Page 3 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

I raised a brow at his oddness. “Is there something you are not telling me?”

He pursed his lips and shook his head, staring at the dark waters.

“Liar.”

He huffed a scoff. “Cheat.”

“Rich of you to point that out considering you are lying.”

“She would be annoyed if you did that to her—read her emotions that is.”

“How would I tell if she is lying? Without my magic, I mean.”

His brows almost touched his forehead. “That is the point. You are not supposed to tell, and especially not by using magic. If someone doesn’t wish to tell you something then it is better it remains a lie than a bitter truth.”

“What is her tell?”

He frowned. “What?”

“The tell when she lies. I won’t use my magic on her, but I’d like to know. You told me she often pretends she’s not in pain or hurt or sad so she won’t worry you. I want to worry, and I can’t if I don’t know if she is lying or not.”

He laughed and shook his head, but silently thought it over for a while. “She usually doesn’t bother to lie—she is straight forward like that.”

“That I know.”

“But,” he stopped and stared at his sword for a fifth time in our encounter. Why did he stare at it every time we spoke of her? “She does keep things from us, that would be a lie, too, yes?”

I didn't like how his shadows read of pain—heart wracking pain—but I concentrated on his words.

“She bites the inside of her lip, almost always. I know it seems like the most obvious tell, but that is hers.”

“That seems simple.”

He sheathed back his sword and stood. “What favour will you owe me if I can tell you where she is?”

My attention shot straight up to my head, making me almost light-headed. “Where is she?”

“Close.”

“Any favour.”

He sighed and turned to me, his expression almost too severe. “If you complete your mad plan, and she is not what you think she is, don’t hate her. That is my one favour.”

I blinked slowly. That was a stupid way to waste a favour. “Take me to her.”

He scoffed. “Mad. Absolutely mad.”

Eren had sat down with Mal in the strip of forest separating Adriata and Arynth while I half hid behind a tall conifer, watching the obsidian haired girl run back and forth, chasing and giggling at the black Aitan morph. The creature had grown from the last time I’d seen it and so had she.

My eyes never left her. “Hello, Snowlin,” I whispered to myself and her eyes suddenly rounded from the half-moons and searched her surroundings almost as if she had heard me.

The princess grabbed a small branch and threw it with all the force she had toward the forest where we hid. And the morph rushed after it.

The black cub hissed when she took in my presence and then immediately relaxed when I extended a hand to her little snout. “Hello, Memphis.” It was what the princess had named the creature after her mother had gifted it to her and saved it from Silas's punishment. Eren told me her favourite story was that of Memphis the cat and Spaz the rat, the two enemies who tortured one another endlessly. She’d named her uncle's ponytail as Spaz and her morph as Memphis. I’d never laughed harder before.

Memphis indulged in my petting, purring and nudging my hand for more scratches. Dyurin drew inspiration from everything when he created his animals. He had created morphs reminiscent of the night skies. Black fur like the dark night and shiny eyes resembling the northern stars. But that was not all. Not many knew, but morphs were gifted from Henah, too. This is why they could bond with others. They felt everything and everyone. And when they drew a bond with someone, they eased relief into their soul.

My magic to her was warmth and food for her own soul, and I fed her little bits of it till she was no longer hungry.