Weaving Threads of Feeling: The Calladon Chronicles, #2

By Sage Marrow

The anticipated second book of the Calladon Chronicles. Return to the captivating world and vibrant characters that will sweep you along a journey you will wish you could read for the first time again and again.

With her soul newly bonded to her best friend, Kal may be healing, but she isn't quite certain about her role regarding the Seer's broken legend. Besides, she's a bit busy. Between the effort of surviving a malevolent Dark being haunting her every step, eager to destroy her and everything she loves, and her best friend keeping secrets that she can't decipher, she has enough to do without complicating things by falling for him.

But Coerce is growing stronger, fed by the corrupting Dark emotions holding the world hostage. Despite feeling inadequate, Kal must learn that human frailty is her greatest source of strength. Others may be relying on her, but can she rely on herself?

Just what is one insignificant human capable of, anyway?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sage Marrow
• Release date: Oct 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215929414

Book preview

WEAVING THREADS OF FEELING

Book Two of the Calladon Chronicles

By Sage Marrow

WEAVING THREADS OF FEELING by Sage Marrow

Published by Sage Marrow Books

Copyright © 2022 Sage Marrow

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact: [e-mail]

Cover by Vlyxdesigns

Copyright: 1-11460194808

ISBN: 979-8-9855889-6-5

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE: Connection

CHAPTER TWO: Halls of History

CHAPTER THREE: Oran

CHAPTER FOUR: To Feel, To Know

CHAPTER FIVE: A Lost Opportunity

CHAPTER SIX: Loyalty

CHAPTER SEVEN: Chay

CHAPTER EIGHT: To Make Amends

CHAPTER NINE: The Gift

CHAPTER TEN: Shifting

CHAPTER ELEVEN: Searching

CHAPTER TWELVE: Sunsets

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: The Vynn

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Elyx

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Liiara

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Soul-Sticks

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Wounds

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: A Ribbon, A Scar, and A Swear

CHAPTER NINETEEN: To the North

CHAPTER TWENTY: With Conviction

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: Reunite

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: Spikes

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: Severed Threads of A Connection

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: Be Courageous

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: Long Night

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: Ascending

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: May I Return to You One Day

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: The Serene Woods

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: Someone Is Waiting

CHAPTER THIRTY: Conjoined

CHAPTER ONE

Connection

WITH A ROUGH GASP, I WOKE UP.

I clutched at my chest, my mind filled with the horror of phantoms swirling around me and my soul dying inside my core. Then relief filled me as I breathed in, unlabored, without the sensation of tearing in half. Gone was the burning cold, the coil of scorching pain in my torso. I was okay—inexplicably so, but okay. My pulse slowed as I calmed and I blinked, bringing my surroundings into focus.

The unfamiliar room curving overhead was barely lit by a silvery glow from tall torches that tossed blue-gray shadows everywhere. As I breathed in the smell of rain and pine, I felt a slight weight across my waist. Lifting my head a bit, I found an arm hugging me. I followed the lines of tendons and muscle, down to the swell of a shoulder, and then to the body it was attached to.

Jan lay on his stomach, his face turned towards me, relaxed as he slept. His breaths, low and steady, brushed against the top of my head. It was nice to see the hard lines set around his eyes and mouth replaced by a vulnerable gentleness that I saw so infrequently and often missed. Humra was a much harsher world than earth—it didn't pay to be vulnerable here. I had the strongest urge to defend him from the crawling shadows around us... and especially those weird, hooded figures surrounding us in a circle.

Carefully, I slid out from under his arm, sitting up warily.

One stepped towards me, breaking the circle. He tossed his hood back, and I bit back a yelp at the sight of his lidded-over eyes. They glowed faintly green behind the thin lids. Don't be alarmed, Kaleen. My name is Devric, Master of the Magi. We welcome you to our city. He swept down into a bow, followed by those behind him, like a curling wave. When he straightened, he said, completely toneless, We were doubtful that the prince could save you, but we stand corrected. Know that you remain human, despite appearances, for your blood still runs human within your veins.

I lifted an eyebrow at him, tilting an ear his way. Had I heard right? Maybe I hadn't. The whole room was spinning, and I felt incredibly heavy, like I hadn't slept in days. I'm what now?

You have just had your soul bonded with another's, Devric continued, ignoring my last question.

What does that mean? I asked him. Rubbing my eyes didn't make them feel any less like they were full of sand. Then, with a surge of panic, I looked to the prince and back, demanding, What did you do to him? No you don't, stay over there!

But Devric ignored me, stepping forward, raising an arm. His hand touched my brow and he said, When you wake, you will feel better.

Like shutters being pulled over a window, I felt everything dimming around me, and though I fought, I couldn't stop alertness from slipping out of my hold. Jan's arm became my pillow as I sank back. The last thing I saw was Devric's fuzzy image bending over me, and his strange eyes, now glowing blue.

VOICES BROKE INTO MY UNCONCIOUSNESS, stirring me. They were blank and melodic, and I didn't recognize them, which made me worried. With increasing awareness, I heard those I did know, and I latched onto them, using them as anchors to ground myself back into my body.

Quiet, gentle: Rya.

Leisurely, pleasant: That would be Malin.

Low and firm: Alajan.

High and squeaky? Trizz.

She wakeses! She waked up!

The first thing that I saw when I peeled my eyes open was six whiskers framing a pink nose bobbing in my face, light green eyes glowing excitedly.

Get off, Trizz. I brought up a heavy hand and made a sorry attempt to shove him away. The pramiite ducked under the flimsy pass and continued to sit on my chest, rubbing his nose against my cheek, purring away.

I don't know what you're talking about, Devric, Malin announced from where he stood, leaning slightly towards me with his hands on his knees and a big grin on his face. She seems perfectly fine to me. Anyone could've dodged the swipe I flung at him.

Sitting up properly, rubbing my eyes open, I took notice of where I was at: An eerily lit room formed from walls of giant slabs of blue stone. I had no idea whether it was the same room I had woken up in the first time, or if I had been moved. Strangely, everything I looked at had incredibly sharp detail, down to the granules of small pebbles that lined the edges where the walls met the floor. As I considered it, everything smelled different too. Puzzled, I stared at Trizz, who was blinking at me from where I held him up. Every strand of his fur was perfectly outlined to me in a mix of subtle hues amongst the white—and why was it just now that I realized he smelled faintly of something like raspberries and lime?

Setting the pramiite down, I saw five blue robed Magi standing in front of me, Rya to the side with Malin. I stared at them too, while they looked at me in a mixture of confusion and worry, but I was busy wondering how they could look the same and yet so different. Was that... grass and pollen I smelled? I could feel my nose twitch. There was something mixed in with Rya's scent, like warm soil. Shrugging it off, I held up a hand to my mouth as I let out a huge yawn.

There was a blur of movement out of the corner of my eye. It was almost without thinking, still yawning, that I reached out to grab something aimed at me. Then I gawked in surprise, looked down to the bowl I held, and glared at the one who chucked it at me.

Unfazed, Jan never took his eyes off me as he pulled a jug from the table beside him and threw it at me with inhuman speed.

I caught it. What are you doing? I demanded, jumping to my feet.

Jan punched me.

Or, he attempted to. Catching his fist in my right hand, I pulled his arm to the side. And then, I gaped in disbelief. What—?

Without waiting, the prince swung his right fist around. This time I shoved the strike away, turning my back to him as I did, driving my elbow towards his stomach. Using his forearm to simply block it, he swung a leg to catch behind my knees. Thrown of balance, I propelled myself to my hands and flipped over to a standing position behind him.

Malin and Rya were staring unblinkingly at me. Trizz's bottom jaw hit the ground while Jan's eyes narrowed.

What's wrong? I demanded, on the verge of having a serious freak out session. What happened to me? You did something! The accusation fell flat as I noticed all their eyes were by my feet, behind me. So, moving slowly, I glanced down between my legs, and I nearly bit my tongue off before screaming my lungs out.

Right there, swaying absently from my tailbone, was a fifth appendage, covered in long, snowy white fur; something that belonged on the back end of a canine, not me. But it couldn't really be, right? I mean, really, a wolf tail?

The fur on it spazzed as I shrieked, What did you do to me?!

It took nearly fifteen minutes for anyone to shut me up to explain anything. First, I was told I might want to sit down—but when I did, I promptly sat back up, not used to having a certain addition in the way. Then I realized it responded when I told it to move, like an arm or a leg, this way or that, and I curled it across my lap, clutching it with shaking hands. Then, as Rya and Malin, with inputs and outburst from Trizz, sat down and attempted to describe all that'd happened, I turned ten different shades of pale. Yes, it can be accomplished. In the end I was more bewildered than when they began until Jan added in from where he leaned, arms crossed, against the wall. Basically, it went as follows:

It's not so bad, Kal. Nothing's wrong with having a tail—

"Malin, explain to her how we got here."

Oh, sorry. Well...

"It be-id a hugen nasty battle! Trizz scratched and Trizz bited but—"

Thanks Trizz. As I was saying, the phantoms were returning after you repelled them and—

"They were icky and grossed!"

"Anyway, Gerrin had already directed Jan to the trapdoor, which eventually leads to here, the Magi's city, and so both of you were gone when we managed to get to the root floor."

But Trizz yowled and howled at the mo'sters and the walls were shaken and snaps—

The tavern collapsed—

Right as we got through the trapdoor as well—

And then Trizz was forced to wander and wander through darked tunnels that never ended and his belly howled while his ears still ringed and his paws hurted and—

We met the Magi, and they dragged us away after telling us you were practically dead, because the phantoms had shredded your soul, and there was nothing that they could do to heal you.

Except for Jan, that is. Devric—he's the cheery one over there—said Jan was capable of saving you by splitting his own soul. Don't look so worried Kal, it's all right now.

Rya sighed helplessly. I think we've just confused her even more, Malin.

Probably, Malin conceded.

I SPITTED ON ALL MO'STERS!

Here's where I was hopelessly lost. So...

The prince growled impatiently. You were attacked—I brought you here—I healed you! It's not complicated!

"Well that put it simply, Jan."

"And you didn't say that in the first place why?"

Good kayzing migraines, Jan grumbled.

"I'm still human, aren't I?" I asked. Despite what Devric had told me before he forced me to conk out earlier, I've seen nil humans walking around with tails and I had my suspicions.

Undoubtedly so, Jan answered for me, one hand raised to pinch the bridge of his nose while I held up my arm to check my veins.

Yep. Still blue-veined.

Then, what happened to the phantoms? Immediately, as their faces fell, I felt a tight curl of dread inside. I jumped when the Magi stirred for the first time, and one lady stepped forward, her eyes glowing dark blue.

We feel you are hurting, she said evenly. Will you let us—?

No, Jan said shortly, not bothering to look her way. Leave. He had his arms folded tightly, as if he were holding an ache deep inside of him. I knew that expression hardening his face. Grief. I reflexively squeezed my tail tightly, felt the subsequent, sharp pain, and I hastily let it go.

Devric stepped forward now, palms up. Prince—

Jan looked at him. Sometimes healing requires hurting. Sometimes grief clears the way for peace. Leave. Once the Magi had swept from the room, he kept his gaze down as he asked, Gerrin followed through with it, then?

Yes, Rya said, before she pressed the heels of her hands against her shimmering eyes. I didn't like the sorrow Malin showed as he wrapped his arms around her.

What were they talking about? Followed through with what, exactly?

What happened to Gerrin? I asked. Trizz jumped to my lap and I caught him reflexively.

Oh, sorrows! Trizz wailed, touching one forepaw to my cheek. Brave Gerrin stays so we can leaved.

But... why didn't Gerrin...? You mean... I shook my head. Why didn't he escape too? I raised my gaze to find with a wrenching pain that the sobs I heard were Rya's, and Malin was crying too. Jan looked hollowed out, eyes unfocused on the ground before him. If I had never gone to his tavern, Gerrin would still be alive.

Maybe it was the rudest wake up call to ever be contrived, but I realized something terrible then: to be human was devastatingly costly. Gerrin had lost his life because of the phantoms searching for me. And Jan... Jan had torn his soul in two to save mine. Twisting the Sacra Band around my wrist, the very key to Veils, I submerged beneath a crushing wave of guilt. Could I have saved him if I had been able to somehow protect myself? I felt so useless.

Hugging Trizz to myself, I whispered, I'm sorry.

Jan heard me, startling from his thoughts, a look of alarm crossing his face as he set his sharp eyes on me. What for?

I couldn't meet his gaze, so I looked to the others instead. Just about everyone is trying to hurt or kill me, and the few who aren't have to constantly pick up the slack for my limitations. Swallowing, I faced Jan again. You said yourself I make it hard to keep me alive.

The preferred term he had liked to use throughout the years was handful.

He nodded slowly. Yes, that's true. The amount of effort being put in to harm you has been the greatest opposition I've ever had to face. He pushed away from the wall, walking towards me. But there's something you don't understand. What happened, and what will happen, is not your fault. He crouched before me, eyes both stern and earnest, stripped defenseless with his sorrow. Listen, Twig-limbs. The more that comes your way, trying to break you down, the more that gather their Darkness against you—their actions prove that you are not worthless, but are valuable. That's why Gerrin gave his life. That's why, even if we are few, as you've said, we will give whatever is required to keep you safe. He gave me his mischievous grin. Yes, you make it difficult, but that's because the greater the Darkness that is amassing, the brighter the Light it's trying to destroy. It's because of what you are going to become.

I wasn't sure I fully agreed with him. In the wake of losing Gerrin, it was difficult to do so. Hesitantly, I stretched out a hand, letting my fingers curl over his. I could feel the callouses and the ridges of white, old scars marking his skin, as familiar to me as the way my best friend smiled or the way he spoke. Jan?

Yes?

Thanks, I said inadequately, not sure how else to phrase what I was feeling. For saving me.

His fingers tightened around mine. I always will, Kal.

CHAPTER TWO

Halls of History

IN ORDER FOR ME TO BELIEVE WHAT JAN had told me—which was something I couldn't accept yet, because I didn't deserve it—something had to change. I had to know about more about what I carried on my wrist. I had to know more about my role here, and just what was expected of me. When I asked the prince if I had to wait until I met the Seer before I could get answers, I jumped at the sound of a magus' voice. I hadn't even noticed that they had returned to the room.

Devric spoke, his eyes held levelly at Jan, glowing a pale blue beneath their creepy permanently closed lids. It's rather interesting how vulnerable mortals are to emotions and pain. Chills shot down my spine from the look Jan gave Devric at that. As it is, we have needed to speak with the human alone for quite some time. The magus bent his gaze my way and my skin prickled under its intensity. We may offer you aid concerning the key you carry.

Whatever you have to say is fit for all our ears, Jan said flatly, jaw tight.

A second magus bowed their head. But prince—

I'm her guardian, she never leaves my sight.

And we're her friends, we stay as well, Malin added coldly. I saw Rya clenching her fists as she glared.

I gulped, very glad that they were on my side.

Take caution, Devric began. Because of his unaffected voice it was impossible to tell what he meant. Emotions can destroy you. Loyalty can be fatal.

As far as I'm concerned, I spoke up, stepping forward, that's what's been keeping us alive lately. What did you want to tell me?

The master magus didn't say anything for a moment, simply watching me. It is your decision regarding what you need. You are now capable, in terms of ability, of the same as he with whom your soul has bonded. Loyalty can be fatal, he repeated, and soon you will discover why. As for what is needed to be said, there is one who dwells with us here underground. He is an immortal such as us, who has ability that extends beyond our own. We have been commanded by him to watch and wait for when the bearer of the Sacra Band would appear. We have waited since the ending of the First War.

An immortal? I gaped. Who is he? How can he help me?

His name is Oran, said Devric, and he is the very creator of the band you carry. I wished to speak with you alone because Oran trusts none and will see none but you. We have been told it is crucial that the one carrying the Sacra Band speak with him.

The creator of the Sacra Band? He was here? There was no way I was going to pass this opportunity up. Yes, I want to meet him, I said. Spinning on my feet, I snatched hold of Jan's sleeve, tugging to get his attention. You’ll come with me, right? I have so many questions I don’t know where to start. Not waiting for an answer from him, I demanded, Where can we find Oran?

He wanders the tunnels, a magus said, his eyes swirling pale green behind their lids. Oran is afraid of many things, and so he remains underground, hidden from the world.

My hopes dropped. You're saying you don't know?

Never fear, Malin said gallantly. We'll find him. Just lead us to where he was last. We’ll search from there.

Devric nodded, gesturing for us to follow him as he said, We will take you there.

Oh, grands, Trizz said from where he perched on my shoulder, nose twitching in his excitement. We hunted him downs.

Why would an immortal be afraid? I wondered to myself. Then, with a jolt, I realized I was still holding Jan’s sleeve. I hastily let go.

I can think of a few things, Jan said evenly. If he noticed my blunder, he didn't comment on it. And of course I’m going with you.

DOWN A SLOPING CORRIDOR, PAST a circular entrance lined with large gemstones, Devric stretched his hands out as we entered a huge cavern. Welcome to our Halls of History. What you see are the images we create to record events of time. This is where Oran was last seen.

Devric's emotionless voice floated around, echoing slightly. I was hardly paying attention to him as I slowly spun on the spot, my head craned back so my eyes could look at every inch of the cavern's surface. The ceiling and the walls were multi-faceted stone, and images plastered every speck of the smoothed surface. They were carved with breathtaking detail and flawless realism, somehow glowing with color almost like stained-glass. The pictures seemed alive, dancing from one event to the other in a seamless weave.

My word... Malin breathed, looking the same way Nate would if he were let loose in Willy Wonka's factory. Would you look at— He interrupted himself, exclaiming with wonder, There's Calladon's first king! He pointed halfway up the large, dome-shaped wall to a man with fierce golden eyes, golden beard, and a crimson and white robe spraying from his wide shoulders. A crown rested on his head, though it was different from anything I would have envisioned: a simple silver circlet curled around his forehead while white prongs spread from above both his ears, trailing past the side of his head, like perfectly smooth feathers wrought of metal and white stone, giving an intimidating, powerful effect.

Oh look, Rya cried next, her eyes set on an image nearer to the floor on the other side. That has to be when Nernova signed the treaty.

Is that the Sanaok Forest? It's so tiny.

Hey, this is when King Genivin conquered the southern boundary.

Tarnov! Malin suddenly shouted happily, jabbing a finger right on a picture that displayed a gorgeous sunset on the edge of an ocean with a quaint little town built before the white sand. His expression was far away, as if he could hear old memories of the sea and his childhood roiling through his head.

That's your home? Rya questioned, peering at the picture.

Of course not. Callorah is. He grinned down at her, then added thoughtfully, Though, I wonder if the dagger I stowed away in the hollow tree is still there.

My head was spinning like a merry-go-round on hyper drive. Looking away from a gruesome depicture of a bloody battle, I blinked in surprise when I spotted Jan. Devric had his hands folded up his sleeves as he waited near the prince, who stood as if paralyzed before an image that immediately captured my attention. With slow steps, I drew closer.

A man with crow-black hair and a silver patch above his right ear, holding gleaming sword in his hands, was frozen forever in time while rushing towards an oncoming foe with pale features. He was at the forefront of a crowd of Naliian men in white armor. A snarl revealed his fangs; yellow irises were focused ahead. His black dog-tail bore a golden band among the thick fur, and a blue sash tied over his armor seemed to still snap in the wind though it was just a painting. He looked like an older version of Jan.

The Conquering of the North, Jan told me when I halted at his side. It was a hard battle and half the men you see there were killed. After a moment he pulled his eyes away. You can guess who that is, can't you?

Yes. There were a million things I wanted to ask about his parents, but it didn't' seem like the right time for me to do so just for curiosity's sake. Were you there in that battle?

No. But I wanted to be. A frown twisted Jan's mouth downwards, and one hand reached up to touch the blue fabric woven into a strand of his hair. My father wasn't a man fond of battle, but sometimes you don’t have a choice but to defend.

I bit my bottom lip. Seeing his father forever portrayed in a battle must have bothered Jan to no end. This place was rather cruel. Glancing to the picture and back, I said, That was his, wasn't it? Or at least, a part of what was his.

Jan tugged on the strip of fabric and let it go. Yes. It's a reminder to me. He set a hard look on the carved image of his father. As long as I am a part of who he was, then I am becoming what I should.

I set my hand against his arm. For what it's worth, I think he would be proud of you.

Jan smiled, and I didn't like how sad and heavy the gesture was. I hope so. As if rousing himself, he shook his head sharply. Let's see if we can find Oran.

WE SPLIT UP TO COVER MORE GROUND, and I meandered from the cavern down a hallway, following a sequence of images that moved from times of happiness to times of despair. As I walked along, I could almost hear the howling of a storm, or feel the tremor in the ground from an oncoming Horde. The images I looked at seemed to be older; among them, I saw three men I didn't know, dressed in robes. Near them, a lady in white stood before two small, younger figures...

Hold up.

I squinted at the wall. The image had been there a second ago. Now, it was completely blank. Stretching out a hand to feel the wall, my fingers felt only smooth stone. Trying to figure out whether my mind was playing tricks on me, I didn't notice the shadow bobbing towards me until it was too late.

Rounding from around a corner ahead, humming a tune that I recognized—which in turn made me stare at his approach with disbelief—white robes flapped cheerfully as a white-haired, knobby-kneed old man skipped from around the corner. With his large walking stick in hand, and white beard flouncing out behind him, his pale blue eyes glittered as he hummed merrily.

Catching sight of me, the old man I had met on the Highway froze in the most unfeasible and precarious position anyone can assume while stopping mid-skip; he would have made ballerinas jealous, standing on the tips of his toes of one foot, his other leg extended forward, arms out as if his only desire in life was to morph into a bird and fly.

"What are you doing here? I demanded, completely frazzled. Jan had guessed he was one of the Guides when I had described my previous encounter. He had called him Elyus. Then a horrid thought filled me. You're not Oran, are you?"

Good grief! he shouted. With all the grace he could muster, he crouched down, covering his head as if I were going to attack him. "Don't ask me questions I know the answer to! After all, if I were him, I wouldn't be me, now would I?"

With my lips pursed, probably looking like I had eaten ten lemons in one go, I tried not to blink as I studied him. I wanted to keep him in my sight and watch for any sudden movements. Then Jan was right. Is your name Elyus?

I answer to it, he conceded. But what's this? He suddenly popped his head up, looking side to side dramatically. I told you to keep close to the prince, and here I find you wandering alone. Oh no, no, no, this will never do. You can't find the ‘X’ to mark the spot if you don't know what an ‘X’ looks like.

Slowly, hoping he wouldn't notice, I took a step backwards.

HISTORY! he suddenly bellowed, leaping up. I love history! Reaching behind him, he extracted a thick leather book from behind his back. Searching behind his ear, he pulled a large purple quill out of nowhere. I never run out of ink, and so I can keep up with history—because it's always going, you know. He tsked at the wall, as if disapproving of a naughty child's behavior. Images fade, but my words don't. Without further ado, he dropped to the ground with his legs folded, propped his book open on one knee, bent his head between its pages, and started scratching his quill across its surface.

I had been able to take five steps away by this point.

And so, the old man suddenly announced, making me freeze guiltily in place as he looked up. His chin wobbled and fat tears were threatening to drip from of his eyes. And so, she walks away into the sunset—

Looking left, looking right, I reaffirmed my sanity. What sunset? I questioned blandly.

Oh, you never know, was his reply as he gestured vaguely. They show up every now and then if you're lucky enough to catch them. Grinning widely, he added, I think I spotted one once.

Six steps back now.

Right, well, bye, I said hastily, before turning on the spot and all but power walking away. I heard a sigh trail after me, and I dared to glance over my shoulder though I didn't stop moving.

I do hate the boring parts of history, Elyus lamented before reaching for his staff. That is, I'm sure I would if I ever ran into them. As he let out a whooping laugh, he tapped his staff twice on the ground, and he vanished, purple quill and all.

I broke into a run to get back to the others.

CHAPTER THREE

Oran

JAN HAS ALWAYS, TO MY MEMORY, smelled faintly of something like pines: a wild, striking scent blended with a trace of clarity; the same sharp scent that draws in before a storm. As close as I was to him now, the smell permeated my nose and whooshed into my lungs with each breath. It was far from unpleasant, though I would have rather had my teeth pulled than admit that to anyone.

Good gravy, I was never going to get used to my new attributes given to me by the nature of the bond between my soul and Jan's. It was odd enough seeing far more detail than was normal wherever I looked. But now my nose was constantly assaulted with different aromas. And my ears... I never knew just how loud some people walked. Like myself, before I took notice and made an effort to change it.

Devric had explained to me that since the prince's very soul was healing mine, not unlike when he physically used his hands to heal, drawing on his essence to do so, I now had a blend of human characteristics and Naliian abilities—specifically, Jan's. Devric called the bond a Connection, saying that our cores were knitted together, mind and soul. Devric wound on, completely losing me, until Jan summarized for me later. Plainly put, instead of healing me skin on skin, which is required for the Nalii to heal, he was doing it soul to soul, deep within. Once a Connection was set, it was in place until one of us broke it. Until that time, I would keep my new abilities.

How long it would be until my soul was fully healed, Jan didn't know. My core, after all, had been severely damaged.

How is it that you know so much about Connections? I had asked him, slightly awed that he was taking all of this in easy stride.

He had only said, Just trust me.

And because I did trust him, I didn't press the issue.

Now, I was attempting to not to get sidetracked as I sparred. It had been nearly five whole days since we'd come to the Magi's dwelling. Every day we searched for Oran, and every day we couldn't find him. If I had my way, I'd fill the time by exploring the Magi's enormous home, but I found myself being trained instead. Since I was capable of what Jan had already learned, he decided to test a sword later and shoved me into weaponless defenses— building on the foundation he had already laid back on earth, from what he had taught me over the years. I quickly learned that he had been holding back then, while pretending to be human. Way back.

To my credit, I had to say I was improving rapidly. It took me three days to lay a finger on the prince, but I managed to get him to breathe a bit harder by the end of a session. It was rather odd at times, because it was his experience and the skills that he had learned that I was trying out, like instincts I could rely on. As simple as breathing.

And breathing right now was filled with his scent.

A quick blow brought my senses back to my surroundings. I barely managed to grip Jan's wrist and turn, diverting his fist gunning for my gut. A blur of movement, a slight sting; I bent his other arm across his chest, against his captive arm, and I skidded back along the ground as I held it off, which took all my strength. My arms shook with the strain.

This isn't fair, I hissed through gritted teeth, still sliding along though I leaned into him with everything I had. You're still stronger than me. I knew from experience that if he managed to box me in the corner I'd lose.

I've told you before that strength has a weakness. Speed. Use it.

I grunted. You'd match me.

His fangs were half an inch away as he grinned wickedly. Yeah, probably.

Now you're just gloating.

You bet I am.

Oh, crap.

He untwisted himself from my grasp, unfolded his arms by spinning his back to me; his spine curled and his grip never relented as he pulled his arms downwards. One moment I had my upper half against his spine before he shifted his shoulders and the next, I fell, flipping right over him to the waiting ground.

He'd done this to me in previous matches. Just as it did then, the top of my tailbone and my shoulder blades smarted as they smacked the floor. Unlike last time, I knew what to do next.

Snatching his wrists before he could draw away, I rolled to my right. He hit the ground as I dragged him with me; he had to or have his shoulders pop out of socket.

Coming to a halt on his back, I heard Jan say, Good work.

Spitting out a lock of hair from my mouth, I pulled myself from the ground where I lay on my stomach. My hands stung, but I relished in it. Not bad for Twig-limbs, huh? I asked, to which Jan laughed.

You just might manage arm-wrestling next, he said, and I socked him in the shoulder.

Hey! Malin called out as he entered the bare room. I've got good news.

I scrambled to my feet ungracefully as Jan simply curled his feet back and then sprang forward effortlessly, smirking as he held out a hand to help me. Did they find him? I asked Malin eagerly.

Eh, not exactly, Malin returned, and hastily added when I deflated, but he's been spotted in one wing of the tunnels we searched two days ago. Rya's taken the far left of the four entrances already. I'll take the far right. If we find him, hopefully we'll be able to convince him to come with us to talk to you.

Where's Trizz?

Hollering his way down the second to left.

I couldn't help but smile at the mental image of the pramiite screeching threats as he searched for the elusive immortal. Well, I hope Oran's not planning on evading us, especially with Trizz around to alert him we're approaching.

Malin chuckled. It certainly wouldn't be in his best interest.

Jan rolled his eyes and shook his head, but the smile he gave was a fond one.

UNEXPECTEDLY, JAN AND I FOUND ORAN DOWN the set of tunnels that the others hadn't taken. For being an immortal, he wasn't what I was expecting at all. I mean, for the maker of the Sacra Band, he had a weasel's tail, and he was jumpy. He didn't look old like I