Decaying Souls and Mind-Songs: The Calladon Chronicles, #3

By Sage Marrow

The reader favorite cast of characters return in the third book of the Calladon Chronicles. Get ready to have your heartstrings pulled, to laugh out loud, and to face your worst nightmares.

Nate was always more reckless than his sister, so it's surprising to him that she is called away on an adventure while he gets to do nothing but wait for her return. That is, until events outside of his control threaten to separate the two of them forever. Nate takes fate into his own hands and finds himself entering a world he is not prepared to protect himself from.

With the mysteries of her past on the verge of unraveling, Kal must stop a war that has been brewing for centuries. But how do you do so when the very people you're trying to save don't want to be rescued? She may be getting a handle on using the key to Veils and weaving her Seership from the Emotions of the world, but she's still human at the end of the day. She has her limits.

What's worse, Jan is missing, believed to be dead. Without him, she must face the threatening Dark on her own. Time is running out for all Calladon as Coerce unleashes her worst, causing devastation to the minds and souls of the Nalii.

With everything in peril, what wins the battle—human limitations or human perseverance?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sage Marrow
• Release date: Oct 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215219393

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Crumbling Reality

EVERYTHING SURROUNDING ME WAS DRAINED OF COLOR, AND I WAS RUNNING.

The ground below my bare feet shimmered with every footfall, rippling with light. Glowing, lightning-like trees with translucent leaves flew by, and amid the branches, I knew someone else was running with me, keeping pace. But he flickered in and out of sight, and every time he disappeared, I feared he would never reappear again.

After hours, or maybe days, we came to a stop before a swirling pool of water, clear as crystal. The Seer's Seeing Pool. I was damp with sweat, and strangely he was too, our breath misting before us, as if we've never learned to breathe before until now. He shouldn't have been this fatigued. I could never have run this far.

Stretching out a hand to him, I asked, Do you see me, Jan?

His gaze swept right over me, unfocused, his ears cocked to the side, listening.

No, he didn't.

Dismayed, I rushed forward, calling out again.

"Kal! Kal, wake up!"

With a wrenching gasp, my eyes flew open. My Seership glowed brilliantly where it was twisted in my hands. My phone was being waved in my face.

It's Mom! Nate gasped, as if he'd been punched. My little brother’s face was tense with panic. "Get up—we've got to go!

CHAPTER ONE

Cries of the Lost

CALLA

"I'm catching the wind and I'm not coming back.

I'll move until space is no longer black.

Three steps more will take me to life's edge.

Beyond I'll find forever in its stead.

Take off the shackles holding us down,

Watch for we no longer walk on the ground."

SINGING FILLED THE DARK. HER VOICE WASN'T LOUD, flowing in low tones that tenderly curled over the words to her Conjoined's mind-song. The orb of light held between her palms threw off a purple-tinted glow.

Calla set her gaze towards the looming archway that stood as the entrance to Callorah. Beside her, a gushing stream carried on its way, peaceful despite the Red Moon that burned overhead among falling stars. She shuddered as she looked to the figures gathering at the foot of the Sanoak Forest. The menacing aura that pervaded the air around them made her bones quake within her. One figure in particular, her multi-hued red dress splaying around her, stood in the center of the circle while thick frost spreading from her feet.

Oh, Kaleen, Calla thought. How we need you here.

SONIIYA

THE HOAR FROST GATHERING BENEATH HER BARE FEET MADE HER SOLES ACHE, and she clenched her teeth against it. The red array she wore was heavy on her shoulders, dragging across the ground, as if the frost was clutching at it eagerly, and she moved in a slow pace. The scarlet crescent moon above looked like a gash in the sky that bled. The chill in the air and on the ground was nothing compared to the presence in her mind.

I had rather thought, came the familiar whispering chorus, that you would be used to me by now. I am what gives you worth, uncrowned Queen of Calladon.

Soniiya didn't respond, scanning across the faces of those looking her way, their rapt attention almost trancelike. She heard their rumbling singing, felt the words jab at her skin. It was fueled by the anger and resentment spreading inside of her, like poison traveling her veins. Coerce stroked the black emotions, giving them strength—such strength that Soniiya halted in place, the world around her wavering as her mind filled with the latest experience that had made her feel so broken.

YOU KNOW THAT I CAN HELP YOU, ALAJAN. All it would take for Nathorin to bow before you would be to bring their Over-Lord to me. You know my special ability would take care of his obstinacy.

I will not allow you to do to others what you do to me.

Instead of hearing the hard edge in his voice, Soniiya smiled. He was the one person who would not use her as others would. Can't you see, she thought, that's why I love you?

Don't go to them, she said softly. She reached out to him. Whatever you do, don't go to Nathorin.

Her elegant fingers curled around the king's right arm before Soniiya set her head against his shoulder. Won't you let me help you? I don't like standing to the side and watching whatever is bothering you tear you apart. Her fingers lifted to run through ruggedly cut hair, her eyes entranced by the golden patches among the black strands. She was aware that they that had dulled slightly the past few months. Her eyes scanned over the naturally tanned skin, the slope of his shoulders. She traced the sharp jaw lined with dark stubble with her fingers. The formerly stanch and vivid crimson eyes were more listless than they used to be. They narrowed in her direction.

I'm not your kayzing toy. Stop petting me.

But you are my Conjoined, she said firmly, mouth beside his ear. For six months now, and you still treat me like some common stranger. She paused, focusing on the patched dog-tail that bore a golden Pack around it. Her hands reached for it, grasping the cold metal.

She jerked back when he whirled and snapped at her, fangs bared, a thundering growl in his chest.

You see? she cried, grasping at his shirt and gripping hard. Alajan, I'm not just someone that you wake to every morning; not just someone that stays by your side every day. I am your wife! You could be a stranger to me for how you treat me. You never move to hold me, kiss me, or even take my hand once in a while! Soniiya stopped, holding her breath for his response. She hurled her arms around him with a cry of distress at his cold expression.

"Forget that human, she's not here! She never will be again! I am here!" Soniiya threw her head back, mouth open to say more, but the words died in her throat at his expression.

You have to wonder why I treat you like a stranger? he questioned her, leaning forward to meet her gaze steadily. Because when I do this—he took hold of her hands—or this—he kissed her knuckles—or this—his lips hovered a breath away from her trembling mouth—it's not you that I see. And that's not fair to you. Or me.

Her stunned features were flushed, her eyes wide and full of confusion, her hands white as her grip on him tightened. What did she do to deserve your heart? her voice was slow, challenging.

Alajan pulled his hands from hers, stepping around his wife. She didn't lock me in a cage.

Soniiya stared after him long after he had disappeared through the door.

Her hands suddenly fisted into her skirts. The filthy thing doesn't wear your wedding Pack, she called after him, seething. And you hate that you made that choice.

NO ONE NEEDS THAT PITIFUL HUMAN, SHE RAGED IN HER HEAD. They need me. Alajan needs me.

The sharp claws that formed her nails brushed against the skin of her forearms as she touched the lacing tendrils of frost clinging there, before throwing her arms wide. Around her, the Nalii of Callorah waited for her to perform the rites for the Red Moon.

I speak for the White Lady! she cried. I am her voice. I speak for the dying Light. I speak for the rising Dark.

Wrong, Coerce whispered to her. So very wrong, corrupted one. If you think to keep him from me, telling him not to travel to Nathorin, you are mistaken. I will kill you for it.

Soniiya stiffened, her eyes flaring wide, the sky sprawling open before her terrified gaze. As her pulse rose in her ears, she saw a streaming mass of shadow and amethyst flame descending from among the stars. Those around her followed her gaze up, hearing the roaring approach of the solitary Renegade.

Stumbling back, her feet tearing open against the sharp frost, Soniiya clenched her fists, nails piercing her skin. ALAJAN! she screamed.

The Renegade reformed himself into a physical state, sliding into position before her, swiping his serrated blade forward as she turned to run away from him.

A hand snatched hold of the Renegade's wielded arm—just as the jagged-edged blade met the skin of her back—strong fingers curling around the Renegade's wrist, dragging the golden-eyed man forward to meet the ready end of a scythe. A horrid shriek rose from the Renegade's mouth as he pulled back. Singing its familiar melodious whistle, a chain flew after him, the scythe borne on its end. Coerce's slave toppled as his head parted from his shoulders.

Alajan! Soniiya gasped. She grasped the back of his shirt and huddling behind him as he stood before her, his arms spread as he held his scrith and its chain in his hands. His tail beat once against her hip, as if to shove her away.

The bloodthirsty crowd around her cheered, the Nalii dropping to one knee before him. Pride swelled inside her at the sight. Their voices spiraled towards the crimson moon together, crying out salutations to the Dark Lady, to the king and queen of Calladon. Through the corner of her eye, Soniiya saw Caraak's shadowy form, a cruel smile on his lips as he watched silently.

Her husPack moved to pull away from her, his scrith returning to the belt around his hips, but she tightened her grip.

Remember, she breathed, her brow pressed between his shoulder-blades, who I serve. She kissed the back of his neck, red sparks flaring, before she released him. A long scratch—a formerly healed wound that she herself had inflicted—opened along his collarbone.

Yes, do. You will spend this night celebrating me and you will let him go to Nathorin. Coerce warned, Don't ever oppose my will again.

MALIN

THIS IS... INFURIATING... 

Terek didn't respond, forest green eyes heavy and sad. What was left of his sand-colored tail hung limp. His shoulders slumped with a pressuring weight that wouldn't relent.

Sorrow was so hard to bear.

I can hardly stand still. Rich, angry brown eyes flared in abhorrence, body quivering straight down to his white fine-haired horse tail.

A turn of a head, a glance; Terek didn't know what to say.

How much longer do we have to wait, Terek? Malin questioned. His words were riddled with layers of mounting tension and odium. Complicated layers that were so close to snapping.

Terek could only give a quiet sigh, feeling the burden of drawing in air again. He felt so tired. His eyes grew vulnerable as he lamented softly, I think the king has enough demanded of him from his kingdom without us asking more from him. If he feels overwhelmed, which he has every right to, he certainly doesn't show it. But you know him as well as I. Imagine how hard it would be to hold together a fragmenting thing that seems to desperately want to tear itself apart?

Locks of blonde hair shadowed Malin's eyes as he ducked his head slightly, looking off to the side. He's changed.

Yes, he had to. Let's go, then, and see what help we may offer. Terek began to plod his way from the hillside.

Standing still, Malin unfolded his arms. Callorah, what's happened to you? he asked the air.

A heavy, wet fog had draped itself around the top half of the richly green mountain that towered over the white-stone castle. A harshly cold wind shoved at the residue of moisture clinging to the Sanoak trees left from the receding rainstorm, sending the clouds spiraling out in gray ribbons. The homes entwining the skirts of the lake held lights to ward off the gloom. The lake itself rippled as if the unsettlement in the air was making it nervous.

Malin started off after Terek, feeling uneasy himself.

CHAPTER TWO

Spreading Darkness 

ALAJAN

HE HEARD HER MIND-SONG. HE WAS SURE OF IT. No matter how he stretched out his in reply, grasping, he could never reach her. Elyus had said Connecting could not happen through a Veil. Yet, he heard her.

Pain roiled through his system without warning, catching his breath and sending his nerves through fire-hot shocks of agony, and he halted, shivering. He wanted to believe that it was nothing, but his gasping betrayed what he truly felt, knowing in his mind that it was, in fact, everything. Ever since he had given his Charm away...

Alajan slumped forward in exhaustion, the heels of his hands firmly pressing on his forehead as he used all his willpower to keep from whining in despondency, waiting until the attack slowly ebbed out of him and he was left feeling as if he had been sucked hollow.

The sudden attacks had simply started as minor headaches—something he was unused to getting so frequently but handled without a second thought. Three months after his wedding, the pain had expanded and enlarged until now, when it came, it seemed to want nothing more than to engulf him. He thought at first that it was Soniiya's constant power over him. He shuddered, remembering the lacerations that she could so casually reopen along his body. She had threatened him before, and made good on those threats, but... not matter how she could hurt him, nothing could make him give her what she was after. Nothing.

Then when his ability to heal and to form his light-orb began to fade, he knew that it was something more. His thoughts turned to what he now carried within his veins; the Dark presence threatened to entirely dampen the Light within his core. His ability was suffocating beneath it. The effect the Gift had on him may have become more damaging in the absence of his Charm, now worn around the neck of a human girl, far away.

Swiftly, he forced his mind to go blank.

The shadows filling the hall crawled as if alive, trailing over his skin, almost smothering as he breathed carefully through receding fire in his lungs. It was through a gathering cold that he finally sat up, opening his eyes to the black room. He pressed his palms together before holding his hands suspended from each other, a spark of golden light forming before flickering into nothing. Sighing in defeat, he dropped his hands.

When footsteps filled the hall, he sat thrumming his fingers on the flat armrest, tapping over the cloth draping the white-stone throne. It was firmly and squarely cut—simple, humble, and not at all a symbol of delicacy.

You called for me, Sire? I suspect you are finally ready to hear the Council’s suggestions.

His eyes and his attention snapped away from the sunsets spreading out beyond the huge, arching windows. The Lord Cedrin stood stiffly before him, waiting for his answer.

It's time that you did, the man was saying, blotches of fury coloring his face. Consider your coronation in three days. A thorough cleaning of all the filth in your White City would greatly increase—

Your treasury, no doubt, Jan responded blandly.

At least Cedrin had the decency to put on a mask of injustice, if a little lacking in being convincing. There has been uprisings, murder, thievery—

You have a keen eye for such things, Cedrin. Accustomed to it, by chance?

The other sputtered, growing pale, and then red once more. Is my Lord insulting me?

Don't feign ignorance. Isn't it satisfying to know I am acknowledging your work after all this time?

What are you getting to? This time Cedrin spoke quietly.

Jan pinched the bridge of his nose. I met a friend of yours the other day. He was in serious need of a bath, too. He was caught attempting to free his brother from the Prison House, but as it turned out, he had a different agenda to follow.

3 days previously

THE PRISONER WAS DRAGGED FORWARD, A FIERCE AND LIVID expression twisting his mouth. He straightened his small frame, eyes gleaming maliciously as Jan approached. When the king neared, he growled and lurched forward, falling back heavily as his chains were yanked in place and two swords crisscrossed in an X around his neck. Terek's men stood on either side of him, impassive to the glare he shot them.

Deal justly with me, King, the man heaved, showing blackened teeth beneath dirty skin. Leave way. It was not my doing.

What, the stench that's surrounding you? Alajan wrinkled his nose.

Who are you to speak equally with the Crown? Terek demanded in a snarl, his hands ready to wield the bow slung across his back.

I see no Crown, the man countered, trailing his eyes over Alajan's bare head.

With a wave of Jan's hands, the guards pulled their blades away, stepping back as he leaned forward to come to eye level with the prisoner. Terek swayed where he stood, stilling when Malin touched the side of his metal staff to his arm.

I don't think I need a strip of metal to prove my standing. Alajan spoke in low tones. Within a blink his scrith was free, hovering beside the man's neck. Unless it's sharp.

The prisoner's eyes flamed, but his head bowed and his voice cracked beneath defeated layers of grief. Hail, King.

The scrith was sheathed—

As the man pulled forward with a dagger, his shrill voice raised. Beware the Lords you surround yourself with, Crownless One!

With a flash of rebounding light, Terek's long dagger was flying from his fingers; with a familiar melodious whistle, Malin's staff was launched. All as the king sidestepped, jutting out a solid fist, colliding mercilessly into the man's jugular. The prisoner gagged, halting mid-stride as his breathing became paralyzed. Terek's dagger found its mark, plunging into the man's side, through his ribs, puncturing a lung. Malin's staff bit through his heart. Blood erupted from the man's mouth as his screams became gargled, asphyxiating sounds. He fell dead to the floor in a mess of leaking innards and the stench of gore.

Forgive us, sire! the guards cried as one, dropping to their knees, tails tucked between their legs and their hands over their necks in submission, knowing their lives were forfeit.

Jan silently stared at them.

Behead them.

All but the king turned as footsteps echoed through the hall, Caraak's cold voice reaching their ears. The guards looked to the Head Advisor in horror as he seemed to merge from the shadows of the room, but he was smiling cruelly.

No, Alajan ordered, flicking his gaze to the other in a burning glare.

Sire, Caraak began, voice frigid, I think such events call for a thorough cleaning and a heightened sense of—his black eyes landed venomously on Terek—"responsibility. Your Captain has failed you. The very same Captain you pardoned from my judgment of treason on your return. All but snarling in Jan's face, the Head Advisor continued, Allow me to take back my duties as the Host of Court. It has become a matter of your safety."

Alajan's expression was nothing more than murderous as he watched Caraak through narrowed eyes, sparking fire.

Terek, however, was slowly kneeling before Jan. "Behead them? No, my King. Punish me, for they are my responsibility."

Don't be absurd, Malin sniffed, folding his arms, his staff in the crook of his arm. "There is a traitor among the Lords, and the thought of him being you is the stupidest thing I have ever heard. And believe me, I've heard a fair few stupid things in my time."

With his eyes closed, the softest of sighs escaping him, the Crownless King finally whispered, I have widows to take care of. When I am back, and the scholars have been attended to, I want Lord Cedrin here. Looking down to the body at his feet, Jan pressed his lips into a thin line. He can clean up after his pawn.

Lord Cedrin? Caraak laughed harshly. How can you possibly know—? He fell silent at the grim expression on Alajan's face when he slowly looked over to him.

"You, the Crownless King snarled, baring his long fangs, will make yourself disappear for the rest of the day."

Sweeping into a mocking bow, the Head Advisor smirked his way. I live to serve you.

Present

HE WAS ANGRY, JAN CONTINUED, OVER HIS BROTHER'S IMPRISONMENT. Didn't think a life's sentence was justified for murdering his father. He inspected the edge of a dagger with his fingers. "Turns out you offered to help him free his brother if he killed me. I have the strangest hunch that the other Lords were in on the bargain too. Of course, it was only your seal that was found in the traitor's home."

What does this mean for me, Sire?

Consider yourself Caraak's pawn, and nothing more, Alajan growled back, the wild sound rumbling from his chest. I can't think of a worse insult to call you than that. Malin will be replacing you in the Court.

Cedrin stared at him, appalled. B-But my king—!

Don't wet yourself. You can keep your manor. Alajan looked away, bored. But you will burn your robe and let me get on with my life. Step out of line again and I will personally lock you in the Prison House until I feel like letting you out. Crimson eyes shifted back to him. I can promise you that would be an incredibly long time.

Cedrin's fingers instantly flew to the black robe around his shoulders, one all the Lord's wore. Burn my robe?

Jan shrugged, smiling slightly. Malin prefers green.

The Third Lord shook where he stood. You have no authority to remove me from my place! Your coronation has not occurred yet—

I can deal with traitors with no opposition. The other rolled his eyes, perfectly annoyed. Even Caraak knows that. He knows his time is almost up. It's why he's been an even bigger pain in the tail than normal.

Cedrin stiffly lowered into a bow, quivering with anger, before stalking away, his back straight with pride. His footsteps echoed off the walls, and then the slamming of the door as he left the throne room via a side entrance.

Silence reigned for a moment. Then, slowly rising to his feet, the Crownless King began to move.

Walking the edge of the breathtaking hall, he passed a hand from one torch to the next, extinguishing their light, plunging the room into the pale blue glow of twilight entering through the windows. His steps took him, almost without thought, back to the bottom of the stairs leading to the throne. With a heavy gaze, he stood silently and studied it.

Three days until he would be Crowned, with Soniiya at his side.

The room spun beneath him.

Three days until he could remove Caraak, despite the Naliian's loyalty to him, and he would hope to his core that Callorah would not split on herself. The kingdom was already unraveling; Jan's goal to avoid a civil battle was fast becoming impossible. What difference would it make if he were to take away Caraak now? He had been here too long already, and his mind now filtered through every noble, every Lord, every Nalii in the White City, bending and distorting their Will with ease. Was that influence something he wanted to subject his Pack to? He was, after all, the only one who could detect Caraak's presence in his mind.

Well, one of two. But she was far away.

Shedding the robe around his shoulders, as if it had suddenly turned to lead and he could no longer carry it, the Crownless King threw it across the throne's lap. Surprised to find he was trembling where he stood, he turned his back to it, took only one step, and froze as suddenly as if time had paused. A distance from where he stood, from the middle of the large room, burst the faintest flicker, the briefest glimmer of a white flame, dousing out as it danced through the air in a flare, lasting for only a breath of a second.

He, however, stared unblinkingly at the spot, leaning slightly forward.

It sparked again, this time remarkably closer, enduring a little longer—and with it came a surge of sound as quiet as the flame was brief.

Alajan slowly stepped off the stairs, now levelly on the ground.

For the third time the flame arrived, stayed, and divided into countless likewise roaming and ribbon-like flames in a swirling wreath, rapidly approaching the throne with an onslaught of noise like a keening tune. A figure solidified amidst the throbbing light; a figure that was running for him, flickering in and out of view like a candle's flame, her dark hair streaming out behind her shoulders, a white flowing cloth tied around her waist, glinting so vibrantly the shadows were aggressively pressed back.

She ran, and Alajan stared.

The image of Kaleen cried out in agony, reaching out a hand to him, her features full of terror, and the white walls echoed her cry. Jan!

It took no more than a moment, her bright image reflecting off his dark, widened eyes, and then he was rushing forward, his own voice calling back fiercely, Who dares harm you?

She stood in place as he came, shuddering violently, answering, Not me. It's you. Stretching out a hand towards him, she said, Let me help you.

He reached out a hand for her as well—

Like a gust of wind blowing out the candle's flame, she vanished. 

CHAPTER THREE

Parting Ways

ALAJAN

AH. YOU LOOK A LITTLE WORSE FOR THE WEAR, KINGY. Was Court difficult today? I guess I should have been there, being the new Third Lord and all, but Terek and I barely arrived this afternoon.

A sigh responded.

Me and the old man have brought back the report you requested. Malin probed a thumb over his shoulder, indicating to Terek. I'm guessing you can't be away for too long before your absence is noticed. So here it is: The Pack will start heading over in groups to this meeting point. We've got the list for it right here. Malin poked his arm. Oy, what's the matter? He pulled a sour face. Was it the wife?

A raised eyebrow was Jan’s answer for 'yes'.

"When isn't it the wife?" Malin mumbled to himself.

What else is bothering you? Terek called out from where he sat, frowning at the list of names he held.

Jan swatted Malin away from where he was making faces beside him, stepping forward from his leaning position on the wall. Nathorin.

Terek looked up in alarm. What? What's the matter with that kingdom now?

"To borrow Malin's phrasing, what isn't wrong with that kingdom?"

Well, the climate's pretty nice, I've heard. Malin began ticking off fingers. I've also heard—

Not anymore. Coerce has been targeting them, apparently.

"Really? She’s such a pain."

Jan reached into the pocket of his shirt before pulling out a crumpled wad that he threw Terek's way. The Over-Lord has been complaining to me for the past few weeks. Supposedly, Coerce's Hordes have been plaguing them. He's threatening to stop trades if I don't aid them, but of course it's a risk to send even one soldier their way when Coerce is breathing down our own backs. His arms folded, he tapped his fingers against his bicep in thought. Something's bound to happen soon, since she's been hiding from us for the past while. His eyes narrowed. Then that Renegade appears...

Terek's eyes scanned over the hastily scrawled letter. The Over-Lord not making your reign any simpler, is he?

You can't just ignore him? Malin suggested innocently.

Half of Calladon would starve; we're a harsh country, not a harvesting one, save for farther south. You know this, Malin. Alajan's lips twitched. Haven't you read the library through five times already?

Six. And excuse me if I found Nathorin a bland subject and simply discarded the information.

'Bland' would be accurate. Jan began to pace, frowning furiously. I can't ignore them. But I also don't know how severely they're being threatened, if at all. I'll have to answer the Over-Lord's demands personally and find out.

Terek shared a worried look with Malin. You are doing what?

I'm going to Nathorin, alongside your first brigade, Captain. Once I get there, I'm slugging the Over-Lord right in the nose, the king fumed.

Malin's face grew more uneasy. "Wait a minute, here. I'll go and tell him to stuff his big mouth if you'd like because you shouldn't go anywhere. I'll be your ambassador. I'll use direct quotes—cuss words and everything. He gave his best friend a pointed look. And you know how much I detest swearing."

You mean I should give up the chance to get away from Caraak and Soniiya for a while? No way. Alajan donned a mischievous smile aimed at Terek. Are you up for a journey, Terr? He glanced over his shoulder. You won't skin me for dragging him along on another trip so soon, will you Lessa?

Lessa, who held a needle and thread in one hand, a blanket in the other, sitting calmly in the corner, sighed but shook her head. Nilayn sat on the floor beside her, preoccupying a very restless Tevren. Do what you must.

Hey, wait a second! Don't even think of leaving me out! Malin protested, holding up his hands. I offered first.

You won't want to take the offer up because I need someone to go visit my uncle over in the desert. Jan glanced at Malin through the corner of his eye. Perhaps while that someone's there, they could check up on my cousin.

His stallion-tailed companion looked beyond rapturous. Forget Nathorin; you're both on your own. I'm headed to the Barren Lands.

Terek threw his head back and laughed at the smug look Malin received from Jan.

Thank you, kingy, Malin set a hand on his shoulder before lowering his voice, his eyes turning sad. Because at least I can see Rya within a three days' walk.

Jan didn't say anything, pressing his lips together tightly.

You've mentioned Connecting to me before. Have you tried it?

The king nodded his head slowly. Yes. Though I shouldn't.

Why not?

Crimson eyes turned sharp. I have a wife, Malin.

Malin snorted rudely. You and I both know that a Conjoinment without willing participants is all ceremony and not binding.

That doesn't—

The door burst open.

She sendses! Rya sendses! A white blur bounced into the room, ears flopping along with a trailing tail. No sooner had Trizz set paws into the room than he was caught up by Malin, who held him up before his eager face with both hands.

"Well? What's she saying!?" Malin demanded impatiently, all but shaking the startled little creature.

Shoosh! Trizz's ears rose as his eyes glazed over. Letssen Trizz Listen.

RYA

THE DESERT WAS SWELTERING. OBVIOUSLY, IT WAS ALWAYS hot during the day, but today was particularly energy-draining, as if the suns were out for amusement. It all sucked even worse when you had hard work to do.

A film of sticky tan powder coated her fingers, clinging in patches on her face, smearing her arms, and she found it downright irritating because it itched like mad. Grinding her teeth, Rya decided Jan owed her big this time. King or not, her cousin would get an earful regarding what she had been doing