“Please,” I continue. “I want to learn what I can about this place. About Arboron.”About you, I add silently, biting my lip, willing him to say that he either knows who Sian is, knows how to find her, or knows someone else I can talk to.
This seems to be working, I can see it in his eyes. “Sian?” he says.
“Yes! Do you know her?”
He gives a grunt and seems to think about it for a moment before he says, “Wait,” and disappears.
I make my way to the huge bed—a California king is a dog pillow compared to a Forest King-sized mattress. Everything in this room, this palace, is huge. Perfect for the hunter. Way too big for little ole, human me.
Sinking down on the bed, I let out a little huff. How is Mr. Grunty so attractive and so infuriating at the same time? Has he gone to find Sian now? In an ideal world, he’d answer my questions, but he has trouble with speech. That’s okay, there are other ways to communicate. We were starting to figure out how to commune in the forest, but since we’ve arrived at the palace, I can feel him pulling away once more. The question is, why?
It’s a puzzle I’m determined to solve.
He returns a few minutes later with a familiar figure gliding along behind him. I squeal like I’m seven. I can’t help it. “Sian!”
“Haley.” The hunter used my name one single time and never again, and I’m startled at how moved I am that Sian remembered it. How nice it is to hear it. My eyes well with tears and I blink them back. “Are you all right?” she asks. She’s standing a few feet away now, regarding me cautiously, her eyes constantly darting back to the hunter. He makes her nervous.
“Please leave us to talk,” I say to him, hoping I sound polite but firm. I don’t know if I can have this conversation with him standing there, staring at us.
For what feels like an eternity, he stands motionless, and I have a sinking feeling that he’s going to say no. Then a look passes between him and Sian, and he turns around and goes.
I blow out a breath. Sian’s shoulders relax.
“How did he find you so fast?” I ask the most burning question first.
“I work here, at the palace,” she says, flicking her long, gleaming hair over her shoulder. Now that I can see her clearly, in the bright glow of the floating orbs, I can confirm that she is indeed green—albeit a different shade to Mr. Gruntypants—and her ears are as pointed as I remember.
“Did you… did they catch you? At the hunt?”
A tiny smile flickers around her mouth. “Yes. They always catch me. In the end.”
“Were you hurt?”
“Only a little. It’s what I signed up for. Betas who participate in the Hunt of the Moons know exactly what will happen when they’re caught. I enjoy some pain with my pleasure. And I like the thrill of the chase.”
I clear my dry throat. “He caught me. The… king?”
She gives a knowing nod.
“What’s his name?”
“I don’t know,” she tells me. “We just call himYour Majesty. He is known as the Hunter King.”
“You don’t know his name?”
“No one knows who he is or where he came from. One day, during an intense Slythin attack, he appeared.”
“What?” I sit down heavily in a nearby chair, stunned at this revelation. Then I remember my manners. “Please.” I gesture to the other chair.
Sian perches herself in the seat with an innate, elegant grace. “Should I start at the beginning?”
“Oh god, yes, please.” It’s hard to hide the sudden wave of emotion as it threatens to overwhelm me. “I have so many questions. The king… doesn’t talk much.”
She rearranges the folds of her pale yellow gown. “No, he doesn’t. There was a time when we didn’t think he talked at all. Several years ago, assassins killed the last Forest King. We don’t know which kingdom they came from—”
“Wait, there are other kingdoms?”
If she’s frustrated, Sian is kind enough to hide it. “We are in the kingdom of Arboron,” she begins again, “on the planet Ulfaria. There are several kingdoms on this planet; Arboron is just one of them. Each kingdom is ruled by a king—the Wanderer King, the Golden King, the Hunter King, the Beast King, the Stone King, the King of Ruins, the Shadow King, the Demon King, the King of the Wastes…”
