Tree Singer

mother was giving birth and refused to cry out in pain. Her da had tears streaming down his face, as did the twins and Taiwania.
Taiwania, crying for her?
Oleaster’s jaw looked like granite, but his eyes shone as he looked up at her. Only little Wollemi gazed at her with unabashed joy.
A low murmur rose as the crowd shifted restlessly. Solis raised her hands for silence.
“I know you are wondering,” she began, “why a tree singer has been called to go on a quest and why choose three so young?”
“Yes, why?” someone shouted.
Mayten’s hand started to raise on its own. She had to interrupt Solis, had to tell her she would most definitely not be going on this quest—
“It is through our oldest and most gifted tree singer, Castanea,” Solis said, gesturing at Mayten’s mother, “that we became aware of the blight attacking our land. The trees have been our most reliable messengers and will, I dare say, continue to be so. Therefore, a tree singer is needed on this quest. Although Castanea was eager to join the quest, the council has decided against it. We need her leadership here at this time. She has nominated her daughter Mayten to take her place.”
Mayten stared down at her mother in shock. She didn’t know what made her angrier, that her mother had volunteered to leave them and go off on some quest, leaving her family—with Mayten caring for the babies, no doubt—or that her mother had suggested Mayten go in her place.
Their gazes locked. Her mother was trying to communicate something. “Don’t let me down? Don’t embarrass me? Don’t make them regret my decision?”
Mayten clenched her jaw until it ached. She couldn’t go. She didn’t know how to help. She only knew how to sing three of the seven levels.
But she would not let her mother see her knees shaking.
She breathed in slowly through her nostrils and shifted her gaze back to Solis.
“All our experienced questing teams are out gathering information about the blight. These three initiates come from families with excellent gifts in their callings. All three have completed their first three years of training with excellent marks. And, just as importantly, have been friends since birth. They know each other. They trust each other, which is a quality that can take questing teams years to develop.”
It felt strange to realize she had been discussed by the council. But not as strange as Solis’s next words.
“The king himself has requested our help—immediately.”
Again, the crowd shifted and muttered. Mayten glanced at her friends who looked as worried as she felt.
Had the king ever requested the help of her clan before? Of any clans? Yes, he relied on their tribute and in exchange provided protection, laws, and order, but to ask for help . . . to personally request help?
It chilled her bones to think their kingdom—which had always been strong and safe—had somehow become vulnerable.
A shudder ran down her back as she suddenly understood why the twins had trekked all that way.
They had come to say goodbye.
Everything tumbled into place—her father’s sadness and her mother’s avoidance. They’d known.
And hadn’t told her.
The clan leader raised her hands once again and silence fell. “To offset the team’s inexperience, the quest will be led by Adven himself.”
Mayten straightened in disbelief as Tray’s uncle, scruffier than ever, bowed to the clan leader.
The crowd cheered as Mayten groaned under her breath.
Solis gracefully inclined her head, acknowledging Adven’s bow. “He has, at my request, returned prematurely from a different quest to the south and assures me he is eager to serve this call. We thank you, Adven,” she said, inclining her head once again.
“We thank you, Adven,” the crowd echoed, the words growing to a roar.
Mayten’s stomach squeezed tight, feeling as though someone had punched her. This couldn’t be happening. She began breathing through her nose as the warmth drained from her face. She would not faint. Not here in front of everyone.
Solis turned to the initiates. Mayten felt she might be sick as the leader’s deep brown eyes held her gaze for a long moment before shifting to Tray, then to Cather.
“What say you, Initiates?” Solis’s voice rang clear and strong. “Will you accept the call to this quest for your clan and for your king?”
Tray jumped forward in his excitement. “I will!”
A ripple of laughter went through the crowd.
Cather stood tall. “I will.” Her voice quavered but sounded resolute.
Silence stretched as the leader turned again to Mayten. Solis’s eyes were steel gray, she realized. Eyes that asked no question.
Only one answer would be acceptable to the clan leader . . .
And the rest of the clan.
Heat flushed Mayten’s face. What would happen if she said no? Her eyes flicked to her family. Her mother’s face was set, as if willing her to be strong. Her da and siblings brushed tears away.
But it was little Wollemi’s face that caused her to pause. His gaze held pure happiness and pride. In his eyes there was no greater honor for his sister than to be called a quester.
She glanced at Cather, who seemed to be pleading with her to say yes. Taking a steadying breath, Mayten straightened her shoulders. “I will.”
Her voice squeaked like a mouse, but it seemed enough for Solis. The clan leader raised her arms high and bowed toward them. “Thank you, Initiates.”
“Thank you, Initiates!” roared the clan, erupting into loud cheers and shouts.

Chapter Seven
Da’s gentle fingers pulled the plaits of Mayten’s braids tight as he twisted her curls up off her neck. It had been years since he had offered to braid her hair and she leaned into his hands, longing to cuddle up in his lap like she had when she was little.
Instead, she sat on a stool as her da stood over her, deftly braiding her hair in front of a large looking glass he had imported from Sapia.
They were in her parents’ bathing room, a room unique to their home. It had been Oleaster’s idea to use the irrigation system he’d invented, channeling water from