’t believe me, but that is fine. You’ll see. Come, come to the graves again. I feel them in the earth, all those I’ve lost. It is a talent I have. But one is missing and I wasn’t supposed to remember, and now when you put your hands on me things have come back, a little more, a little more.” He rambled as he hurried into the graveyard, pushing me aside in his need to show the truth as he saw it.

I followed him to my mother’s grave. My whole body stiffened at the implication. He took my hand and pressed it downward. “What do you feel, deep in the earth?”

Shaking, I did as he asked and delved with Spirit and Earth, feeling the body deep within. A hint of who she’d been flowed up to me and I wondered if it was because she’d carried Spirit too.

“You feel her, don’t you? Hear her sing to you,” he whispered. “I hear her call to me. My time to be with her again is soon.”

He grabbed my hand and tugged me to the side. “Now, your brother.”

I closed my eyes, not in concentration, but because I did not want to feel my little brother. How many years had I dreamt of his death, how many years had I blamed myself for not saving him?

“I don’t—”

“Do it, Lark.” His command was that of the king I’d known, and I was delving into the earth without another thought, acting before I realized it. Deeper and deeper I went, past the depth of most burials, and then more. My eyes flew open as my power spiked, and Spirit went wild within the earth. The graves around me lit up, a perfect layout of every Terraling ever buried. I felt them against my skin, Spirit opening to me in a way I’d never experienced. But my father was right.

“He’s not here,” I breathed.

“I know. I know he isn’t, but I wasn’t supposed to know. I wasn’t supposed to remember. Why, why isn’t he here, Lark?”

I swayed where I was. “Is he . . . alive?”

Mother goddess have mercy, all these years and I’d never once doubted Bramley’s death. How easy would it have been for Cassava to manipulate my mind, to make me see Bramley dead? But that didn’t make sense. He’d been her target all along as the heir to the throne. She even admitted it.

Yet her words, the last time we’d battled, came back to me. She’d implied he wasn’t dead and I’d chalked it up to her wanting to hurt me. To taunt me with a reality that wasn’t possible.

Now I wasn’t so sure.

I drew Spirit back to me, damping it down without thought. It went easier than before. Perhaps my grief kept it from being wild.

“I don’t know,” Basileus whispered. “I don’t know. I just know he isn’t here. Will you find him, Lark?”

Shaking, I stood and held my hand out to him, pushing all the questions to the back of my mind. “Come, back to the Spiral with you.”

Red fluttered down from the edge of the graveyard vines. “I’ll take him. He’ll go now that he’s said his piece.”

My father touched my face, and his eyes cleared. “I don’t know where he is, Lark. But if he’s alive, he needs you.”

He dropped his hand, turned, and shuffled away again. I watched him go, my heart hammering, emotions tangling in my throat and belly like a writhing cauldron.