Soul of the Crow: An Epic Dark Fantasy (Reapers of Veltuur Book 1), стр. 31

Careful to avoid the crunch of dried leaves, I tiptoe around him, hoping to find my mark lying underneath him, guarded by his body. He’s not large by any standards, but she is small enough that I think she could fit easily beneath him.

When I find that he is only leaning at that angle because his elbow is propped awkwardly beneath him and that there is no girl in sight, I search the other side of the tree. Nothing.

I growl through a white-hot flash of frustration, rounding the tree and coming toe-to-toe with the prince. If anyone knows where the princess is, it’s him.

My leg rears back, preparing for a solid blow that will hopefully wake the prince from his catnap, when I remember that I’m not actually sure why my power didn’t kill him earlier. Sure, I have a theory, but the truth is I don’t have much to test it on. I’ve literally never had any other contact with a mortal before, so I can’t be sure it was the lack of skin-to-skin contact that saved him. For all I know it could’ve been a special fabric that he’s no longer wearing, or perhaps the palace itself was protected by some charm.

If I’m wrong and even touching him through the leather toes of my boots can kill him, then kicking him now will only make my mission take longer. He is my lead to finding the Guardians and the girl. I can’t afford to test my theories right now.

Instead, I storm to the nearest tree and in its shadow I find a fallen branch longer than my arm and barely thicker than one of my fingers. Dragging my feet, I use the short distance between the tree and the prince to make as much noise as possible, his final warning to wake before I use harsher methods. When I reach his body, I wait half a second.

There are no new signs of consciousness.

I shrug and swing the stick down across his back.

“Time to wake up, prince!” Each word becomes a new thwacking and I manage to get a fifth one in before the prince has opened his eyes and scurries out of reach.

He cowers against the trunk of the tree, cradling his head from any further blows. “Stop! I’m up!”

I lower the branch, but my grip stays strong, ready to strike again if need be. I am willing to do whatever it takes to get the answers I need, to find the Guardian I’ve been sent to search for.

But I’m suddenly reminded of something Leumas said: Befriend him if you must. In fact, I encourage it.

Squinting, I observe the prince. His eyes are wide with bewilderment, but the longer I watch him, the more I realize it’s not me he fears. Not right now, anyhow. As his eyes dart around the forest, quick and desperate, I realize he’s searching for someone. His sister’s absence, the sister he tried to protect, must not be of his own doing.

Me beating him any further will do nothing to rebuild the trust I’ve been instructed to nurture.

I drop the stick, my hands creaking in protest as I utter a word I’m not sure I’ve ever said before. “Sorry.”

He stiffens, peering up at me with reluctance.

“I didn’t know how else to wake you,” I continue, unsure of what to say next. In my focused chase, I hadn’t constructed a plan to make him believe that I was no longer going to claim his sister’s life. I know I need to gain his trust though, and I think in order to do that, I have to show that I care for the same things he does. “Where’s the girl?” I ask, realizing the second the words leave my mouth just how suspicious they sound.

Judging from his scoff, he senses it too. “I hid her. You’ll find her anywhere—won’t find her anywhere,” he corrects with a roll of his eyes.

I snort, finding amusement not only in his awkward speech, but also in the fact that he just lied straight to my face. It’s not something I experience often, a mortal having the gal to lie to me. They beg and plead, sure, but usually they don’t have the power to lie, not when the life I’ve come to claim is within an arm’s reach and my black power is already coiling around me.

Apparently, this prince and I have something in common: neither of us have any intention of telling the truth.

“Oh, I’m sure you did,” I say, a poisonous smile hooking the corners of my mouth. “And then afterward, you thought you’d take a long and restful nap in the middle of the woods.” I pause long enough to roll my own eyes, and I point back to where his tracks ended. “I followed your trail. I saw where you were ambushed, and I saw the daminila pollen. I know you didn’t hide the princess because you didn’t have time to. You were surrounded by five, maybe six mortals, and I’m guessing they took her since she’s no longer here with you.”

The prince blinks at me once, his eyes watery but the levy’s unbroken. Throwing his back against the base of the tree, he sighs deeply. Something worse than sorrow darkens his expression. “She was counting on me,” he whispers. “She was counting on me, and I—I didn’t protect her.”

I recognize his vulnerability and know this is a prime moment to prey upon. Something happened to his sister, and he just might be desperate enough to accept my help.

“Who took her?”

He scoffs again, rubbing his eyes. “Oh, right. Like I’m just going to tell you where you can find the girl you’ve been sent to kill. She’s my sister, and I’m not letting you near her. She might’ve been kidnapped by—whoever, but at least she could still be alive. If you got ahold of her though? She’s be dead.”

I need a different tactic. Something to make him think that we are on the