Save for the screeching of the griffin rapidly disappearing into the sky, the forest has become quiet enough to hear a pin drop. It is nature's way of acknowledging a greater predator. All the smaller creatures vanish and the noise quiets down. According to the camp instructor from a school camping trip I went on years and years ago, the lack of sound within a forest is the most dangerous sign of all.
Surprisingly, my father is not the first to break the silence. In fact, it almost seems like he is not keen on speaking as he rises from the forest floor with me still tucked in his arms.
It is not Julia either who breaks the silence, her stunned expression from the corner of my eye one that I would find amusing in any other circumstance.
The words are spoken in a language I do not understand, but the implication is obvious.
"Your highness!" I assume one of Amir's guards yell. What he actually said was, "Shahzadeh!"
