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seem any less vibrant to you?”
     
    Yes. Aiyana didn’t bother to look around. She knew what she would see, the blooming flowers, the rich green leaves, the blackish-brown soil teeming with moisture from the last rain. But she could feel something different. She could feel the land…suffering. In pain, starving. Aiyana put a hand to her temple as pain throbbed at the base of her skull. At least, she thought she could.
     
    The gardener returned his attention to the rose bush he’d been attending. “Everyone is entitled to their secrets, Your Majesty. But do not let appearances fool you. When I am not tending to the royal gardens, I am a shaman for our people.” He raised his pruning shears and snipped a few brittle leaves from the bush. He ran a finger under a dead bud, brown leaves brittle and its formerly glorious roses no more than a dark mush. “If left unattended, the rot that killed this little bud would spread to the rest of the plant. The roses would all die and the bush would wither until it was nothing but a tangled nest of briars. But all I have to do is trim this little bud and the sickness will be gone. The roses will flourish and be a testament to the grandness of this garden for years to come.”
     
    Aiyana’s blood turned to icewater in her veins and she took a trembling step back. Power burned in her hands and she clenched them into fists, firmly holding them at her sides even as part of her yearned to leap at the man who dared to threaten her, however subtly. An image flew into her head, claws sprouting from her fingertips, fangs filling her mouth. He would cut my power from me. She could practically feel Okomi’s throat in her hands, feel the delicious rush of energy as his warm blood splashed the earth and spattered her face…
     
    It would be easier, a voice inside her head whispered. You would not be a threat to your people. The nightmares would go.
     
    Slowly, Aiyana calmed herself, breathing deeply until her heart resumed its normal sedate pace. “Easy to prune a plant. Not so easy with a human being.” Her voice came out hoarse, a rasping sound like wind through brittle reeds. She buried her fingernails in the folds of her cloak, blinking to rid herself of the image of ebony talons on the tips of her fingers. “Who’s to say if it’s too late, if the sickness has spread too far to be cut away and leave something worthwhile? If a person had…some sort of darkness in them, who’s to say it could be…pruned away?”
     
    “A talent beyond my own means,” Okomi agreed, his attention still on the rose bush. He grasped a wilted petal on one of the roses and gently pulled it free. “But there is a powerful fairy that lives at the lake not far from Your Highness’ castle. She is a powerful creature of nature, and she has the power to cut the darkness from a human, to help that human’s energies to grow in more positive, beautiful ways, exactly as she would for a plant.”
     
    Traitorous hope rose like a warm, comforting cloud inside her and Aiyana had to fortify herself against the foolish urge to rush right into the forest. “A fairy that powerful would want a substantial payment.”
     
    “For anyone other than a princess, that would certainly be a problem.”
     
    Gold? Would a fairy want gold for her services? Aiyana searched her memory for any old stories that told of the sort of payment a magical being might demand in exchange for their magic. “I thought fairies demanded service in exchange for service?”
     
    “And is there some service you think she would ask of you that you would be unwilling to provide in exchange for removing the darkness inside you that frightens you so?”
     
    Anger surged like an angry bear from deep inside Aiyana and she snarled. “I am not frightened, and I have admitted to feeling no such darkness. I—”
     
    Okomi fumbled, nearly dropping his shears. The scent of blood stained the air, filled it with the heavy perfume of life, the