Free Night Myst by Yasmine Galenorn Page A

last time?”
    I nodded, proud of my memory. “She’s the Queen of Rivers and Rushes.”
    “That’s right, you’ve done well. Anyway, Lainule wants to make sure you have a friend who can help you send messages along the wind. She says this is very important . Do you understand? And you must remember: You can always contact our people through the wind and someone will be there to help you, even if you don’t see them.”
    I stared at him, my lower lip trembling. Somehow, even at my young age, I knew he was saying good-bye and it made me want to cry. But I forced my tears back because when Grieve said something was important, he meant it. He was a prince—he’d told me so. And I’d seen him get angry before—not so much at us, but at Chatter. An angry Grieve was fierce and unpredictable.
    After a moment, I nodded. “You need to teach me to talk to the wind, right?”
    “Right. You can already hear it speak, but you need to learn to talk back, to send information on what we call the slipstream . And at your age, to do that, you need to befriend a wind Elemental. I know some of this won’t make any sense for a while, but I’ll try to teach you the easy way to communicate with the creature. She’ll always be there to help you. You have to promise me something, though.”
    “What?” I would have promised him anything.
    “Promise me that you won’t forget this. The magic we’ve taught you. Promise me that you’ll keep practicing, even if you’re a thousand miles away.” He squatted in front of me and took my hands in his, smiling softly. “And when you’re older, come back. Come back to me . . . to us. I’d like very much to know how you turned out.” There was something in his voice, almost a promise of a future to come, and it made me both incredibly sad and yet—happy.
    I gazed into his eyes as the smooth silk of his voice slid over me. The funny-looking man with eyes so clear, so blue, that they looked like twin oceans against the olive skin of his face . . . Grieve was kind to me, and I knew he’d never hurt me.
    Solemnly, I nodded. “Promise,” I said, “cross my heart and hope to—”
    “No,” he interrupted me, his eyes glowing. “Don’t finish the rhyme, Cicely. Too many nasty creatures listen to the wind. They listen to secrets whispered in dark halls, to promises made in secret, to oaths and alliances forged. Don’t ever promise your life—not for anyone.”
    “Okay,” I said, a little afraid. I’d never seen him look quite so imposing. It was as if he’d shed a cloak and he looked even less human than usual. His chin was sharp, his cheekbones ridged, and his lips were full.
    “Now come with me, and I will introduce you to your Elemental, and teach you to speak .” And he set about the ritual that bonded me to Ulean, and taught me to harness the wind and call it to my command.

    Anadey remained silent as we spilled out our secrets about Grieve and Chatter, and how Chatter had taught Rhiannon to conjure fire, and how Grieve had taught me the ways of the wind.
    “Then, Krystal took me away,” I said. “And nothing was ever the same. But I remembered, and I kept my promise. Ulean helped me, and eventually, things began to happen. She warned me when we were in danger. The wind would grab a paper out of my hand and I’d go chasing it and bingo, there’d be a twenty-dollar bill in the street just when we were running out of food. And sometimes, the breeze tripped people who threatened to hurt me, like this one guy . . . He was about to beat the crap out of me and a sudden gust caught up a nearby garbage can and hit him from the back with it, giving me time to run.”
    “You came back before, several times, then left again. Why?”
    I’d thought about her question a thousand times. “My mother needed me. I couldn’t leave her out there alone—she was so . . . helpless, so fragile. And I wasn’t ready, I guess. Wasn’t ready to turn my back on wandering. To commit to the