Tree Singer

had decided that Tray would move on with Cather and Mayten in the morning. Adven would stay with Hunter.
The thought made her shudder but she would be glad to be away from Adven’s constant scowl.
She worked up her courage to ask a question that had been on her mind since Hunter’s accident. “Adven, we’ve not said any thanks-giving on this quest. I’d like to do so tonight if you don’t mind.”
The man looked like he might spit a curse at her but he glanced at Hunter and seemed to consider.
“Do what you will,” he growled and stood, disappearing into the trees.
Mayten pulled off her boots and socks, relishing the feel of cool soil beneath her feet. She kneeled on one side of Hunter, taking his hand. His arm felt odd, heavy. She couldn’t lift his arm as her family did when they were in a circle so she simply held his hand. She thought about taking off his shoes too, then realized he couldn’t feel the earth.
Cather pulled off her boots and took Mayten’s other hand. Tray joined in, taking Hunter’s other hand and completing the circle. Mayten had never led thanks-giving—that always fell to the eldest in the family. At home, that meant her da. In this circle, it meant Hunter. He looked at her and nodded, encouraging her to begin.
The cold dirt sent a chill through her body. She lifted her arms and her friends did the same, supporting Hunter as they stretched toward the stars.
Stars she couldn’t see through the canopy of trees.
“Our feet are planted in the earth from which we came,” Mayten said. “Our hands reach to the stars, which give us hope.”
She felt her throat tighten but pressed on. “We thank you for all that we have. We trust you for all we have lost.”
Her voice cracked and tears slipped down her cheeks. She saw her tears mirrored on the faces of her friends.
She took a shaky breath and continued. “For everything and everyone between the stars and the earth we give thanks to you, Great Singer.”
“We give thanks to you, Great Healer,” echoed Cather.
“We give thanks to you, Great Traveler,” said Tray.
“Great Hunter.” Hunter’s voice was barely a whisper. A tear slid down his cheek, salting the earth.

Chapter Sixteen
Mayten tossed and turned, unable to get the events of the day out of her mind. Somewhere on the far side of the fire, she could hear Adven’s voice, low and gravelly, talking to Tray. Tears burned her eyes when she found herself looking at Hunter’s still form, Cather curled up beside him. She likely wanted to be close by in case the woodsman needed anything.
Trying not to sob, Mayten turned away from the campfire, laying a hand on Anatolian’s warm back.
Night seemed to last forever, but finally dawn’s gray light began filtering through the trees. Mayten rolled over, her first thought of Hunter.
He hadn’t moved. Neither had Cather.
Adven rose and shook Tray’s shoulder. Mayten struggled from her blankets as Tray gently shook Cather’s shoulder. Evidently, the healer had managed some sleep.
Anatolian huffed, standing and stretching before heading into the trees. Adven threw a log on the fire which sparked to life. The tang of campfire smoke burned Mayten’s nostrils. She rubbed at her gritty eyes, then quickly filled her pack and shouldered it. Tray handed her a chunk of cooked meat with an apologetic grimace. Anatolian came back in time to whuff at Tray and got his own hunk of meat as a reward. Tray patted the big dog’s head.
“No time to heat coffee this morning. Adven wants us headed out.”
Mayten nodded, unwilling to trust her voice. Somewhere above, a bird sang its morning song, the song jangling like broken bells against her heavy heart. She moved to Hunter’s side, her feet as leaden as her soul.
Tray and Cather had evidently said their goodbyes while she was packing. Tray stood next to Cather, awkwardly patting her shoulder. Tears shone on Cather’s cheeks, but she shrugged her pack on and waited as Mayten bent down to kiss Hunter’s cheek.
His eyes fluttered open and he spoke softly, his voice weaker than the day before. She had to bend close to hear his words. “He’s . . . not . . . a . . . bad . . . man.”
Mayten glanced at Adven standing, arms crossed, next to Tray and Cather, a deeper scowl than usual on his face.
“Try to . . . see the . . . good in him.” The effort seemed to drain the last of the woodsman’s strength. His eyes slipped closed.
“Time to go. Day is wasting,” Adven said.
Mayten scowled back at him. She leaned so low her lips almost brushed Hunter’s ear. “I’ll try for you, Hunter. For you. And I’ll always remember you as my brother.”
She brushed her lips across his cheek, stood, and stalked past Adven, giving a savage grin when her pack knocked his shoulder as she passed.
~ * ~
For a long time the trio walked in silence, staying closer to each other than they normally did. Mayten didn’t know about the others, but she needed to be close to her friends.
They were leaving gentle Hunter to die in the forest.
She would never see him again.
The forest somehow felt less friendly than it had before. Mayten found herself flinching at the snap of a twig. The stories of bears and boars now seemed a threatening reality instead of a funny tale.
She’d been an idiot to wander through the forest alone yesterday. Adven had been right to be angry with her.
I’ve got to get my mind off what happened.
Mayten drew a deep breath and focused on the trees instead of Hunter. All around her, aspens whispered in the early morning breeze, new leaves shining like bright green coins as they caught the sun.
She cleared her mind, opened her soul to whatever the trees wanted to show her as she walked. Nothing happened at first. She remembered the messages she’d received from the redwoods, the feel of being inside the grandmother tree.
Just as Mayten was ready to give up, convinced