Summerbird's Quest: An Act of Entreaty, #2

By Debi Ennis Binder

Summerbird's magic blooms within her in Emythor, but why does she alone recognize the intensity and unpredictability of her spellcraft? Should her spell-weaving be this enchanting, dancing around and through her, enabling her to cast magic at her merest thought, yet so affected by her emotions that it can be dangerous? Magic clings to her, evolving and changing her in ways that enable her to craft increasingly unusual and formidable magic. Magic, not even her powerful sorcerer-mate, the Otter, can explain. Only after mystic motes awaken within her does Summerbird grasp the truth—no one else has these tiny allies. Her spellcraft is bizarrely different.

As Summerbird and the Otter plan a life away from Emythor's palace, the entity, Treaty, reveals a threat to Emythor and its people. Demon-corrupted Borrea, once a forceful being not unlike Treaty, seeks the pure wellspring of Emythor's magic and will raze everything preventing him from finding it. Summerbird objects when Treaty and the Otter forbid her to use her magic, fearing it will draw Borrea to her and Emythor.

Ignoring her protests that she can help them, the Otter leaves on a mission, while Treaty sends Summerbird and her friends on a quest. As they travel through Emythor's treacherous wildings, constantly facing harrowing events and terrifying creatures, Summerbird wonders—are these deadly incidents a horrific test, or is someone closer to home responsible for their narrow escapes? 

When enthralled warriors attack the travelers, Summerbird must abandon everything she believes in and use her altered magic to ensure the questers survive. She recklessly decimates their assailants; only later is she horrified to realize that not only is she skilled at carnage… she enjoys it.

With the quest behind them, Summerbird is stunned when Treaty tells her she alone can defeat Borrea, especially when her overprotective lifemate concedes. But he is adamant—she will not go alone. With guardians and the Otter at her side and her emotions high, Summerbird is ready to battle—

Until Borrea, who seems to know an abandoned child's pain still lives within Summerbird, makes it personal, sending her emotion-driven magic into a rage. When the demon assumes a familiar countenance, her fortitude wanes. The demon has shaped himself as the one person she may be unable to turn her lethal magic against, and when that visage touches her mind…will the Otter and her motes be enough to save her?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Debi Ennis Binder
• Release date: Nov 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223775881

Debi Ennis Binder

Debi’s books lead into magical worlds and glorious realms, strong, courageous women and men, grumpy griffins, and benevolent dragons, fighting the evil that threatens their worlds. Snarky cats are talkative; however, the sly foxes and crabby imps might switch sides before you know it. Debi’s tales draw you into battles between good and evil, so choose your side carefully. But be warned—things in magical worlds are rarely what they seem to be.

Book preview

Summerbird’s Quest

An Act of Entreaty

Book 2

By Debi Ennis Binder

Front Cover Art by Adriana Musetti Dávila

https://adrianamusettidavila.deviantart.com/

Story © 2023 Debi Ennis Binder—all rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner, including internet usage, without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book contains scenes of consensual sex and gory sword-and-magic battles. It is intended for audiences over 18. Please note that the Færa Mourne’s tale may contain triggers: physical and mental abuse, death in childbirth, and birth defects.

Contact Debi Ennis Binder at https://debiszoo.com

❖11302023❖

BISAC Subject Headings:

FIC009000 FICTION / Fantasy / Dark Fantasy

FIC009020 FICTION / Fantasy / Epic

FIC009090—FICTION / Fantasy / Romantic

To Leandra, who helped me find Emythor

Acknowledgments

My very special thanks to H. M. Holten, a wonderfully talented poet who brought to life an extraordinary riddle for a magical Tree.

I would like to thank Bruce Berg, Jessie Collins, Loretta Dart, Tom Richardson, and Cheryl Ennis for reading and commenting on the first draft of this tale and encouraging me to continue with it. Their insightful suggestions went a long way through creating, writing, rewriting, and arguing. Wasn’t it fun how those times turned into more extended discussions over a paragraph than an entire chapter? But it all finally became a manuscript!

I’d also like to thank Kimi Blake for beta-reading the completed book, though it must have looked insurmountable! Her catches and comments were spot on.

Finally, the antics of my black house-panthers—Anny Catt, Moggy, and PeiWei—weaseled their way into this book in the wily way cats have. Though they crossed the rainbow bridge, I’ll never forget them, and how they helped me create two wonderful cattus.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter Forty-Eight

Chapter Forty-Nine

Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty-One

Chapter Fifty-Two

Chapter Fifty-Three

Chapter Fifty-Four

Chapter Fifty-Five

Chapter Fifty-Six

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Chapter Sixty

Chapter Sixty-One

Chapter Sixty-Two

Chapter Sixty-Three

Chapter Sixty-Four

Chapter Sixty-Five

Chapter Sixty-Six

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Chapter Sixty-Eight

Chapter Sixty-Nine

Chapter Seventy

Chapter Seventy-One

Chapter Seventy-Two

Chapter Seventy-Three

Chapter Seventy-Four

Chapter One

Summerbird Asii dashed deeper into the forest surrounding half of Offuun, the vast palace she’d called home since returning to magical Emythor. Three full moons spread a pale glow over everything, yet offered little help in avoiding the well-known trails, and still less for the spiny scrubs and thornbushes awaiting her if she ventured off the path. The palace’s radiance shone far into the forest, and so, she ran until she could no longer make out its golden glimmer through the trees.

Offuun’s forest was unique, and she dared not take her eyes off her surroundings for long. After a few minutes, she slowed to a trot, then stopped. Her breath steamed around her. The winter had begun its third trimonth, and the bitter cold had passed, but the middle of the night was bleaker than she’d expected.

Layers of leaves, bark, and fallen branches crunched beneath her boots, despite the care she took to tread gingerly. She paused and glanced over her shoulder, listening to the soft rush of leaves, hoping she was far enough into the forest to dissuade her sentinels, the Harn. Her senses assured her no one followed, but she didn’t trust them. The Harn were assassins, and she suspected they were born devious. With that thought, Summerbird took a deep breath and plunged further into the trees.

The nightbirds filled the air with eerie cries, welcoming her to the deep forest. Summerbird drew her hooded cloak closer, nesting deeper within the fur lining. She gave a pleased laugh as she leaned against a giant tree, relishing the smell of the cold, damp air while she waited for her racing heart to slow. The forest was so quiet she was certain she’d hear any sound of footsteps—man or animal—no matter how stealthy the stalker.

More than one overbearing male is going to be angry with me. Summerbird stifled a sudden urge to giggle. Stop that! You don’t want to sound like a child! At four and twenty, and despite having had both a cottage and a successful business by the age of four and ten, she faced a challenge convincing her new family that she wasn’t still a child. She sighed. Getting caught escaping the palace again won’t help.

She tilted her head back, smiled at the circle of three moons, and whispered her thanks to the Goddess. The soft guiding light overhead defined several animal paths. Even Nature favored her daring midnight escape from her bedchamber. With only two days left before departing on Treaty’s quest, her friends should have expected this. After all, sneaking away from the palace was one of her favorite pastimes—and having one of her guardians catch her was her usual reward for being rash. But not this time.

Unlike past escapes, she'd given careful thought to this adventure, including an excellent ruse. It being the middle of the night meant no one was going to leave their warm beds to find her. They’d use magic to seek her and would sense her also in bed.

If only my seeker leaves it at that, she hoped.

A visitor would find a small, green crystal ball on her bed, brimming with magic that emitted a physical sense of Summerbird.

If they catch me, I’ll be quite proud to explain with all innocence that I was practicing my magic.

If Cián or his Harn finds me missing, they’ll know where I am, she told a patch of ferns near her feet, "and they might not come looking for me. But he will want to know why I keep doing this. I have several things to tell that man, the first being my intense dislike of being confined to the palace. For my safety, of all things. She chuckled. At least they’ll finally realize using magic to monitor me won’t work."

Prince Cián d’Aryb, Emythor’s Lord-Protector, and her arrogant, overbearing guardian, wasn’t the only male who would be displeased if he discovered her missing—again.

If only the Otter were here, with me. He’d understand.

The thought sent a pining ache through Summerbird until reality intruded on her thoughts. Did she need to question whether her lover, an unreservedly powerful sorcerer and warrior, would understand why she was alone in the forest in the middle of the night? She sighed.

This wonderfully magical forest is my home, she told a clump of bushes that stared at her. And I don’t care that I had to wait till the middle of the night to slip away. Everyone knows the forest is more beautiful at night. The bushes quivered their agreement.

For all its incredible magic, returning to beautiful Emythor wasn’t as idyllic as she’d always dreamed. Finding herself as Cián’s ward gave her a feeling of elegant imprisonment. He was far too overprotective. And when Cián protected something or someone, he did so with the steadfast help of the Harn.

Why aren’t they out assassinating things instead of always stalking me? she grumbled to a rock. It remained silent.

Summerbird smiled at the rock and then at her contentment as she listened to the nighttime sounds of the dense forest around her. She loved these woods, tucked within high, thick palace walls, more than anything else in her vast new home.

Except for the Otter, who did not live in the palace. On a beautiful night like this, how couldn’t her thoughts turn to her lover? Her life changed far more when she met the Otter than it did when she returned to Emythor. Where was he tonight? What was the mysterious task Treaty had sent him on? When will we be together again? I miss you...your touch—

This was too simple.

Once again, unpleasant reality intruded on her thoughts. She took a deep breath and looked around again. Ever distrustful, her newfound freedom had been too easy, and was now impossible for her to enjoy. Why had no one seemed to realize she’d eluded her warded bedchamber? No one had stopped her. No one was following her—

A small black bundle of fur leaped onto Summerbird’s boots, and she jumped. The catlike creature gazing up at her looked very cross.

Summerbird scowled. Orkey! she hissed. I told you to stay in our room and guard the crystal ball for me!

Orkey’s rounded ears flattened. She looked at her human companion through narrowed emerald eyes. Those eyes, usually shining with intelligence and mischief, gazed at Summerbird and held nothing but reproach. Orkey, with a sweet feline face, four tiny paws, and a magnificent tail, wasn’t a cat. She was massive, magical, and savage—a guardian veiled as small, furry, and adorable—a cattu. She was also far too overprotective...and rarely as angry as now.

Orkey told Summerbird not to go to forest alone, the cattu scolded. Summerbird hid a smile. Orkey’s tiny voice quivered with disapproval. Summerbird never listens to loving companion.

Summerbird pursed her lips. Treaty, the entity responsible for creating magical Emythor, had given cattus the ability to speak. Along with that came an annoying propensity for scolding and criticizing.

Well then, let’s walk together, Summerbird suggested tartly. As she stepped forward, she heard a shrill bark behind her and looked over her shoulder.

Three foxes—a vixen and her half-grown kits—followed her. Behind the foxes lumbered a hedgehog, two grumbling badgers, and several rabbits and squirrels. Summerbird smiled with delight. Animals always followed her, but knowing Orkey was with her, and sensing she wasn’t what she seemed to be, the smaller ones stayed further back. Animals were cannier than people realized.

Continuing to disregard the well-trod paths, Summerbird strode into the forest, the cattu trotting alongside her, the other animals close behind. Summerbird hummed as she led her followers deeper into the woods, walking between massive trees, avoiding thickets of greenery that liked to grab onto those who passed by.

The unusual parade walked for almost a quarter-hour before the light from the three moons vanished behind thick clouds. The sky darkened, the forest closed around her, and Summerbird finally had to stop. She dropped onto a fallen log with a sigh.

Should we try another direction? Summerbird asked Orkey. The human shivered; the air felt thick and damp.

Summerbird is lost. Orkey’s singsong declaration revealed her glee.

Summerbird is not lost. So saying, she cast a fist-sized, pale-blue ball above her; the magical orb floated above her head, generating light around her. I know exactly where I am.

The Otter had taught her how to compact her magic into a small light and send it hovering above her. The ball would lead her wherever she told it to go. He was a practical man, as unusual as his name.

A sudden quiver ran down Summerbird’s back, though not from the cold. He’d also shown her another kind of magic—his lovemaking. Blood rushed to her face; she imagined she felt his touch on her body.

She drew her cloak closer to her. Where was her mysterious lover tonight? Summerbird had been with him in this forest months earlier and would never forget the experience of two massive cattus—she and the Otter—running with wild abandon. She’d thought his magic transmuted her into a golden cattu to join his black one until he told her such protective magic came from within. He’d become her lover that day, which was far more exciting than being a cattu.

Her smile faded, and she sighed. The Otter had also told her to stay out of the forest alone. I can persuade him to forgive me if he finds me here.

Summerbird is well-pleased for being lost Summerbird, Orkey muttered abruptly. Orkey is happy in palace. Where soft, warm bed is.

I know. You always miss our bed, Summerbird retorted as she rose and started walking in another direction. But I have a right to be pleased with myself. Since coming to Emythor, it’s been ‘learn this, practice that.’ But I crafted a new magic tonight—wholly my idea and my spellcraft. Surely, creating magic that belongs only to me is exceptional.

Another wave of excitement washed through her. The spellwork she’d devised to help her slip away still thrilled her. She didn’t need the approval of others to know her magical distraction was ingenious. But she would have liked to share it with the Otter.

Orkey still does not favor, grumbled the cattu. Summerbird should not use magic to deceive family.

Yes, dear Orkey, I know. The young woman stopped. Come ride in my hood. You may scold me much easier from there.

Orkey huffed, but she agreed. Summerbird pushed her hood back, scooped the cattu into her arms, and placed her on her shoulder. Orkey jumped into Summerbird’s hood, nestled into the fur, and wrapped her long, sweeping tail around her body.

They walked in silence for a while until Summerbird jostled Orkey. I want Cián to ask me why I stole out against their dire warnings. I’ll tell him why! How can he deny me this incredible world right outside my door? Especially after I told him how much I’d resented the laws in Isterr that suddenly appeared prohibiting the woods to anyone who lived in the bazaar.

Summerbird did not obey rules then either, Orkey muttered into her tail.

Summerbird ignored her companion, raising her arms and turning in circles, singing off-key...but who cared?

Orkey dug her claws into Summerbird’s hood. Orkey is wabbly, the cattu mumbled, shaking her head.

You’re supposed to care that I’m happy for now, the human returned. I should be happy all the time. After all, I have a wonderful—

She broke off. She’d almost said, lover. The Otter remained her secret; he and Orkey had yet to meet.

A small bench made of smooth stone came into view. Someone had scattered the seats throughout the vast woods, reminding visitors this wasn’t a solitary forest. Summerbird plopped onto it, wincing at the cold.

Ryordin Asii, her grandfather, had taken Summerbird to non-magical Isterr as a babe, though she still did not know why. She’d grown up in the mundane realm, terrified of having her bloodline discovered. "Is it possible that after having to hide my magic all my adult life, being terrified I’d be discovered and imprisoned, that Emythor is dull by comparison?" she mused.

Miffin Griffin had returned her to Emythor to perform a task for him. If she freed Cián d’Aryb, the Emythoran Lord-Protector, and his realm lords from an enchanted castle, Miffin would find her a place to live in Emythor. She’d never dreamed that place would be the Emythoran palace.

Stepping into the realm lifted the magical veil that had given her a pleasing countenance in Isterr. Summerbird’s face and body altered from an ordinary young woman to something the Otter called enchantingly exotic. He told her she was beautiful, though she doubted that. But she hadn’t known him at that time and had reacted to her changes with explosive anger. Nothing made sense to her at first. How could Miffin think she’d be happy in this strange world?

Rescuing the Fey highborn proved far more effortless than expected, and she’d been delighted when the once-doubtful men helped her on her first steps to learning her magic. Cián—who was, she learned, a prince of the realm—took her to Offuun, Emythor’s royal palace and declared it her home. Cián had provided her with magnificent chambers larger than her cottage had been, more clothes than she knew what to do with, and people who didn’t hesitate to tell her with genuine affection how they remembered her as a babe.

Once alone in her massive bedroom, Summerbird felt lost. Why had Cián done so much for her? Would she ever feel at home here? At that moment, she wondered if she should return to her cottage and life as a lonely foreseer trapped in a bazaar with evil castle guards.

And then, she walked outside her bedchamber onto her balcony, and the first magical thing happened to her. A beautiful garden filled the area created by four towers. Beyond that—

Summerbird would never forget the first time she realized an immense forest awaited her outside her bedchamber. Dark even on the brightest day and wild enough for palace residents to haunt and hunt throughout the year, the woodland drew Summerbird to it from her first glimpse.

The formidable Fey think they embody the realm’s magic, but they’re mistaken. True magic is a forest growing within the walls of my new home.

Cián appreciated her delight and invited her to enjoy the forest whenever she wished. He described the animal paths, many ending at small ponds where she could hide and watch the animals drink. The more she heard of the idyllic world Cián had created on his side of the palace, the more eager Summerbird was to visit.

She ventured into the forest, prepared to make it a perfect place for adventures, but bizarre things happened that afternoon. She walked deep into the woods, seeking a pond to wait for animals, but she met a mysterious woman who said she’d known Summerbird’s mother. They sat on a bench near a pond and just as Summerbird's suspicions stirred, a large, vicious creature attacked her. A vixen had helped Summerbird hide, and she’d escaped the beast.

The young foreseer reached up and ran her hand down Orkey’s back, smiling when the cattu started purring.

The memory was fresh and terrifying, but she still had mixed emotions about that day. Because she was honest about the frightening incident, she wasn’t permitted to venture into the forest alone. Cián regretted such restrictions, he assured her, but he remained firm. An unknown beast was dangerous to all. At least it gave the Harn something else to pursue.

However, the Otter had rescued her, and they’d become lovers. If she saw him more often, perhaps she’d not miss the forest as much.

Why don’t they understand? she whispered. She had defended herself well enough, even if no one else knew she had the Otter’s help. How could they deny me what I love most about Offuun? The Otter didn’t live in Offuun, so he didn’t count.

Those words earned her an unflattering snort from Orkey.

The cattu’s opinion didn’t matter to Summerbird right now. She intended to enjoy her last traipse through the forest while meeting only animals and avoiding discovery.

Orkey is sleepy, her small companion mumbled after a few minutes. Summerbird should go back to bed.

Not yet. She sighed. Orkey, whenever I fall asleep, I dream about Svar Blackwood chasing me. And it’s not for an honorable reason. I don’t want to go back to bed.

Cián will not approve, Orkey predicted glumly. Cián will tell Summerbird to go back to bed. With Orkey.

The overbearing cattu amused Summerbird. While living in Isterr, Summerbird hadn’t known the magically veiled cattu could speak, but Orkey had always fussed over Summerbird like an old nursemaid. Her personality hadn’t changed, but Summerbird loved talking to her.

Forest has not always been safe for Summerbird, Orkey pointed out. Orkey knows Summerbird does not want to go questing.

You know, you’re grumpy, Summerbird pointed out. I was just thinking about that. No, I don’t like the idea of a quest, but I look forward to seeing the world beyond Offuun and Darkleaf. I want to explore, to see all that Treaty’s boundless magic has built. And I want to meet other genera of Fey.

Orkey mumbled something.

Once this quest is over, I’m returning to Darkleaf, Summerbird muttered and scuffed a heap of dead leaves with her boot. The animals converged on the pile, looking for insects.

Summerbird loved Darkleaf, Miffin’s castle home. Something had drawn her to the dark little structure from her first moments there. She’d been happy, but not surprised, to learn she’d been born there.

I’m too eager to sleep right now, Summerbird decided. Treaty is sending us on a quest because of some Evil Thing. How can the others be so eager to leave Offuun and its safety?

Orkey will miss soft bed, said the cattu morosely.

Summerbird finally had to laugh. I know, dear Orkey. You genuinely love that enormous bed—

Summerbird broke off. Her creation rested atop the warm lacy quilts of that bed, waiting for someone to discover it. Would they even appreciate its magical complexity?

She sighed. Orkey, I tried to be Fey. Cián insisted I appear at the Fey Court and take part in meals and galas there. I tried to fit in, but I can’t, nor do I wish to. They don’t trust me to be obedient and remain within the palace— She stopped her bitter tirade. Only Cián or Elodie might take the time to confirm I’m where I’m supposed to be.

The Otter somehow always knew where she was. She suspected that he alone understood why Summerbird felt trapped in the palace and had to get away, if only for a few hours.

Once I was told I couldn’t visit the forest, she said absently, it became like a game. I was determined to escape my room undetected.

Dangerous game, Orkey muttered. Magic is new.

I protest, dear Orkey! When I began learning my magic, I never expected to absorb it so intensely or grasp the methods of my spellcraft with little more than a thought. She smiled and gave a little laugh. I admit I almost panicked the first time I felt those eerie ley-lines travel through my body.

She feigned a shudder, and Orkey snickered. But Summerbird spoke the truth. The rivers of magical energy far below the terra still felt like something alive within her.

She wasn’t aware then that the amount of magic she assimilated was extraordinary, only that it could often be uncomfortable.

I decided that after multiple attempts to make Cián and Heny believe I wasn’t in any danger in the forest...and after fruitless efforts to escape and explore on my own, I had decided it was time to be cunning rather than reckless.

Heny, the Harn commander, was almost as overprotective as Cián’s. She had to have a plan.

SUMMERBIRD HAUNTED Cián’s library, reading and turning ideas around in her head, seeking a means to mislead the powerful magic of her new family. In the end, she resorted to her old ways. She had earned her living in Isterr as a foreseer. Law prohibited magic, but she felt obligated to give her fortune-seekers something for the pittance they paid her. The young woman had learned what she needed about others by haunting the bazaar where she lived, listening, and observing.

Once she returned to Emythor and her spellcraft blossomed, she constantly felt magic around her, in people, and especially in Nature. As she watched the inhabitants of Emythor, she saw the Fey using magic, but only that which used very little energy. Emythor took its due—an equal amount of power for magic used—to maintain its protective enchantment. Sly questions told her that should any of her sentinels want to ensure Summerbird’s safety during the night, they, loathe to leave their beds, would use magic to find her, as it took very little to determine her whereabouts.

After the attack on her by an unknown creature, Summerbird insisted she’d be safe in the forest were she more careful. After all, she’d learned her magic, hadn’t she? Soon after, Cián and his friends feigned an attack to prove to her that her magic wasn’t adequate to defend her. Summerbird met the magical attack head-on, intuitively using her emotionally explosive magic to protect herself. The men had suffered significant cuts, scrapes, and bruises, but had they not been wearing enchanted cloaks to protect them, they might have suffered far worse.

Both encounters led Summerbird to realize her magic was different. She didn’t know why, only that her emotions strengthened hers. Summerbird soon realized that she and the Otter, no matter the extent of spellwork used, gave no energy to Emythor when they could have helped maintain Emythor’s magic far better than anyone else. But strangest, only she and the Otter had motes—the tiny bits of magic that lived within them.

Summerbird affected the elements in ways her tutors didn’t. She didn’t understand how or why until a mysterious, shadowy man appeared in her bedchamber and told her that her magic was different, and she wasn’t being taught what her kind of magic needed. He also kissed her. And that was how Summerbird met the Otter.

When he later showed her how to see everything around her, not merely affect it, she saw as though he lifted a fog from her eyes. The hidden world opened to reveal its inner self. Her magic unfurled when she ventured untethered into Nature, and Nature responded. Her motes helped her as Summerbird grasped Nature’s foundation, the heart of life—elements—as no Fey could.

Learning to mesh the elements with her magic became the basis of her spellcraft, filling her so rapidly and intensely that sometimes it caused her head to throb. What she could do with that ability followed, and from then on, magic was never far from her fingertips—magic the Otter and Treaty constantly warned her must stay veiled from anyone else.

Summerbird thought about the Otter as she stood alone in Cián’s massive library, gazing at more books than she’d ever seen. This was, she realized, an ideal time to test her clever lover’s assurance—your magic knows what you need. Let it seek for you.

She closed her eyes and sent out her feathery motes, asking them to find what she needed. Within moments, they led her to an enormous old book, impossible to lift from its shelf. Her magic resolved that problem as well.

As soon as she settled in a comfortable chair, she sent a small, glowing pale-blue ball bursting forth. It rose over her head, the simplest expression of her spellcraft. It was useful, but she used the magic because the Otter had shown her how to do it. Just seeing it made her happy.

She opened the book. For less than a heartbeat, the spidery writing was unknown to her. A wave went through the page, chills crawled down her back, and the words changed. When her motes fluttered around her, she breathed a sigh and relaxed. She wasn’t imagining things.

Thank you, dear motes, she whispered, already pouring over the pages, and scarcely noticing when her helpers vanished back into her.

Delving into Cián’s books failed to help her find what she needed until she sat back, closed her eyes, splayed her hands atop the large book, and pressed her magic into it. Nothing came, but she waited, unwilling to give up. Her motes stirred within her; she calmed them.

Something calls to me here, dear motes...yet it’s also trying to hide from me.

The pages shifted beneath her hands. She jerked away, but the crackly paper pulled her back. She closed her eyes then and sensed what the long-gone spellmakers refused to reveal for others to see. It made no sense to her. Frustration rushed through her until she bent and peered at the page.

A slow smile widened her lips. She could almost see a mage sitting in a chair somewhere, long ago, bent over this book. The writer couldn’t help but exhibit their well-earned self-importance, yet dangerous wisdom must be hidden from the unworthy. Summerbird chuckled. They were so clever, hinting at the what and how. They didn’t leave exact directions, but they left enough.

Leaving Cián’s library, Summerbird walked around Towers Garden outside her chambers, collecting the basic elements she might require. As she walked, she sent magic out, eager to explore her surroundings in a new way.

She hesitated almost immediately, sensing a presence. Someone stood at the forest’s edge. Summerbird sent her magic out, brushing against the watcher. Imbret Sonnur—the Harn commander’s younger brother—was watching her, likely to ensure she didn’t dart into the forest. She chuckled—what to do?

Her sudden appearance, peering around the giant tree at Imbret, startled him. The big man reddened as he gaped at her. Imbret, like Heny, had long blond hair braided back from an attractive, rough-hewn face, and icy blue eyes. He was far more intelligent than he wanted anyone to know, but he had to follow orders. And those orders were, unfortunately, to keep her from her beloved forest.

Do you think a rock starts its life as dirt? she asked.

What are you talking about? he asked warily, looking around, likely to ensure no one had seen her detect him so easily.

Summerbird held a small rock in her palm and passed her hand over it. What remained was fine sand. Imbret’s soaring eyebrows shot up.

It’s dirt now, she pointed out. I returned it to its natural element. At least the element we can see.

She dusted off her hands and looked around. The elements are everywhere, Imbret, even if we don’t notice them. A rock is only dirt. Tree bark contains the plant’s elements, as well as tiny creatures. And water and clouds are the same, yet different. She smiled up at his confused face. If I ever teach anyone magic, the world will open to them. I’m going back to my room now if you want to leave. I’d never tell Heny I caught you.

Imbret nodded, cautiously took her small hand, and patted it.

Summerbird wanted to laugh, but she only smiled at him. The Harn were fond of her in a ‘We’re beasts, but can be nice if we try hard,’ way. At least Imbret would stand near her now. Early in her days at Offuun, Cián, the realm lords, and a tutor, had spent time with her, teaching her what she should have learned from early childhood. Her magic often went awry, soaking or shredding the clothing of anyone nearby, for water and wind were her dominant elements. She fondly remembered those times and her patient teachers, able to at last tell herself that a young and lonely foreseer had found her home.

She returned to her room, thinking about Cián’s library. What she took from the construction of old spells led her to envision how to take the essentials from what she’d gathered from the garden.

Summerbird didn’t have a spellroom, but she had a lovely, enormous bathroom. Orkey jumped from the bed and joined her companion, but as soon as she realized what Summerbird was going to do, she leaped to the top of the small wardrobe.

Do you think Cián would let me have a small spellroom? Summerbird wondered as she blended aspects of her finds with her odd magic. Once she ensured everything was just so, the elemental mixture flowed through her fingertips and into her crystal ball.

She’d sighed, wishing the Otter could share what she’d done, but its purpose wouldn’t make him happy. In fact, he’d be angry. But knowing that hadn’t been enough to make her abandon her cause.

SUMMERBIRD TUCKED AWAY her memories and resumed walking deeper into the forest. She had an uneasy feeling that her lover’s potent magic would sense her deception, and he’d find her long before she returned to her rooms.

Her steps slowed as guilt washed over her, and she stopped. Orkey had won—her words made Summerbird sorry for misleading Cián and Elodie. Elodie had been her mother’s dearest friend, and now, the sprite was like a mother to Summerbird, once again giving her the love she’d lacked for many years. But Elodie also smothered her, always nearby—

A sharp shriek cut through Summerbird’s reverie, washing over her like icy water. She extinguished her light and whirled around, eyes seeking the source of the haunting sound. Strangely, Orkey didn’t move within her hood.

After a few moments, Summerbird relaxed, calmed by familiar forest sounds around her. Nightbirds called out, and the animals, sent scampering into the brush by her startled movement, reemerged and gathered around her feet.

Summerbird looked around, then recalled the glowing light above her head.

I can’t use you to gauge my safety, she told the little faces gazing up at her. You feel safe with me.

The vixen gave a sad little bark. Could she be the same fox that had tried to help Summerbird when that horrifying creature attacked her only a few days earlier? She bent closer to her and ran her hand down her back—no, this fox was smaller than the one that had helped Summerbird. She scratched the vixen's ears. It hadn't mattered, for Summerbird had become lost trying to elude her attacker, until the Otter rescued her. She hadn’t remembered until much later that the forest had also been as silent as a tomb.

As though to chase away the terrifying memory, a burst of colorful energy surged from Summerbird and surrounded her. Her motes fluttered like myriad-colored butterflies around her, making her smile.

She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as her smile faded. The motes, gifted to her by Treaty, weren’t there just to comfort her. They were another protection, first surfacing when an unknown entity attacked while she was trying to leave Isterr.

She gazed at a branch, swaying in the breeze, relishing a memory that still had the power to frighten her, yet would always be just as uplifting—the night she got her first sense of the magic Emythor offered her.

Mere steps from entering the Færa Ring—the pathway from Isterr into Emythor—something had attacked Summerbird and Kealan, the Isterran man with her...and something else saved them.

She could still feel the sudden hush in the forest when a vibrant, golden, amorphous being burst into the Færa Ring, sending the evil being within Kealan fleeing. The copse pulsed with the force of the entity’s magic.

When he moved closer to Summerbird, she forced herself not to cringe as a feathery bit of him reached for her. Her knees shaking, she swallowed, but didn’t back away, no matter how much she wanted to. A gentle, bubbling voice filled the copse.

"Dear child, you must always feel safe and wanted in Emythor, for it is your home."

Seeing Miffin’s stunned face and hearing those weird, unnatural-sounding words, she realized the magnitude of what had happened.

Treaty— Miffin’s whisper stunned her.

Her grandfather’s words filled her head. His time with young Summerbird had been short; she remembered every moment. The utter awe in his voice when he told her bedtime tales of the infinitely powerful entity who created Emythor still vibrated within her.

And that entity had rescued her.

Yet his words, despite feeling so vast, were kind and serene, and Summerbird felt as though she’d fallen into a warm, safe cloud. That feeling faded when intense heat brushed her; she drew in a sharp breath, jerking her arm away.

Had the entity touched her? Had she done something wrong? What was she—

Summerbird’s body stiffened before her brain realized something touched her. A sensation followed—what was it? A soft buzz—and then she realized it felt like thousands of bees had enveloped her.

She’d looked down and screamed. Terror had engulfed her. Myriad fragments—living bits of diverse colors—had swarmed against her skin.

Dear Goddess, her hands shook, driven by the overwhelming urge to scrape the minuscule things off her. Before she could act—

She stared at her body in horror as the tiny things melted into her. Another scream welled up within her, cut off when she sensed the entity. She jerked her head up to see Treaty’s golden form, so close—was he going to swallow her? Lightheaded, unable to breathe, she wavered on her feet, until a soft, fluttery voice sounded in her head.

Dearest Summerbird, please do not fear me or your motes. They are you and forever yours.

He must have touched her, despite his heat, for the physical responses to her terror vanished. Her chest expanded as she breathed in cold air, and her body straightened as strength poured into her. Her mind and soul were again tranquil and attentive. When she experienced movement within her, she wasn’t afraid. Only curious.

A feathery touch brushed her ear.

I will never come without asking. Now, stay calm, my child. Close your eyes and listen. You will understand. Her lips parted. The bubbly, sweet voice was in her head. Treaty had spoken within her! He moved away, leaving Summerbird to reach for him.

When a murmur unexpectedly filled her head—humming like hundreds of voices—panic once again touched Summerbird. She stiffened, but remembered Treaty’s last words. Close your eyes and listen. She forced herself to relax.

Summerbird did understand. He hadn’t meant for her to listen to him. She squeezed her eyes shut, and the murmur returned. What was the sound? What did it mean?

I don’t understand you—and then she did.

And the next magical thing happened to her.

The precious bits spoke to her—we are your motes. We will always come to your aid, dearest Summerbird. That was intriguing, but how did she ask for their help?

A tinkle of merriment from within touched Summerbird. She felt the urge to join her motes’ glee as endless bits of colors and minute shards rose from her body. A feathery section of Treaty reached out to her again but didn’t touch her.

Welcome home, my dear child.

ORKEY’S LOUD PURR PULLED Summerbird from the past, comforting her human companion, just as the cattu had done that night. A shaky smile touched her lips. Her motes were murmuring to her. Were they admonishing her for reliving that memory or trying to soothe her?

Or were her motes warning her to pay closer attention to her surroundings? She shook her head—why can’t I seem to leave the past behind tonight?

Since stepping into Emythor, Summerbird’s life had changed at an unsettling pace. She still didn’t understand why Treaty gave her such a remarkable gift as her motes, but she never questioned him.

Her body quivered with sudden happiness; she wasn’t alone with her unique magic. The Otter wielded formidable magic like hers in many unusual ways. He assured her he’d teach her more magic once the quest was over and he’d returned from performing Treaty’s task. She looked forward to that day with an impatience that made her blush.

What if golden Treaty now seeks Summerbird? Orkey’s words, though muffled, were emphatic.

Dammit, Orkey!

Summerbird huffed, and she stopped again. Treaty would be distressed if he found a crystal ball instead of her. Her shoulders drooped in frustration.

You’ve succeeded, dear Orkey, she muttered. But you don’t understand everything. I shouldn’t have been foolhardy and come into the forest alone. But I— She broke off. How was she supposed to explain to the cattu that she refused to go back to sleep to dream about evil sorcerers lusting after her?

Practice magics, came Orkey’s practical advice. In bedroom.

Summerbird chuckled. What a stubborn being the cattu was.

The spellwork I set in my crystal ball would prove to anyone I’ve been practicing, she pointed out. I’m sure Treaty would find it as ingenious as I do. He’s strange in that way. And he has many things to worry about other than me.

As soon as those words left her lips, fresh guilt engulfed her. Treaty had so much to be anxious about—evil, insidious things threatening Emythor—and she shouldn’t give him more. Those concerns were why the entity had charged Elodie and Cián with protecting the impulsive Summerbird.

If Treaty discovered her trick, he might radiate brilliant gold—he wasn’t a corporeal being—showing his appreciation for her clever use of magic. But he’d also reach out to her guardian to intervene.

Cián wouldn’t find her ruse amusing at all. Likely, he would send out the Harn to look for her. The brawny assassins were her friends; however much she was sure they regarded her not only as fragile but witless. Reckless Summerbird, once again in the woods, alone? Let’s find her, bring her home, and give her to Elodie to tuck into bed.

She sighed. They wouldn’t be happy with her either. She didn’t enjoy deceiving her family and friends, but sometimes she felt they gave her no choice.

Summerbird frowned. She’d spent an entire day working out her plan, then concentrating on how to make the spellwork come together. And now, she was trying to soothe her conscience over the plan’s success. She knew she shouldn’t be out here giving anyone or anything a chance to harm or capture her.

She stopped and listened around her again.

The small animals following her—the two fox kits, a young badger, and a dark, ermine-like creature she didn’t recognize—also stopped and tumbled together. Summerbird pressed her lips together, hiding her smile, and shook her head.

Once again, if you are the measure of my attention to safety, I’m failing miserably.

The clouds passed, and the circle of three moons brightened the surrounding forest. Summerbird took a deep breath, ready to move on. Being warm and comfortable almost made the cold weather tolerable. She was well-armed—two boot daggers and across her back, a slender black sword gifted to her by Orindn, the younger dæmon lord who was one of her tutors and her friend.

She and Orindn had practiced with the blade, drawing, thrusting, and slicing, then stopping to discuss her mistakes. And then they’d begin again. She felt confident with her black sword, but the Otter had warned her never to waste time drawing it against magic.

I’d like to practice with him, she murmured aloud, scarcely audible, unwilling to speak his name aloud in front of Orkey. The most magnificent magical thing I found in Emythor.

She loved watching and touching his body—his broad, muscular back and shoulders, powerful arms, and long legs. The hard muscles on his chest led to a hard, bumpy stomach. And further down, between iron-muscled thighs, his ample means of pleasure. Warmth spread through her body, spurred by lustful thoughts about the man she loved. She sighed, wondering how much time would pass before she heard his rough yet gentle voice again.

Dreaming about the Otter is far better than walking, isn’t it?

She wasn’t sure which she yearned for more—the muted menace he sometimes exuded, the security he represented, or his big, beautiful body next to hers. She’d known nothing about male bodies before the Otter, yet her female instinct told her his was perfect, with a breathtaking face, a teasing, dimpled grin and for her alone—fiery red flames in his star-cast, night-black eyes. Even now, her body yearned for the special magic that made her flame at his touch—male magic, with the power to make her blood sing and her body glow with passion.

She blinked. Goddess, she needed to be careful! Lost in passionate memories might have her walking into a tree. She looked around and chuckled. She’d turned away from the deep forest and started walking back toward the palace.

I suppose the time has come for me to stop being as wayward and irresponsible as you believe I am, Orkey.

Make portal to bedroom, came Orkey’s sleepy suggestion.

I can’t, Summerbird returned. Everyone in the palace with a decent amount of magic would sense it.

She gazed up at the moons and took a deep breath. She glanced over her shoulder—the procession of animals now trailing behind her had doubled.

Orkey gave another snort. Summerbird wandered down a path for a while longer, trying to convince herself she was ready to return to the palace.

She veered off the path onto a narrow animal trail she could just see. Eventually, it led to a small pond near the main pathway that started in the garden and wound through the forest.

She sank onto a small, roughly hewn bench near the pond, yet another reminder that humans were never far away.

Orkey is right. I should be in bed resting for tomorrow.

Several small animals tumbled together near her feet. The lithe black creature stood apart from them, standing on its back legs and watching her with dark, inquisitive eyes. What sort of creature was this? His fur was black and shone like silk, and he had small hands that looked almost human. She made a soft, squeaky noise while Orkey huffed with the indignation only a cattu could muster.

Who are you? she whispered to the creature. I’ve never seen you before. You’re adorable!

The animal made an odd, high-pitched sound and dropped to the ground. Summerbird watched him dart into the forest.

She gazed at the tiny fountain that bubbled in the pond. Having her friends guarding her was tiresome, as though an ogre might step out from behind a tree and eat her.

But she had responsibilities. She needed to join the others tomorrow to plan the quest. She realized she didn’t want Cián to discover her spellcraft on the bed. And she didn’t want a smug assassin to bring her back to the palace like an errant child.

And by now, they might not be the only ones seeking her. She sighed again. Should the Otter discover where she was, his wrath would be unnerving. The fire in his eyes was thrilling, but not when it embodied anger. She wanted to see it because he desired her. It was time to return to the palace.

She jostled Orkey again. "Wake up and talk to me. It’s time to return—

Summerbird froze with the awareness of something behind her. A fierce, forceful growl—conveying the impression of size—sent icy fear slashing through her.

Chapter Two

It was later that he’d planned when the Otter completed his last task of the day—sneaking his charmed black horse into the palace stables to ensure he was on hand for the trip north. He scowled as he opened a doorway to return to his tower. The ease with which he had led the animal into Cián’s stables with no one noticing warranted a conversation with the Harn commander about security—or lack of it. He was anxious enough about Summerbird’s safety; this only worsened the situation.

No one sensed his magic, unless he intended they should. Tonight, he did not.

The Otter caught the last ring of midnight when he slipped into his tower, ready for something to eat and then, finally, some sleep. Lately, he found he needed to exhaust himself before he could sleep without Summerbird next to him.

Neither Janon, his black cattu, nor Myt, his abrasive imp companion, were to be found. They were likely out hunting together or had joined Armáne Fernlen, one of his few friends, at Darkleaf.

The Otter dug around in the food cupboard for bread and cheese. He found a bit of dried meat in the larder and, along with ale, threw together a meal. He ate fast, scarcely tasting the food.

The moons were high in the sky when he climbed to the top of the tower, to the room he and Summerbird shared when they could. As he stripped off his tunic, preparing for a quick wash, a faint, bell-like sound echoed in his head, startling him.

Treaty sought him. The big man sighed and pulled his tunic back over his head.

Following the entity’s magical trail, the Otter emerged from his shadowy doorway and stopped, bewildered.

Why, in the name of the gods, was Treaty in Summerbird’s bedchamber? Why was her bed empty? Another man would have rushed forward, alarmed, but the Otter and Summerbird sensed each other so intimately that it often felt as though they’d already had a formal Joining. He would have known if she was in danger. The Otter felt nothing alarming from his mate, so he waited.

Treaty stood by her bed. Before the Otter could say anything, Summerbird’s lingering fragrance distracted him. He took a deep breath; desire still flooded his body as he relived the first time he’d kissed Summerbird here, tasted her sweet mouth, felt her confusion beneath the sensation of her body next to his. He closed his eyes. It was no use; he couldn’t concentrate—

I need to get control of myself.

Forcing her presence from his head, he padded into the room, only to stop and stare at the bed, empty but for her green crystal ball. Disquiet stirred in the big man. Who had placed the ball there? What did it mean?

He glanced at Treaty, then looked back. Icy fingers of apprehension crept down his spine. The glimmering entity burned with displeasure. The Otter didn’t know why Treaty was there, but he suspected neither expected to find Summerbird’s bed empty. Where was she, and why hadn’t Orkey—

The man halted mid-thought. Intense uneasiness rushed through him as an unsettling question erupted in his head.

Why does Treaty think I know where to find Summerbird in the middle of the night?

The Otter gave the entity another tense glance. Before Summerbird had returned to Emythor, Treaty had requested the Otter not make himself known to her, and the Otter had abided by that wish—at first. But he wondered then and still did. Why were Treaty and Miffin so intent on keeping them apart?

Well, he’d done far more than make himself known to her, hadn’t he? He knew her very well now—enough to get him half aroused just by smelling her scent. Did Treaty know of their relationship?

A wise man would tread warily, say nothing, and wait to see what happened. He scowled at his own foolishness. This is Treaty. He knows. And I’ve never feared him.

Had the entity thought the Otter wouldn’t wonder about his strange request not to meet Summerbird Asii? Watching her from afar, the Otter sensed something different about her magic. Ignoring his curiosity was always a challenge for young Otter, and the adult was just as inquisitive.

When she returned to Emythor, crafty Miffin asked the Otter to pose as the Body and help Summerbird around Darkleaf. I should have refused. I knew she was an irresistible draw from the first time I laid eyes on her.

He followed her to Offuun, where he watched her practice magic from a distance until he realized that nothing Armáne was teaching would help her control or even comprehend her arcane magic. He appeared in this very room to tell her that.

Summerbird, too close to him, was wary, yet drawn to him, and she fascinated the Otter. At that point, he was still intent on staying away from her. He gritted his teeth and delivered his message.

And then their hands touched. The room changed.

Do you see them?

Summerbird was stunned, her eyes dancing with the magic surrounding them. He didn’t reply or even acknowledge that he saw what she did—an explosion of myriad shapes and colors filling the room, frolicking above them as they tried to pull the two humans into a strange and joyous celebration.

The Otter knew at once what he was looking at—a message he could not ignore. A wordless missive from the ancient Elementals, a declaration that, sometime in the future, Fate would intervene in Summerbird Asii’s and Ùilteine DiCörtr’s lives.

He should have left...but he couldn’t. He had grabbed that invitation from Fate and ran with it, taking Summerbird to his tower the first change he had got and giving her the chance to decide their future. She had given the gift of her love so sweetly, yet so passionately—

The Otter stiffened his shoulders. It didn’t matter if Treaty knew about their bond. The entity called him because he needed the Otter’s help. Now and without questions.

Summerbird’s crystal ball was aglow, alive with her magic. The Otter grabbed it. The unexpected heat startled him, but he knew what she’d done as soon as he touched the ball.

He needed nothing more than her emotive essence to realize she’d altered the crystal to duplicate her magic, and then he had to hide a grin. He didn’t know how she’d done it, but two things were certain—she had magic others could only dream about, and she was delightfully devious.

The Otter shook his head; his large hands swallowed the crystal ball, and it responded to him at once. Her magic always recognized him; it swept around him, a caress as gentle and heated as its whisperer.

Try as he might, he couldn’t stop a grin from spreading across his face as he remembered the vibrant, colored shapes dancing above them, created by their lovemaking—a gift from the Elementals. It wasn’t that memory that sent heat swirling through his body, but what he and Summerbird were doing the second time they received it.

The Otter sensed Treaty’s curiosity as the entity drifted closer, and he shoved the scene from his head. Treaty couldn’t read his thoughts unless the Otter let him, but by the gods—

Treaty won’t need to delve into my head to feel the pure lust I’m emitting.

He focused again on the crystal ball. Less than an hour had passed since Summerbird had poured her magic into the crystal ball and left the palace. He wouldn’t need hunting skills to find her. Despite not having a formal Joining, their connection became sounder each time they made love, when he knew her as only a man could a woman, forming a physical, emotional, and magical link.

She wasn’t far from the Towers Garden. She wasn’t frightened or hurt. But the ball had more to tell him.

I sense happy mischief. Summerbird went for a walk in the forest, knowing how her guardians—and I—would react if any of us noted her absence. He chuckled. In Emythor, as in Isterr, she only wants to elude her captors.

We aren’t your jailers, my sweet, he murmured, then clamped his lips shut.

It was too late; Treaty had heard him. The glimmering, cloud-like essence shimmered and sidled closer to the Otter. Treaty stopped; his graceful amorphous body fluttered, darkened for a moment, then radiated surprised curiosity.

Only one who knew Treaty as the Otter did would understand what the entity was expressing— I don’t recognize the man before me.

The Otter chuckled. At least he’d averted Treaty from asking about his slip of the tongue.

He had been Treaty’s Vessel more than once, and however brief those times were, he now knew that Treaty saw things far differently than humans did. When Treaty moved close to the Otter, the entity realized the man didn’t look like himself. Otter turned a full circle, struck a pose, and Treaty’s glow brightened and emitted something akin to amusement. A gentle touch brushed his ear—Treaty requesting to talk to him.

Yes, the Otter replied.

Why must you look thus? The entity’s odd, bubbly voice filled the Otter’s head, reflecting his bewilderment. Why must you mislead others as my guide, Ùilteine?

The entity was one of the very few who used his clan name. The name he’d chosen to use as the quest guide.

Surely you remember the history between Cián and me, as well as the others, the Otter replied quietly. The guise I took so long ago was merely another aspect of myself. If I’m to help you, they must not know who I am.

A moment passed. Yes, I remember. I now understand why you must appear thus, though I regret it must be so. I scarcely grasp how deception can help you, dear Ùilteine, but you know the Fey better than I. You will be careful.

Yes, of course, I will. And I will guard Summerbird with my life.

As she will guard you, no doubt. The entity radiated amusement again, then stood glimmering, as though considering what to say. What I sense within you and Summerbird lightens my inner being, such as I have not felt in near memory. Beware, though, for you do not wholly understand Summerbird’s beginnings. They differ from yours. Another will feel the love between the children of our touch, yet I cannot predict his reaction. The entity’s golden sheen darkened. You will take care, I say again, for you twice draw peril to you, dear Ùilteine—that which finds you and that which you somehow seek out. You are no stranger to Fate, but that does not mean you may be careless.

The Otter’s soaring black brows crashed together. The children of our touch? What beginnings did Treaty speak of? Treaty had always called Ùilteine, Miffin Griffin, and Ryordin Asii his progeny. The entity had given them humanlike countenances and lives and was very much like a father to the three.

But Summerbird’s beginnings? The Otter knew where and when she was born. She’d spent most of her first two years at Offuun with Cián until Ryordin had taken her to Isterr for reasons he chose not to share with anyone.

The Otter shook his head. There wasn’t any point in giving the mystery further thought now, no matter how much he wanted to ask about it. Treaty wouldn’t reveal anything until he was ready, or it became necessary. Still, that enigmatic comment about Fate bothered him. The Otter was certain Fate would have ensured he and Summerbird met, with or without Treaty’s help. Did the entity realize that as well?

Relief flooded him, and he took a deep breath. He hadn’t realized how much anxiety he felt regarding Treaty discovering his relationship with Summerbird until now. And not only did Treaty know about them, but he also approved. Why doesn’t he ask about a Joining?

Before he could wonder why Treaty was still emitting agitation, he understood. Treaty expected him to set aside whatever he was doing and seek Summerbird. Now.

I’ll find her, the Otter said quietly.

The entity brightened and expanded, surrounding the Otter, who found himself awash in a weird sensation of dry mists and heat. When Treaty departed, the Otter shivered. Treaty’s peculiar feeling way of imparting affection always left him feeling odd.

Alone in the room, the Otter raised the crystal ball again and finally let loose the laugh he’d been holding in.

You must have been well-pleased, my sweet, he said quietly, "leaving this behind to mislead Elodie or Cián. But perhaps not so much once you learn Treaty found it."

The Otter returned the small green ball to its place on Summerbird’s bed. He’d have to be firmer with his willful mate, who constantly abandoned safety to set out on her adventures. Still, at least she took Orkey this time—

No, more likely, the cattu refused to be left behind.

Deep in thought, he opened his eerie doorway and left Summerbird’s room. A Joining was necessary to merge their magic and ensure her safety. Given the intensity of their magical attributes, the ritual had to be performed with Treaty’s knowledge and blessing.

"I should