

The Endonshan Chronicles Book 6

## TRAITORS

By Cy Bishop

Copyright 2018 Cy Bishop

Smashwords Edition

With special thanks to:

God, my patient family, Google,

and Jessica Dodson for the fantastic cover

Table of Contents

Start of Book

Pronunciation Guide and Glossary

About the Author

268 years before The Division

**Chapter 1**

I sat against the prison wall, bars pressing into my side as I both felt and didn't feel the cold from the stones sinking deep into my skin. Rain water dripped from the narrow window at the back of the cell, echoing the dull melancholy that hung in the crowded cell.

None of us spoke. There was no reason. We all knew we deserved whatever fate was in store for us. I looked over my cellmates without moving my head. Some slumped, some leaned. Most sat, holding their knees to their chests and staring into nothing. Dovannel, long my friend and now my fellow traitor, leaned against the wall beside me, his head drooping. Even we, so close that many mistook us our friendship for romance, hadn't said a word to each other in ages. A room full of Tulvans with no life left inside.

No, not Tulvans. Not anymore. We had abandoned our true selves and became something else, like a vase so thoroughly shattered that it cannot be restored. Broken husks of what we once were.

Metal scraped stone further down the corridor as the entrance gate to the dungeon opened. Too early for our paltry dinner. Another prisoner? Those near the door to our over-packed cell automatically shifted away from it, their drooping heads never lifting.

The footsteps in the hallway were new, a slow shuffle with the unsteady thump of a heavily leaned-on cane. I let my head shift back against the wall, only half watching the corridor. It didn't really matter who came in the end. Another prisoner meant yet another of us who had failed, another to join us in our brokenness, paying for our crimes through an irreparably shattered state of being. An executioner meant justice would be served.

It didn't matter.

The cane thumps grew steadily louder until the bearer came into view. An elderly Kadrian, withered and weary, accompanied by a guard on one side and a masked attendant on the other. What was left of my heart sank as I recognized the woman. Lady Tash, matriarch of the royal family who ruled the land we had betrayed.

Growing up in the commune, I'd been obsessed with stories of her reign. Now I only felt heartsick; our people had been her greatest champions, and we betrayed her and all of Kenara to the Hranites. Her weak frame, I'd learned, was due to use of the now-rare magic to free her family. Her frailty was just as much our fault as the Hranite occupation had been.

The masked man set down a stool outside the cell door and helped Lady Tash settle on it. She patted his hand before resting her own on the knobbed head of her cane. Aged eyes still filled with vigor and life surveyed us. Her voice creaked only slightly, the wear of old age barely diminishing the tone of calm, unflinching authority. "Tell me."

Heads remained drooped. Eyes that weren't already fixed on the floor shifted there. The weight on our chests didn't budge, didn't allow us to draw in a full breath. Same as always.

She remained still, waiting patiently for a response we didn't have.

I looked down. My voice cracked from weeks without use and came out foreign to my ears as I pressed a fist over my heart in salute. "Milady. There is no word in any language for the depth of our shame. We rightfully deserve whatever sentence awaits us."

She addressed me. "What's your name?"

"Kibi, milady."

Lady Tash looked us over. "Does she speak for you?"

The others pressed their fists against their own chests. Their voices rang dull. "Milady."

She nodded and spoke a note softer this time, addressing me. "Tell me."

I hesitated, words failing. Dovannel linked his finger with mine, lending his support.

With effort, I managed to lift my gaze to rest at her feet instead of my own. "When the Hranites attacked... The wise and righteous Tulvans fought to the end. The smart, though cowardly, fled to our commune in the eastern mountains." I swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. "We—given the choice to aid the Hranites or die, we chose..."

My gaze dropped again. "We chose wrong." Painfully understated, but there was nothing more I could say.

Silence reigned. She finally leaned forward, her eyes softening with compassion. Her voice came out gently this time, though with the same authority. "Tell me."

I closed my eyes, thoughts a jumble in my head. Nothing seemed adequate. I opened my eyes again, meeting her gaze for the first time. "We are sorry. I can't express how much we regret..." I faltered and tried again. Something inside me wanted to cry. "There is nothing we could ever say or do to make this right. We will submit to whatever justice is chosen. There is no punishment too harsh for what we have done."

She held my gaze until I couldn't bear it and had to look away, my eyes returning to the floor in front of me. No one moved as we waited for her to pronounce her judgement upon us.

Lady Tash straightened, addressing us all. "I have spoken to many like you in the past weeks. All betrayed Kenara and helped the Hranites oppress and abuse our people. Is there any who would say this is not true?"

No one spoke.

"All deeply regret this choice and wish that they could go back and choose differently. All wish the crimes they committed could be taken from their victims and inflicted upon them instead. Is there any who would say this is not true?"

Her words resonated through the cell, meaning weighted heavily, so much clearer than my stumbling words had been able to express.

"Kenarans no longer trust your people, and they are right to feel such." She paused again, waiting to see if anyone disagreed. We didn't.

"All I have spoken with also, upon learning that my family had been freed, immediately turned on the Hranites. They fought the Hranites back until none were left, and then surrendered themselves for justice."

Truth. We had all given our shameful stories when we were first gathered into Emsha's dungeon from the outerlying cities, and we all had the same story. It seemed we weren't the only ones, either.

"Therefore, I will give you the same judgment I gave them." Lady Tash looked us over once more. "You will go to the Temple of Peace in the eastern mountains and serve the Peristas until they direct you otherwise."

I looked up; not even the weight of brokenness could dull my surprise. Most of my cellmates had the same reaction.

The compassion from Lady Tash's eyes now marked her voice. "I know how broken you have become. I see it before me now. You are not what you once were. You betrayed us, and in doing so, betrayed yourselves. I have seen you already suffer greatly for your choices, more so than any external punishment could inflict. I could have you held here to remain in suffering, but I believe Maker has yet some purpose in this. You will be released by morning to begin your journey to the Temple."

Dovannel spoke quietly. "We deserve death for what we have done, milady."

"And instead you will live to serve." She surveyed us. "Is there anyone who challenges my decision?"

Part of me wanted to—it was such a light sentence for what we had done!—but I couldn't challenge her. My cellmates remained silent as well.

"Then my decision stands."

"Milady?" The tiny voice almost couldn't be heard, despite the silence. Gida, the youngest of us, barely far enough out of youth to have left the commune. Her gaze remained fixed on her hands in her lap. "Are—are there many like us?"

Lady Tash looked on her with kindness. "There are always those who choose wrong, child. Devote yourself to what is right."

Gida nodded, more a defeated bob than a nod, a tear slipping down her cheek. I felt the same heartbreak over the knowledge that so many of our people chose to betray Kenara. The only difference was that I had cried my tears dry long ago.

The masked attendant helped Lady Tash back to her feet. She patted his hand again, then pressed her fist over her chest. We automatically returned the salute. "Serve," she said, "and seek wholeness. Listen to the Peristas' guidance."

"Milady." The faint word hummed through the room.

She dipped her head and allowed the attendant and guard to lead her from the corridor.

Silence resumed in the cell, undergirded with uncertainty. What could we offer the Peristas? Would we even be received there after everything that happened? How could Lady Tash think we could ever find wholeness after what we had done?

The hollow questions rolled through my mind over and over. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the cold stones once more.

"Do you think..." Dovannel stared at the stone floor. "Do you think we'll make it?"

His question had so many meanings. I didn't answer. I couldn't.

* * *

Guards came early the next morning, their faces making their thoughts clear: they, like us, found Lady Tash's decision far too light. But they dutifully opened the cell door and herded us down the corridor. My joints protested after such a long time without hardly any movement. The others were just as stiff. As we moved through the dungeons, our limbs slowly regained their strength.

I hadn't realized how badly our cell stank until we were far from it and breathing fresh—or at least fresher—air. The stink still clung to us, like an olfactory proclamation of our crimes, but the air we breathed was less foul, less dense. Despite this, the weight on my chest still wouldn't let me draw in a full breath.

The dungeon doors opened, and light blinded me. A mess of voices followed, tumbling over in a mishmash that my ears couldn't sort out. Too long without anything to smell but our stink. Too long with only torchlight and a narrow strip of window to illuminate our cell. Too long without anything to hear but dripping water and the occasional shift of weight. My senses were overwhelmed.

The guards prodded us along, and as we stepped out into daylight, the world gradually faded back into order. People filled the road, glaring in rage and shouting bile at us. I wondered if they might tear us apart, and the thought was almost welcome. But they never tried to push past the guards, only trailing alongside us as we walked to the main road through Emsha and out of the city.

Unbothered by the people, the guards remained stoic, though their hands remained on their weapons. It was obvious enough that they weren't so much concerned about the people attacking us as they were about us lashing out in response. They needn't have worried. None of us would lift a hand against anyone at this point, not even in self-defense.

A rock hit my arm, then another cut across my cheek. More rocks joined the insults thrown our way, along with dirt clods and anything else the people could reach. An old instinct stirred in me to deflect the incoming projectiles, but I quelled it. We earned this.

I saw Gida ahead of me flinch, apparently having a harder time keeping her instincts in check. A few men had chosen her as their target, battering her with an unrelenting barrage. One rock left a gash along the side of her head, and she stumbled.

Shifting forward, I eased her toward the middle of the group, taking her place. The people were unconcerned, fine with their target changing from her to me. I kept my eyes downcast and ignored the pelting assault.

Dovannel stepped in place behind me. On the inner side of the group, where the citizens wouldn't see, he reached forward and linked his finger with mine in solidarity.

We finally reached the edge of the city. The guards stopped at the border, just inside the wall, standing firm as if to prevent us from turning and trying to go back in. But we trudged on, not even bothering to stop and tend to our cuts. Let them bleed. It made no difference.

The land stretched in plains before us, the main road smooth and easy, but I slowed when I saw the first early-morning travelers in the distance. "Off the road," I said quietly.

The others joined me in moving a distance from the road.

"Right," one of the others mumbled. "Can't terrify the citizens with a pack of Tulvans."

"Not Tulvans," Gida whispered.

She was right. We weren't Tulvans, not anymore. We looked like Tulvans. Our ears and eyes still flicked like Tulvans, scanning our environment, but without the alert vigilance that normally accompanied the movements. It was an empty shadow of what we once were. We were broken.

The word resonated. "Broken," I said. "We are the Broken."

Bobbing heads answered. Dovannel offered a grim, weak smile, his stringy hair brushing his brows.

I turned and continued on our route to the east, Dovannel at my side and the others in step with us.

It wasn't long before we saw a settlement ahead. I started a broad path around it, lest we risk getting too close and frightening the people.

"Maybe we should go closer," Livvya said, holding her scrawny frame and eyeing the buildings. "They've been damaged. We could help them rebuild."

"You think they would let us anywhere near them?" Dovannel questioned.

She shrugged hopelessly. "I just thought... We could do something in restitution, something good for others. Lady Tash said we're to serve now. I think—I think, we made a mess of things, and it's the least we could do to try to help fix it."

Murmurs and looks spread through us. All eyes eventually turned toward me and Dovannel.

I echoed Livvya's shrug, though mine was awkward. What were they looking at me for? "I suppose we could offer our help."

"Just one of us," Gida said. "We don't want to scare them."

Smart kid. I nodded.

They were all staring at me again.

It took me a moment to realize I'd been chosen as our spokesperson. I should have realized after I'd fallen into that role with Lady Tash. I dipped my head. "I'll signal."

"We'll be waiting," Dovannel promised.

I walked toward the little city, words rolling over themselves in my mind. What could I possibly say to these people? 'Sorry we joined the people killing you, but now we want to help'?

The city's border approached far too soon. I'd already attracted some attention, and I stopped as a Nim-Elf, two Kadrians, and a Kadrian-Nim stomped forward to stand between me and the city, their weapons in hand.

"What do you want, _Tulvan_?" the Nim-Elf spat.

The name now sounded foreign in my ears. I cleared my throat. "We—we are sent by Lady Tash to serve the Peristas at the Temple. We wish to offer our service to you as well, if there is anything we can do help rebuild or—"

"Your kind did enough to help," one of the Kadrians snapped. She glared at me with cold fury. "Get out of here."

I pressed a fist over my chest and dipped in a slight bow. "I'm sorry." I hesitated. "We're all sorry, more than we could ever express. We'll leave you be if that's your wish."

"Go," the Nim-Elf said. "And may Maker strike you down as you walk."

I didn't tell him that we were okay with that. I simply bowed again and left.

The other Broken looked at me as a rejoined them, but asked no questions, their gazes returning to downcast as they turned to continue on. My expression was clear enough to tell them how welcome our offer of help had been.

The days blurred past as we trudged on, foraging and finding small game as we went. We attempted to stop at another city with the same results and gave up on going near any other people after that. They didn't want us around, and there was no reason they should. We accepted our exile and continued on toward our new life of servitude. Maybe, just maybe, the Peristas would have some way we could atone for our crimes, some way we could become whole again.

Maybe.

I hardly noticed when the treeline of the Great Eastern Forest appeared on the horizon. As we got closer, I felt the first brushes of longing. I wanted to be there, among the trees, as if the dense forest could cover me and hide my shame.

Dovannel linked his finger with mine, and I glanced first at him and then the other Broken. I saw the same desire for a hidden place, out from the open, in their own eyes. I nodded and picked up the pace. We would reach it before sunset and hide in both the cover of trees and dark alike.

We had to move even further south from the road to avoid a larger city nestled up against the forest's edge. I kept the respectful distance even as I moved quicker. The sooner we could disappear into the forest, the better.

A shout rang out, then another. Panicked. Terrified. I looked up as three youths charged out of the forest, screaming as a family pack of seven dufos snapped at their heels.

Chapter 2

Instinct rushed back to me. I was already running, the other Broken at my side. We might not be true Tulvans anymore, but that didn't mean we couldn't fight like them.

The youths hollered again and almost backpedaled as we neared them, but the hooting shrieks of the dufos drove them onward. They cringed as they neared us. We rushed past them without a look their direction and flew into the snapping avian beasts.

A foot spike lashed at me. I kicked it away while catching the snaking neck of another dufo before its razor-sharp beak could chomp into my arm. Dovannel slashed the side of the beast's round body. It shrieked all the louder. My claws clicked out, and I tore into it until it stopped moving.

I turned to attack the next one, but the others were already dealt with, the dozens of us Broken more than enough to handle the small family pack. My body shook with the sudden drop of adrenaline. The old instincts abandoned me just as quickly as they'd come, leaving behind nothing but the same emptiness.

Approaching footsteps came from the city. A group of fighters, armed and ready, looked from us to the dufo bodies on the ground.

"What is it you want, Tulvans?" a Nim asked, keeping his sword cautiously at the ready.

Dovannel nudged me forward.

I pressed a fist against my chest and bowed my head. "Forgive us for coming so close to your city. We mean no harm. We are on our way to service at the Temple, under command of Lady Tash."

The fighters looked at each other, clearly uncomfortable and uncertain.

"Forgive us," I said again, quieter this time, and tipped my head toward the others. They followed my silent command and entered the forest. I waited until the last one had passed me, then dipped my head lower. "We will not bother you further."

"Hold up," a Kadrian said, her voice commanding. The others deferred to her; she clearly was a city leader. She lowered her weapon and tipped her head, scrutinizing me.

I obediently stopped and waited.

Her lips pursed, then she nodded. "Thank you for rescuing our people."

I bowed again.

She nodded, then turned and led the others away. Some lingered, watching me warily, but left once I turned and followed the other Broken into the forest.

The others waited for me just inside the treeline. Branches swayed above me. There was a time not long ago that I would have leapt into those branches and swayed along with them, delighting in running their lengths and moving from one tree to another. But there was no delight anymore. The trees didn't draw me to them as before, except as a hiding cover. Even then, I didn't feel nearly as covered as the sight of the forest had promised my heart. I cast my eyes downward and moved on. The weight on my chest never felt heavier.

None of the others moved into the trees either, falling in beside and behind me, trudging along as before.

The darkness drew in, oppressive rather than protective. I slowed to a stop. "We'll sleep here."

We didn't bother talking as we found resting places, going into the lower branches out of a sense of practicality. Dovannel made sure some of the others were settled, then climbed to the branch beside mine. "Do you think the Peristas will accept us?"

"I don't know." And I didn't know what we would do if they didn't.

He pressed his thin lips together, then linked my finger briefly before letting go and turning to sleep.

I stared emptily into the leaves above me. I once again felt like I would cry—if I could. _Maker, you know the reprehensible things we've done. You know how deeply we regret it. Please help us find a way to penance. A way to be whole again._

I closed my eyes. _Or let us die and be done with it._

* * *

We woke early the next day, climbed down from the trees, ate, and moved on. The forest grew denser and denser until I finally ventured closer to the main road. It lay broad and flat, but the trees still canopied above it.

There were no travelers on the road this early. Few travelers ever came this far along the road, mostly the occasional seeker journeying to the Temple. We could walk it without the risk of disturbing many. Part of me longed to stay in the trees, but it was an empty longing. They offered no more comfort than trudging through the forest did.

We'd been walking the road for hours when a voice shouted. "Tulvans!"

I looked up to see an Elf darting away from us along the south side of the road. I cringed. I hadn't been paying enough attention to what lay ahead. With a nod, I gestured us into the forest, moving away from the people to avoid alarming them.

But there were already more Elves coming, weapons turned on us. I let the other Broken continue as I remained at the edge of the road, my fist on my chest and my head bowed.

"We already told your kind to stay away from us! Why do you keep harassing us? Get out of here!"

"We only arrived," I started, but stopped. "I'm sorry. We will leave you in peace."

"You better," one of them growled, waving a mace my direction.

I retreated into the forest, where the others were waiting. Dovannel linked his finger with mine. "You all right?"

"What was that about?" a shorter Broken, Jomii, asked.

"They've encountered other Tulv—Broken. They clearly don't want us around." I peered through the trees, trying to see where the village was, but even my perception had become broken. I couldn't tell clearly enough. "I think they're on this side of the road. We'll cross to the north side and move through the forest until we're past them."

Thankfully, we didn't run into any other angry Elves as we respectfully skirted the area they likely inhabited. We stayed in the forest after that, not wanting to cause any more stir.

The trees began to thin as the ground climbed upward, gradually giving way to rocky soil of the mountains. I stepped back onto the road and looked up. The Temple's shimmering white entry arch gleamed at the apex of the path before us. The morning sun glinted off the polished stone that formed the outer wall surrounding the massive, concave nook in the mountain face, the outer portion of the Temple's complex. I tried to draw in a full breath and failed, as always. I sighed. "We're nearly there."

I led on, not letting my inward struggle show. Dovannel's question haunted me. Would they accept us? What if they didn't? If they did, would we find redemption? A way to right our wrongs? Or would we remain Broken in servitude the rest of our lives? I was almost afraid to find out. Duty and the knowledge that we could not continue as we were kept my feet moving one in front of the other.

We were only a handful of paces from the Temple entrance when a blast of heat washed over us. Startled, I looked up into the face of a massive dragon staring down at us from where he clung head-down on the mountain's cliff face beside the arch. His coloring nearly perfectly blended with the rock, making it hard to define the difference between his body and the surface beneath him. He snuffed at us before resting his head back against the cliff face, alabaster eyes still fixated on us.

"Don't mind him!" a pleasant voice called from the archway. A green-robed Perista beckoned us with a welcoming smile on her face. "Regivithe has taken to greeting Tulvans in his own manner."

I eyed him a moment before remembering that I'd seen him once before, dipping low with the royal family on his back, signaling their safety and the end of the Hranite occupation. Dovannel and I exchanged looks.

"Is—is the royal family... _here_?" I asked, unsure we should even try to enter the Temple if they were present.

"No, he came with Luda," the Perista replied, still smiling. "They're fairly inseparable."

"Luda?" We exchanged looks again as I spoke. "Luda's here?"

"For some time now." She spread her hands. "Please, come. You are welcome here."

Nausea gripped me, momentarily preventing me from approaching. We didn't deserve to be welcome.

Dovannel linked his finger with mine.

I took a deep breath and nodded before releasing his finger and continuing forward.

The road ended at the Temple's entrance, with solid cliff face rising on one side of the archway and a narrow ledge leading around the side of the outer wall on the other. On either side of the arch itself sat carved basins of water. Tulvan attendants stood at them, holding towels. I dutifully washed my hands and dried them on the held towel.

The Tulvan avoided my eyes. He was Broken, just like us.

"I'm Perista Liyin," the Perista continued. She pressed her hands together. "The rest of the Tulvans have made camp in the valley to the north. You're welcome to rest and pray in here as long as you wish today, but please understand there isn't space for all of you to stay in the Temple overnight."

"We..." I cleared my throat and politely pressed my hands as she did. "We were sent by Lady Tash. We are to serve here."

Perista Liyin's smile shifted from welcome to compassion. "I understand. That's why all of you have gathered here. We are unable to accommodate so many at once, but your leaders have created rotations of service. They'll give you your assignments as they see fit. But please, come in and rest. Pray. Your spirits are weary."

My first thought was that she had no idea how true that statement was—how understated it was, in reality—but her eyes held wisdom. She had seen many of us, and she knew.

"So many?" Gida whispered from behind me. She shivered.

Too many to serve all at once. I looked through the archway at the massive courtyard beyond. It alone could accommodate hundreds, not to mention the cathedral I knew the courtyard led to or the various other rooms of service and necessity. And yet there were too many of us to serve at once. I felt the same shiver.

Perista Liyin's compassionate smile never wavered. "Come in. Rest."

I reluctantly led the way. We hadn't come here to rest, but to serve—but we would not challenge the Peristas' directions. If Perista Liyin said we were to rest, then we would.

The courtyard featured one side open to the sky above, with a raised garden growing in neat rows below. Seekers tended the plants, and Broken walked among them, distributing gloves and tools. In the rest of the courtyard, benches of polished stone provided seating for the seekers and Peristas. Alcoves had been carved into the stone walls all around, small retreats for seekers to pray. At the far end, across from the archway, was a massive door of carved wood set into a rounded stone opening. The cathedral itself.

Amongst all the activity, Broken walked with food and water, cushions for those seated, and various other implements being delivered to Peristas. Others worked at nothing, polishing an already-gleaming bench or scrubbing an already-clean alcove. Empty work for empty people.

We lingered awkwardly before I finally headed for the cathedral. The others followed, apparently unwilling to take their own initiative. I understood. It was overwhelming.

Inside the cathedral, candlelight flickered off the massive natural cavern walls and reflected in geodescent crystals twinkling across the ceiling. Smaller doors along the west side of the room led deeper into the mountain, likely to kitchens and rooms for the Peristas and seekers. Carved benches and soft cushions dotted the space with no real order, most of them occupied by seekers. More Broken worked around the outer edges, unobtrusively attending the candles and cleaning benches and cushions.

My traveling companions spread out, finding places to sit and pray. I sat on a bench beside Dovannel, but discomfort settled in before long. It felt wrong, being in this place to seek Maker after all we had done.

Leaving the bench behind, I wandered to the far end of the cathedral. A narrow, shallow stream of water flowed in the divot of a carved ledge running along this side of the room, coming from some unseen source beyond a natural gap in the cathedral wall. I touched the cold water, wondering how long I could bear waiting here, doing nothing, before I led the others to the camp to begin our penance. Looking at the Broken here, I felt my hope shrinking. Servitude hadn't made them whole; likely it would do no better for us. I closed my eyes. _Maker, please... please, just make it end._

"Welcome, friend," a deep, rumbling voice said. I looked over to the Perista approaching me. He greeted me with a broad smile in his dark face. "I am Perista Wenn, senior Perista. You are a new arrival, yes?"

"Yes." I lifted my hand out of the water and pressed my hands together. "Kibi."

He echoed the gesture. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

A pleasure? He had to know why I was there. "Perista..."

"You've come to seek redemption. Like the others."

I nodded.

"Those who seek it may find it." He looked at me not with fear or mistrust, but with compassion. It was as unnerving and unsettling as Perista Liyin's welcoming of us. "Maker knows what you need."

Punishment. "May it come swiftly," I said. He tilted his head, but I spoke again before he could say anything. "There are many seekers here. I shouldn't monopolize your time." I pressed my hands together and bowed.

He pressed his hands once more. "I am here for anyone who wishes to talk. As are the other Peristas." He dipped a thumb in the water and pressed it against my forehead. "Be at peace, child."

Peace was a fantasy. I looked back at the water, then walked out of the cathedral.

I wandered back to the courtyard, paying the people around me little mind. I spotted a Broken working the garden between two Peristas, her long hair tied back from her face. She seemed different, even more hollow and empty than the rest of us. I quietly approached and crouched by the plants opposite her. "Have you been serving long?"

She ignored me.

"Don't," another Broken said quietly as he handed me a pair of gloves. "That's Luda."

I stared at her. If our kind had a queen, she was it. Chief of betrayers. I lowered my head.

The attendant Broken leaned closer to me. "She was the first one to come here. They let her stay permanently, and she's been serving ever since. The rest of us work in rotations."

His tone didn't suggest he found the arrangement unfair, and I agreed. It felt right.

I put on the gloves and tugged at some weeds, glancing around as I did. I saw a handful of seekers that I thought were Broken, but another look proved me wrong. Tulvans. Two elders leading five children, clearly all from the commune hidden in the mountains north of here. Our pilgrimage site where the elders retired and trained the children until they were old enough to leave their youth behind and join the rest of us in the world.

"They were not discovered," Luda said quietly. She caught my eye briefly before returning her attention to the garden. "Many of the elders came to protect the Temple after the occupation began, but the Hranites never reached this far." She fell quiet for a moment. "They were not broken."

The elders gave us dirty looks as they passed. I turned my face away in shame. Still, I was relieved to know that there were still generations of Tulvans untainted, not Broken. They would return to the land as protectors, the way Maker intended us to be.

I spotted Dovannel leaving the cathedral, the others in our group behind him. Time to leave. I gave the gloves back to the attendant and joined my comrades at the archway. Finally, we would get some answers, orders, or at least some hope that our servitude might bring restitution.

Perista Liyin pressed her hands and beckoned a nearby Broken. "Please lead our new friends to your camp."

Friends? I felt nauseated again.

The Broken led us down the main road to a faint path worn between the trees to the north. The walk took nearly an hour, and my nerves tightened with each moment. How many were we, exactly? Would we be welcomed there like at the Temple? Why was the camp settled so far away from the Temple?

The trees thinned and ended at the edge of a shallow valley, and I had my answer. I stared, dumbstruck, at the massive blanketing of people filling the space. Forget hundreds; there had to be thousands here.

Gida squeaked. "So many?"

Our Broken guide gave us a grim look before going back to the Temple.

I surveyed the valley. Makeshift tents and bedrolls covered the place like speckles on a wastik, grouped together in camps with narrow walkways between each. A broad, empty circle sat in the middle, obviously some sort of gathering place.

We stared, looking around, unsure where to go. A woman with a pale frizz of hair around her head hiked toward us. She looked exhausted and as numb as I felt. "You're new. Set up camp on the east side of the valley. One of you will join us at the bonfire tonight so we can get you assigned."

Gida stared openly at the sprawl of Tulvans before us. "We... we never thought there were so many..."

"Then you're as naïve as we once were." The woman sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "You'll find a lot of illusions shattered here. I'm Anastra. I'm as close to in charge as it gets here, but don't come asking for me. You'll be assigned a group leader at the bonfire. Now go get settled in."

Gida's head hung as Anastra strode away. I gave her shoulder a squeeze before heading east, toward the clearest spot I could find. The others silently followed, not meeting the gazes of the other Broken watching us go by.

So many. Gida's lament echoed in my head. How could this ever be fixed? How could servitude bring any recompense? None of these people looked any better for having been here and served. I would be just as well-off walking into a dufo cave and letting it tear me—

I banished the thought and focused on leading.

We had no belongings with us, so establishing our camp amounted to finding places to sit while some of us went back into the forest to hunt for small game and others gathered tinder and kindling. I found myself looking around the camp more and more, still staggered by the sheer numbers stretched before us.

"You're new," a voice came from beside me. A Broken approached, thumping his fist to his chest.

I returned the salute. "Lady Tash sent us here to serve." I looked around. "I'm not sure..."

"It'll get you far?" he finished for me. He sat down at my side, his knee brushing mine. "I know. I've been here for weeks, and nothing's changed. A lot of us are starting to think we should try something else."

"Such as?" The thought of something that might work, something other than polishing the same bench over and over again, hooked into my heart.

He faltered. "Well... we don't know. But something's gotta be better than nothing, right?"

I looked away. "Let me know when you come up with that something."

"I'm Lontre," he offered.

"Kibi."

"You can ask me if you have any questions. Like I said, I've been here a while."

"Thank you."

He scooted a little closer. "And you can ask me if you need help with anything else, too. I'm always here to help."

I glanced at him, wondering how he could keep such an upbeat attitude with our Brokenness. "Thanks."

Dovannel scooted closer on my other side. "I'm sure we'll be fine," he said, linking his finger with mine.

Lontre looked down at our fingers. "Oh. I didn't realize you were..." He cleared his throat and straightened. "Sorry. Like I was saying, just ask if you have any questions or need any help." With that, he quickly returned to his own camp.

I frowned at Dovannel. "What was that about?"

"Really?"

"What?"

He shook his head. "He was trying to flirt with you, Kibi."

I actually laughed out loud before catching myself. "You can't be serious."

Dovannel smiled, the first real smile I'd seen from him in ages, and tucked my hair behind my ear. "You're clueless."

The others returned, and after we ate, most of them wandered to meet other Broken and talk. I didn't bother. I'd had more emotions in one day than I'd experienced in weeks. Hope, despair, nausea, uncertainty, awkwardness.

Lontre had been flirting?

I shook it off. I couldn't fathom a relationship, not as Broken as I was. It seemed that the other Broken here had become more calloused than I had. Mostly I felt nothing but the ever-growing weight of depression.

The sky finally sank into dusk, and I saw the bonfire in the center forming. Dovannel nudged me. "Go on."

I glanced back at the others. They nodded; I was still the chosen spokesperson. My throat dried as I walked the long route between camps to the central gathering place. Some Broken there nodded in acknowledgement of my approach. Most ignored me.

Several minutes after everyone was settled, an unspoken signal passed, and Anastra stood. "Carilla?"

A lady with a precise air to her answered. "We served today. No difference." She looked down, the precision slipping. "The Peristas are running out of things for us to help with. We're just doing the same tasks day after day."

"And we'll continue to do them until we are directed otherwise," a quiet younger man said.

A woman snorted, her voice hard. "No matter how useless it is."

"Bene," Anastra warned.

Bene shrugged. "It's been too long with no change. Serving at the Temple clearly isn't solving anything. We should go back to the villages and see what we can do to serve. To rebuild, or perhaps to defend. If we go back to doing what we did before, then it's only a matter of time before we truly become it again."

"It might be worth a try," Carilla offered.

"We may not be well-received." I felt my cheeks warm as all eyes turned to me. "Forgive me. I spoke out of turn."

Anastra tipped her head toward me. "Go on."

I glanced around the circle. "We were sent here from Emsha by Lady Tash. As we travelled this way, we tried to offer our help to a city still broken from the.... from damage done to it." I glanced down. "They wanted nothing to do with us. Whenever we came near other people, they greeted us with weapons drawn. You can go if you like, but our experience is that it will do very little good. For you or for anyone else."

Bene pursed her lips, eying me. "Well, staying put isn't doing us any good, either."

"We came here to seek Maker," the quiet-voiced man from before spoke again. "We have to trust that we'll find answers as we seek."

"It's just as easy to seek as we serve other places instead of washing the same benches every day, Jou," Bene retorted.

Anastra waved her hands for quiet. "If you wish to go, we're not forcing you to stay. But you know as well as we do that only Maker can mend our brokenness."

"The Peristas are working to guide us," Jou agreed. "We just have to be patient and have faith."

Bene muttered something under her breath and leaned back on her hands, eying me as she did so. "What's the deal with the newcomers?"

"They arrived today," Anastra said. "I had them set up on the east edge."

"Whose group will they be in?" Bene asked. "I sure don't have any more space in mine."

"We're all stretched thin," a baby-faced man said.

"There are nearly eight thousand of us now. We aren't going to be able to handle much more," Carilla said.

I almost squeaked out Gida's mantra: So many? I bit my tongue in time to keep it from slipping out. Eight thousand? I couldn't fathom it.

Anastra sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Fine. We'll make a new rotation. You. What's your name?"

I realized she was addressing me. "Kibi."

"Congratulations, Kibi, you're a rotation leader now. Your group will serve in turn, starting tomorrow. Be at the Temple by sunrise."

I blanched. Spokesperson was one thing, but leader? "I—I'm not sure I'm the right person..."

"You are now."

I looked around and saw no help. "I..." I exhaled. "I'll do my best."

"It's not hard," Carilla said. "Keep your area clean, keep your people in order. When you're on rotation, work with Perista Wenn to find assignments. You'll be fine."

"So she has a rotation of, what, a few dozen people? I've got hundreds!" Bene scowled. "How is that fair?"

"Are you finished?" Anastra asked, giving her a look.

Bene scowled, but let it go. "Are we done hand-holding?"

I shifted uncomfortably, unable to help asking one more question. "Do you think there will be many more coming?"

"Doubtful. You're the first new faces we've seen in over a week," Anastra said. She turned. "Unless anyone has anything pressing?"

It was apparently the signal for the meeting to end, because everyone stood and walked back to their respective camps. Unsure what else to do, I saluted Anastra and hurried back to my camp.

"Well?" Dovannel asked as I rejoined them.

"What's wrong?" Gida asked, scrutinizing my face in the firelight.

I shook my head. "Nothing." Everything. I was expected to lead when all I wanted was to throw myself off the nearest cliff. I cleared my throat. "We are a new rotation. We'll go to the Temple tomorrow morning before sunrise."

"Anything else?" Dovannel asked. He could tell I was upset.

I spoke quietly. "It doesn't seem that anyone here is finding their service to make any difference."

"We know," Jomii said. He looked at his hands. "We've been talking to people."

No one spoke for a long time. I finally cleared my throat, desperate to cling to—or at least provide—some scrap of hope. "Lady Tash said she believes Maker has some purpose in this. We have to believe it, too." I remembered Jou's words at the fire. "We have to be patient and have faith."

I could tell the words were as hollow to them as they were to me. I turned away.

Dovannel handed me a blanket. "The Peristas keep the camp well-supplied, from what I hear."

I held the blanket close. "How do they have so many?" The sheer numbers of the camp still staggered me. "How will we all eat?" The forest couldn't have unlimited game and berries. "How—"

"Relax," he chided. "Seekers make the blankets as part of their prayers. And for food, well, apparently that dragon has been hunting large creatures from the ocean, so the Temple has an overabundance of food. The group on rotation hauls back food for everyone each evening." A wry smile tugged his lips. "I guess you could say Maker got things ready for all of us to be here."

I looked away and hugged the blanket tighter. Of course Maker would know we were coming. But seeing to our needs in this way? It had to be coincidence. We didn't deserve that level of consideration. Seekers just happened to make blankets. The dragon just happened to show up now because he was with Luda. And of course he hunted large beasts; he was a large dragon.

Coincidence.

The others settled down, and I did the same, nestling deep under the heavy blanket. The stars shone alongside the waning light of the moons, only two visible from our vantage in the valley. I closed my eyes. _Maker, if you want to make us whole, then please make it soon. Please. Help us._

Chapter 3

We arrived at the Temple promptly at sunrise. I had worried that our small numbers wouldn't be adequate to take care of the Temple's needed tasks, but even our little group turned out to be more than enough. I set the others to work and went into the cathedral along with Gida. There was little for us to do beyond tending the candles and washing benches, but we settled into a dedicated rhythm doing exactly that.

The day dragged on. I worked, ate lunch, worked, avoided the Peristas, and worked. The steady work took no mental engagement, so my mind was left to wander—the last thing I wanted. I focused harder on scrubbing.

I heard movement behind me and jumped. I'd been so focused, I'd lost awareness of my surroundings.

"Forgive me," Perista Wenn said kindly, pressing his hands as he sat down on the bench behind me. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine." I cringed at my brusqueness. "I'm sorry."

"You know that your rotation is finished for the day?"

I glanced around and saw Gida had left.

"I dismissed them back to camp. I saw you needed more time," the Perista explained.

"I apologize for holding you up."

"That isn't what I meant." He motioned to the space beside him, inviting me to sit. "You're welcome to stay longer, if you wish. As a seeker, not a cleaner."

"I should move on with my people."

"Stay, Kibi. Rest and reflect."

A shudder pulsed through my spine. I shook my head, my gaze dropping to the floor. "I reflect. It has done me no good."

"You do not rest."

"They won't let me." It slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it. All the faces I saw when I closed my eyes, the horror in their eyes when they realized I was there to help not them, but the Hranites. I sensed he knew full well what I was talking about.

He gently reached for my hands, and I reluctantly let him take them. He led me to the far end of the cathedral and dipped my fingers in the light stream flowing on the carved ledge. My fingers traced with his over the smooth rock at the bottom. "Time makes things well, but you must allow it to do its work," he said softly. "It is good to seek forgiveness. You must also be ready to accept it when it comes."

"I am here to serve." I lifted my hands from the water and wiped them on my tunic.

He nodded, dipped his thumb in the water, and pressed it against my forehead.

I politely pressed my hands together and left.

The sky revealed it was only early evening. I walked out the archway to go back to the camp, but slowed. The path leading along the side of the Temple wall, moving further east from the main road, called to me. The scenery on the other side of the path slipped away down the mountain as the path became a ledge in the mountain's face. I followed it as it narrowed along a curve, taking me out of sight from the road. I had to turn sideways, pressing against the rock wall, to keep my footing on what little path remained.

Once past the curve, the ledge broadened into a rounded precipice, the front edge dropping away into a deep chasm. I looked down and saw rushing movement coming at me. Jumping back, I stared as the dragon shot up out of the chasm, something broad-tailed wriggling in one side of his mouth. He snuffed at me, then flew on to the Temple.

I shook my head and stepped back to the edge of the chasm. I could hear the distant crashing of water on rocks, the ocean beyond the mountains echoing through the natural valley. I thought about how empty this all was. I thought about how Luda and the others, for all their service, were still so very Broken. I thought about the leadership thrust upon me against my will. I thought about justice for the atrocities I'd committed.

Then I realized I was leaning forward. It would be so simple...

"Oof." Perista Liyin shuffled her feet along the narrowed section of the ledge. "It's been a while since I came this way."

Her foot slid. I was already at her side, steadying her and helping her reach secure footing on the wider area.

"Thank you, my dear." She patted my hand and sat on an outcropping of rock, looking up at the mountains stretching around us. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

All I'd seen was the dark chasm. My cheeks burned in shame at the weakness I'd just displayed. I'd been foolish.

"It can be hard," she said softly, "dealing with such pain."

My voice barely came out. "I've caused so much."

"To others, yes, and to yourself."

We sat in silence for a while.

"I know what the darkness would draw you toward," she said. "But you must have faith. Maker has a plan to bring good of this."

I looked down at my hands. "I don't know how that's possible."

She smiled. "None of us can know how but Maker alone. Be open to what will come."

I dipped my head.

"This has been a lovely break," she stretched, "but I best return to my duties. I could use a hand getting back along the narrow part of the ledge, though."

I followed her mutely, helping her as she requested. When we reached the archway, we pressed hands toward each other, and I headed back to camp.

"Hey," Dovannel said as he jogged to meet me once I reached the valley. "Are you okay? You were gone a long time. We had to come back to get more people for hauling the food. Not enough of us, you know?"

"I'm sorry. I should have been helping."

He linked my finger. "No, I just meant I didn't know where you were, and I was worried."

"I'm fine." I turned and walked back to our camp. No one spoke much as we ate.

The bonfire hadn't quite been set when a stir came from the forest end of the valley. We turned to see Perista Wenn making his way through the camp toward the bonfire clearing.

Dovannel stared, then nodded me toward the meeting place. "You better get over there."

Perista Wenn waited patiently for us leaders to arrive. Once we were all there, he spread his hands in greeting. "Maker has sent me with a message."

Everyone fell silent. I found myself leaning closer like a starving beggar reaching for a crust of bread.

"You were made to be protectors. You chose to betray those you were created to defend, and that has broken you."

My heart sank with each word. The knowledge of what we'd done still cut me to ribbons inside.

"You are no longer Tulvans, protectors of the people. This you know."

No one disagreed.

"You seek restoration, but you are too Broken to become Tulvans again. You will never go back to what you once were."

The faint shreds of hope left in my heart shattered. There was no chance to be made whole again. I should have let myself fall into that chasm. The others around me stiffened or let out small gasps.

He held up a hand. "I said you cannot be restored. I didn't say you can't be made whole again. A glassmaker can pick up the shattered pieces of a vase, melt them down, and make them into something new. This is what Maker will do with you."

Something new?

"You cannot be a Tulvan again. You cannot remain as you are, Broken. Maker will remake you into a new being, and it is your choice that will determine who you become." He paused, looking each of us over, making sure we were listening closely. None of us made a sound. "You will be remade with either greater Strength or greater Understanding. The decision is up to you, each of you individually."

I found my voice. "We—we don't deserve..."

"It is not a matter of what you do or don't deserve. It is Maker's will to make all things as they must be. You are to choose whether you will gain in strength or understanding before you sleep tonight."

He raised a finger. "Do not deceive yourselves. You cannot remain Broken. Even if you tell yourself you will not choose, your heart yet longs to be whole again. Maker sees the heart and knows what you truly desire."

Perista Wenn looked over us once more. "Consider your decision carefully. Hold it fast in your heart before you sleep tonight. Maker will see to the rest." With that, he gave a slight bow and left.

Silence reigned for a long time. I stared blankly. What would it mean to have greater understanding? What would it mean to have greater strength? I wasn't sure. The image of the glassmaker stayed in my mind, the artisan gathering pieces of shattered glass to melt and form into something else. We were the shattered glass. Maker was, it seemed, the glassmaker. And Maker was going to make us into something whole, no longer Broken.

"We don't deserve it," I whispered.

"She's right," Jou said.

"I'm not sure it's our place to act against Maker's wishes," Carilla pointed out as murmurs spread. "That's what got us here to begin with."

"We can't seriously consider," another leader started.

"But we will," Anastra said, commanding everyone's attention and silencing the whispering. "Return to your camp and tell the others. Talk it through. Consider it carefully, as Perista Wenn said. Let Maker do what is to be done."

We divided off, returning to our camps amidst a steady thrum of hushed conversation, the rest of the Broken watching eagerly to see what news their leaders brought. I reached my camp to find my people waiting with anxious eyes around the small fire they'd made while I was gone.

I sat down in their midst, still trying to wrap my own mind around it all. I repeated Wenn's words as precisely as I could. "We each have our own choice to make. Strength or understanding. Discuss it—or not—as you need."

Murmurs spread through the camp. No one was sure what to make of this.

I wasn't doing much better. My mind was a mess. I wanted to hope that this meant things would be better, but I feared nothing would change. And even if it did change—I was terrified of what it would mean to be something completely different than what I had known all my life.

I shivered and wrapped my blanket around myself though I wasn't actually cold.

"We shouldn't accept," Gida whispered, holding herself much like I did as she gazed into the fire, her eyes only occasionally flicking around.

Jomii stretched his legs out in front of him. "It may be more than we deserve, but how can we reject what Maker wants? Besides, the Perista made it clear that wasn't an option."

"We've been seeking atonement," Dovannel said. "It seems this is the answer we've been looking for."

"You think we'll be better?" Gida asked, her voice holding the hesitancy of uncertain hope.

"I'm sure we will," Dovannel assured her. "Maker wishes to make us whole again. No longer Broken."

She stared into the fire. "What do we choose?"

"Greater strength or greater understanding." Dovannel rubbed his hands by the fire. "What do you think it means?"

"It seems straightforward," Jomii shrugged. "We can be stronger, or we can be smarter."

"It may not be that simple," I said.

"I don't think we need more strength," one of the others mumbled. "We're already the strongest race in Kenara."

"No, we were weak." Jomii countered. "We gave in to the Hranites. What's more weak than that? It doesn't matter how physically strong we are if we're weak inside. I think that's what 'greater strength' means. We can be the strong protectors Kenara needs. The strong protectors we were made to be."

"Unless 'greater strength' really does mean becoming physically stronger," Gida said. "What will that get us?"

"Well," Livvya started, "we know what we did wrong before, and we would never do such a thing again. We could right our wrongs. Think of the things we could do for the land."

"We could do incredible things," Dovannel mused.

Gida shook her head. "I don't know."

"It makes sense," Jomii said. "We were weak. Does anyone deny that?"

No one answered.

"But we were made to be protectors. With this gift, we can take up that role once more," he concluded.

I finally spoke. "We were protectors. We failed." I stared into the fire. "With greater strength, we could do great things. Or we could fail again and do even worse things."

Everyone sobered.

"We already had the greatest power of all the races. We don't need more strength." I stood. "Perhaps we could use some more understanding." With that, I left the fire behind and curled up under my blanket.

I lay awake as the others debated long after the fire had died down. I didn't listen in, focusing on my own thoughts instead, one thing over and over.

I know I don't deserve this. But if this is what You want, then please give me understanding.

Chapter 4

Dawnlight twinkled on dewdrops. The air felt crisp, clear. I opened my eyes and found a vibrant world teeming with life before me. I didn't have to scan like I usually did; everything was right there. The smell of faint smoke left over from the burnt wood behind me. The birds starting their day in the trees above. The wastiks skittering into hiding from those birds' beaks. The tiniest of breezes caressing the leaves. The light breathing of those still asleep. Even the faintest swish of air as their ears twitched, something mine no longer needed to do.

I felt it all, knew it all. It was like everything before had been in a dreamland, and I was now waking up for the first time in my life.

I stood and found myself meeting Gida's eyes. They sparkled with delight, and I knew she saw what I saw.

We understood.

A small, dark triangle marked her forehead at the base at her hairline, the point aimed downward. It was no more than half a fingerlength in height or width. I knew I had the same on my own forehead. Just as the same joy sparkled in my own eyes. Our hearts sang in newness and gratitude to Maker. Knowing smiles met each other, and in an instant, we were in the trees.

The others joined us. Our feet kicked off branches in unison, launching us forward. We raced the breeze, feeling the morning air on our faces as never before. I leapt higher, and the others moved with me as one, already knowing what I was doing even as I did it. Jou twirled to the right, and we twirled with him. Laughter echoed after us.

A mess of rekins ran through the forest below, dashing together to their watering hole. We fell in pace with them, undetected in the trees above. I crossed over them while Jou crossed the other direction, swapping places. The laughter was silent this time, rippling through us in shared amusement.

We finally slowed, crouching in the branches together. I searched for Dovannel, but he wasn't there. It sunk in then, something I'd known but ignored in my joy at our newness. There were only about two thousand of us together in the trees. The other thousands of Broken-no-more were still back at camp. They hadn't followed.

Curious, we slipped through the trees with the same speed as before, racing the wind and once more feeling the thrill of oneness. Maker had made us into something new, just as promised. Amazingly new.

We reached the camp to find the others just stirring. I dropped down next to Dovannel. "Wake up. You have to see..."

My voice dropped off. He didn't have a triangle on his forehead like we did. He had double overlapping triangles on each cheek, the bases just beneath his eyes and pointing downward. His eyes scanned the forest as he rose, his ears occasionally flicking one way or another.

He wasn't like us. I acknowledged what I had already figured out. We had asked for understanding. He had asked for strength.

He stared at me for a moment before resuming his normal scan. He touched his own forehead. "We have marks on us now?"

Jomii stood on the other side of the firepit, double triangles on his cheeks, too. I motioned toward him.

Dovannel's hand slid down to his cheeks. "Like that?" He looked between Jomii and myself.

"Which one do I have?" Jomii asked.

The fact that he had to ask showed the answer, but they didn't get it yet.

"You asked for strength," I said quietly.

He and Dovannel both touched their cheeks.

"Oh," Dovannel finally said. "That means you asked for..."

I nodded, not sure why he bothered commenting. It was obvious from our differences we had asked for different things.

"So?" Jomii asked, looking around. "Do we... have more strength?"

Dovannel stretched cautiously, testing his muscles. "I don't know. But I feel different."

"Yeah," Lontre agreed, wandering to join us. He looked me over, then at Dovannel and Jomii. "Better."

The others bobbed their heads in agreement as even more joined in.

"I just don't know..." Dovannel stretched his fingers, then clenched them in fists in front of him.

Water coalesced into spheres above his hands.

"Woah!" He jumped back, startled, and the water fell to the ground with a faint splash.

We all stared, then Lontre carefully stretched his hand out. The ground shifted beneath it, responding to some unspoken command. "This is amazing!"

I watched as the knowledge moved like a ripple, the other Tulvans testing their newfound powers and finding out what sort of magic they possessed. It was amazing, as Lontre said. No Tulvan had ever used magic before, and magic use had been all but gone from Kenara before today. I smiled, sharing in their delight.

Dovannel suddenly turned sober and looked at me. "That's... that's unfortunate, Kibi. I wish we had talked more. You could've had this, too."

I stared at him. He couldn't see how incredible things were for me now.

Of course he couldn't. He didn't understand.

Gida and I met eyes. We slipped into the trees once more, leaving the others to experiment and play with their new abilities. We would do the same. The rest of our people joined us, and we raced the wind once more.

Hours later, we sat in the shade beside a broad river, one of many tributaries streaming off the mountains. We drank deeply and soaked in the richness of creation around us. It was amazing. We'd never seen the world like this before. Jou called our attention to a mother bird tending her hatchlings above. We smiled and watched until another of us drew our attention to turquoise fish glimmering and darting in the water.

How had we gone so long without seeing this before? As Tulvans, we'd always been watching on full alert, but we had _seen_ nothing.

Now we could see everything.

Finally we returned to camp. Best to rejoin the others and discuss what to do next.

We arrived to find total chaos. Thousands of Tulvans playing with magic powers and twisting the world around themselves—and each other. One caused the ground to tremble and nearly knocked several others off their feet. Another shot a gust of wind that blew water back into yet another Tulvan's face.

We stared openly. The discord was unfathomable, and yet even that we understood. These Tulvans didn't have the unity we had. They didn't understand each other as we did.

But they were all laughing and reveling in the chaos. One that had been knocked over made a tree branch swing down and swat the one that had moved the ground. One that had been tripped by a root giggled and used water to muddy the other's pants.

I spotted Dovannel, Bene near him, and headed that way with Jou and Gida following. Dovannel was splashing water back and forth while Bene made the ground tilt and sway under his feet. He laughed as he stumbled for balance, then made the water into a whip and swatted her on the back of the head. Giggling, she retorted by burying his feet to the ankles.

He laughed as he pulled his feet free, then straightened to find me standing in front of him, waiting. His laughter faded, and he cleared his throat. "Oh. You're back."

I nodded. Now that we knew what we'd been made into, I told him, we needed to decide what we would do.

He shifted his weight. "Um... Welcome back. I'm sorry again, I mean, about you not getting any magic. I hope your understanding thing ends up being something useful."

He hadn't heard me. That was when I realized I hadn't actually spoken out loud. "We've been remade," I tried again. "We need to decide what to do."

"What to do?" Bene laughed and spun some rocks around us in a circle. "We're doing it!"

"We've been given a second chance. Maker will want us to do good."

The rocks spun lower, then dropped back to the ground. "Well, right," she said. "I mean, of course."

Jou, Gida, and I waited.

Dovannel flicked his gaze around in the usual scan, then caught my eye again. "Why do you keep staring? Do I have something on my face?" He laughed and touched the triangles. "Besides these, I mean."

Others around joined in the laughter.

We waited.

He slowed down and eyed me. "You're being kind of creepy right now, Kibi. Come on. What's on your mind?"

We should tell the Peristas, I told him. Then remembered to speak out loud. "We should report to the Temple."

"Not all of us." Bene made a rock fly up and twirl around above her hand.

Anastra stepped forward, triangles prominent on her cheeks. "Kibi's right." Her eyes flickered over our marks. "Dovannel and Bene, Kibi and Jou. Go tell the Peristas what happened, and then come back here."

"And decide what to do next," I said.

"Yes." She looked across the camp. "We could do great things."

"Yeah," Dovannel chimed in. "It's not like we haven't already been talking. Think about how much we could help a village when we can move stone and lumber at will, or water crops with a thought." He grinned, then paused to glance at us. "Well, _we_ can, anyway. I'm sure you all can help. Somehow."

We waited.

He grunted. "Look, is there something you want to say to me? You can say it."

We need—I started, then remembered to speak out loud. "We need to go to the Temple."

"We're going, we're going," Bene grumbled.

Jou and I took to the trees with Bene and Dovannel just behind us. They whooped as they ran across branches, something they hadn't done in a long time. The cheers faded quickly, to Jou's and my relief. It had been too loud, too obvious.

"Hey, slow down a little!"

I glanced back and realized it hadn't been the cheers getting quieter. Jou and I had simply outdistanced Bene and Dovannel.

"Honestly," Dovannel puffed as we slowed down for them to catch up, "when did you get so fast? Is that what you got for your 'understanding?' It made you faster?"

I eyed him. Not faster. Just more able to see the next step before it came. And the next beyond that. We weren't faster, we were more efficient.

Jou and I deliberately slowed ourselves to keep pace with the others. Bene and Dovannel exchanged a look; they were puzzled by us. I wasn't sure how to explain. More than that, I wasn't sure I wanted to bother trying.

We reached the Temple. Perista Liyin greeted us, seeming unperturbed by the fact that no rotation had come to serve that morning. The four of us pressed our hands together to greet her.

"Look," Dovannel grinned, and he made the water in the washbasin fly up and splash back down. Bene made the stone of the basin curl in over the water, then return to its normal shape.

"Magic," Liyin said, smiling in amazement. "There are so few born with it these days. It's good to see it return to Kenara."

"It's incredible," Bene supplied. "We're going to help rebuild, help protect—just think, with us around, the Hranites will never have a chance to take over again!"

Liyin turned to Jou and me. I pressed my hands together and waited. She met my eyes, and I saw her take in my lack of scanning, my stillness.

"Quit staring," Dovannel mumbled to me. "You're going to creep her out."

"Not in the least," Liyin said, pressing her hands together to me. She smiled. "I see wisdom when I look at you, Kibi."

"Thank you," I said softly.

"Come in." She gestured to the archway. "Perista Wenn will want to see you."

Jou paused to apologize for not sending a rotation, or at least word that there would be no rotation today.

Dovannel and Bene looked back at us, already heading through the archway. "Well? Aren't you coming?"

I realized Jou hadn't spoken out loud.

Perista Liyin looked at him as if she could tell he'd tried to communicate something. She just didn't know what it was.

She didn't understand.

"We're sorry," I said for him. "We should have sent a rotation."

She smiled. "It's quite all right. You've got a lot on your hands today." She leaned closer. "I can see you're all new."

Maker remade us, I agreed. Then remembered to speak out loud. "Remade."

She beamed.

We went together through the archway. I looked for Luda, but didn't see her in the garden or the courtyard. What had she chosen?

"Finally," Dovannel said beside me. He nudged me with an elbow. "You had me worried with those blank stares. Good to see you vigilant again."

He'd mistaken my search for Luda as vigilance. He didn't realize we were vigilant without needing to look around anymore.

I shook my head internally and continued with the others into the cathedral.

Perista Wenn sat near the far end, resting in a glittering alcove with several seekers not far from the little ledge with the stream. We stood a respectful distance away and waited. Dovannel and Bene kept looking around, moving from foot to foot, clearly eager to burst with the news. Jou and I were equally ready to burst, but I knew it didn't show the same way. I was sure my eyes sparkled with the same delight as his.

After a time, Wenn politely excused himself from the seekers and came to us. "I can see Maker has done as promised. Tell me about it."

"It's amazing," Bene burst out. "Look!" She held out her hands, and crystals flew from the ceiling, forming a spiked sphere in her hands that refracted light into colorful beams.

"It's magic," Dovannel enthused. He drew up a splash of water from the stream and made it dance in an orbit around the crystal sphere. "The 'strength' Maker offered is magic!"

"That is an incredible gift," Wenn said, impressed. "What an honor to be bearers of magic in this age."

He turned to Jou and me. "And you?"

"They got creepy," Bene said under her breath.

I held Wenn's gaze for a moment, then stepped to the stream and put my hands in, pressing them against the smooth rock at the bottom.

He beamed. "I'm glad you've found wholeness, my child."

"Wholeness? Is that what they got?" Bene shrugged. "We're pretty whole ourselves now, too." She made the sphere twirl the other direction, drawing attention to the extra abilities they'd gotten beyond 'wholeness.'

Wenn took my hands and clasped them for a moment. The faintest flicker of understanding rested in his eyes. Like Liyin, he knew there was something more. They couldn't quite see it.

"We understand," I said.

Dovannel laughed. "Well, I should hope so, since that's what you asked for." He chuckled again.

He didn't understand.

Wenn dipped his head and released my hands. "If any of your numbers wish to remain and continue in service, they will be welcome, but I think there are greater deeds that can be accomplished. We have many who come here to serve."

"You're sure?" Bene made the crystals fly back into place.

Of course he's sure, I told her. He wouldn't have said it otherwise. Clearly our service here had been more for our sake than for theirs.

"Yes, I'm sure," he said with a smile. He dipped his thumb in the water and pressed it against each of our foreheads in turn. "I believe you and your people can do great things."

"We sure can," Dovannel agreed, sending his floating water back to the stream.

We pressed our hands together, and Wenn returned the gesture.

Luda? I asked. Then remembered. "Luda?"

"She's requested privacy," he said.

I thanked him and followed the others to the doors.

Dovannel and Bene moved with such large movements, such obviousness. They laughed and joked as we went through the courtyard, suggesting Bene could form fancier benches or Dovannel could water the entire garden with a flick of his wrist.

Jou eyed me. I agreed with his assessment of their brashness, but added that we might have done the same in their place. Maker knew we had already played with our own new abilities at length. Jou smiled, agreeing.

We took to the trees outside the Temple, but Dovannel slowed. "Bene, Jou, go ahead. I want to talk to Kibi."

Jou glanced at me.

I nodded.

As the two distanced us, I matched Dovannel's meandering pace and waited for him to speak. Light filtered through the leaves above us in a golden glow. Birds sweetly spoke to each other. Tree-snits clung to the bark, skittering away as we passed.

He sighed after a minute. "What's wrong with you?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"Seriously, Kibi. You and all your... _understanding_ ones. What's wrong with you? You don't maintain vigilance. You look like you feel better, but you talk even less than when you were depressed. You stare like... like you could enter a person's soul through their eyes. It's unnerving, at best. Why are you like this?"

"We..." It was hard to find the words. "We understand."

"I don't know what you mean. You asked for understanding, I get that, but what does it mean?"

I searched his eyes but already knew I wouldn't find the glint of understanding I hoped for. He didn't get it. How could I explain?

I reached behind myself and plucked a tree-snit off the bark. It hissed and went to bite my hand, but I was already supporting it in my other hand, moving steadily with its movements in perfect harmony. I kept my eyes on Dovannel as I turned my hands one after the other, letting the tree-snit scamper freely without risking its needle-like teeth. I felt its anxiety rise, and I returned it to the tree, where it dashed away into hiding. Then I raised an eyebrow, hoping my meaning would come through.

He hesitated, then snorted. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Let's see you do that, I challenged.

He frowned at me. "Well?"

I hadn't spoken out loud. "Can you?"

"Can I what? Play with a tree-snit?" He looked around, then pounced on one nearby.

It promptly bit him.

He scowled, rubbing his hand as the rodent vanished. "You got lucky."

I shook my head and resumed walking along the branch.

He joined me. "You got an ability to handle animals? That's what understanding got you? Come on, Kibi. It's more than that. You're being weird." He caught my hand and hooked my finger with his. "You're my friend. I care about you. Why won't you tell me what's wrong?"

I searched his eyes again. "It's not wrong. It's right." It had never been more right.

He dropped his hand back to his side. "You've changed."

So have you, I told him. I hopped up into the higher branches and let the breeze race me home.

Chapter 5

I arrived at camp to find Bene chatting loudly with other leaders about what to do next. Jou and my family rested in the trees just inside the forest, listening and watching. He looked at me with concern as I crouched beside him, but I brushed it off. He didn't need to worry himself with Dovannel's inability to see what we had become.

"We should go help villages," Carilla said. "They might not have much left to rebuild by now, but we can still help them form new buildings or crops or—well, anything they want."

"Think of how fast we could do the work." Bene grinned. "We should get started right away."

Another jumped in. "We could leave one or two of us behind at each village. Someone to help protect and provide for the village. It's the least we can do."

"That's right," Bene said. "And we can fill in any gaps in leadership that exist."

Jou and I exchanged looks. Bene hadn't meant to suggest taking over a village, but an undernote in her words lingered in the air. It had come dangerously close to meaning more than she said.

"Most of us should head to Innsbrooke," Anastra said. "It's only right we should be in the capital city. We can join with the guards in defending the palace. It's time the palace had real magic in it again."

The others around her nodded in agreement.

Displeasure rippled through my family. The air of superiority hadn't been spoken, but each of us felt it keenly.

Dovannel emerged from the trees and joined Bene at the head of the discussion. She leaned close, and we knew she was asking about me. Dovannel shook his head.

"Why stop at Innsbrooke?" Livvya called, hands on her hips and a grin on her face. "We could skip right over the Wall and make sure the Hranites are never a threat to Kenara again!"

Loud laughter spilled across the camp.

A shudder passed through my family. Jou and I jumped down and started toward the center of the camp. It occurred to me then that he and I had landed at the head of our family, and not just because Anastra had assigned us to report to the Temple. We were the voice of our family. And somehow, my position of leadership didn't bother me like it had before. It felt right, like I had been made for this role. Or remade for it.

As we passed through the camp, the laughter quieted. It was gone by the time we stood with the leaders.

Dovannel cleared his throat. "What is it, Kibi?"

We need to be careful—I stopped, remembering to speak out loud. "We must use care. We can't repeat our mistakes."

Bene rolled her eyes. "We're talking about _beating_ the Hranites, not about betraying our land to them. There's a pretty big difference." She spoke as if to a child.

I met her eyes, unimpressed.

She scowled. "What?"

"Were we remade to do harm?"

"Harm?" She scoffed. "We're talking about rebuilding, supporting, helping, and protecting our people. What harm is there in that?"

She didn't understand.

"Kibi," Dovannel began carefully, also speaking as if to a child, "we're going to be careful. You don't need to worry."

Jou told them he didn't believe Maker remade us to take charge, but to serve.

I nodded before realizing he hadn't spoken out loud. The others were still staring at us, some nervously, others with irritation. I exhaled. "Humility is key. Maker changed us to serve."

"Of course." Anastra eyed me. "Why would you think we're proposing anything otherwise?"

Because we heard what everyone said, I told her. Because we understand more than what's said on the surface.

We locked eyes for a minute.

"Go back to your friends," Bene cut in. "Join us or not. _We're_ going to go help people. You do whatever you think is right."

I held Anastra's gaze a moment longer, then turned in step with Jou, returning to the trees.

Those in the camp stayed quiet, seeming unnerved, unsure. They were waiting to know we were gone. Jou and I joined our family and watched.

Finally the others resumed talking. It never went deeper than discussing how their abilities would help with rebuilding efforts, thankfully. Then more joking about their powers. Then more goofing off with their magic, with laughter that pierced through the sky.

Jou made a face.

I agreed with him, then glanced back at those with us. Us. Our family. "Ka," I said quietly.

The syllable rippled through us, holding understood meaning. Ka. Us.

Jou nodded toward the noisy camp outside the trees. "Ee-ka." Ika. Not us.

I looked out with a note of sadness in my heart. Dovannel. Carilla. Other friends. Not us.

A particularly boisterous laugh shot through the camp. Jou wrinkled his nose. "Ee-ka-nay." Ikane. They are loud.

Silent chuckles spread through us.

I smiled, then felt warmth as a new understanding settled in me. "Ka-ee-nay," I said. Kaine. We are not loud.

Hands brushed against me, approval warm in the touches. Kaine. That's who we were. Who we had been remade to be. Smiles lifted the faces of my family.

I looked down at the camp, then turned back to my family. We would follow the Ikane. We would join them in helping the villages. And we would keep an eye on them and make sure their newfound powers didn't lead them into destruction.

My family sat in unified agreement. I smiled. With that, some of us remained behind to watch the camp while the rest, led by a brother named Ranni, dashed off to dance with the breeze once more.

I turned back to the camp and watched Dovannel laugh with the others. I wished he could have been with us. Or that I could stay close to him. But the Ikane didn't want us among them. That much would have been plain even without our gift of understanding. I rested my chin on my hands. I missed my friend.

Gida touched my shoulder with comfort. I thanked her and leaned into that comfort, letting it soothe the loss. I only hoped that in time, we and the Ikane could be reconciled somehow. Together, we could be great. If only they could understand.

As the Ikane camp settled into night, we slipped back through the trees, following the path left behind by the rest of our family. We came to the same broad river we'd rested beside earlier. The other Kaine had set up camp with fish already cooking over fires and berries piled high. We thanked them and reported what we'd seen—nothing further to concern us—and dug in with gusto. Even food tasted better now. We ate until full and sat back, watching the sun disappear and the stars twinkle above.

A clicking sound came from the forest. A dufo on the hunt. I would have rushed to attack before, but now Ranni, Gida, and I slipped into the trees without a whisper of noise. We swept around to the creature's other side and dropped tiny sounds along the way, drawing its attention away from camp.

I wove through the trees, above and below branches, occasionally letting myself bump a leaf-laden branch or knock a seednut loose. Ranni veered away from me, making a steady outward angle as he allowed the same brushes of noise to slip. Gida wound back and forth between the two of us.

The dufo beneath us couldn't make sense of what it heard, and it would rush my direction one moment, then dart after Gida's sound, then double back toward Ranni. Back and forth, around in circles, twisting one way and another.

The moment we were far enough away from camp, the three of us fell silent, watching and waiting. The dufo turned in circles, clicking its beak and searching for the prey it had detected only moments before. It hissed and huffed, stamping its foot spikes into the ground, then let out a shriek. Gida covered a giggle at the image of a child throwing a tantrum. We shared a smile as the dufo huffed and wandered away.

We returned to camp. Our family greeted us warmly and chuckled with us at the dufo's confusion and ensuing fit. I smiled, feeling at home like never before. Night sounds soothed us with a peaceful song. The fires died down. Gida and I leaned against each other, and soon we were asleep.

* * *

We woke early with the dawn. None of us had to ask, none had to direct; we simply went to our tasks without a word. Some collected food. Some tended the camp. And some, myself included, slipped into the trees to check on the Ikane camp.

We slowed as we neared the main road, hearing voices below. A Kadrian and a few people who might have been Nim-Elves walked together, talking animatedly. Loud. No understanding. Ikane. We waited for them to pass. We would not disturb their journey.

A clicking sound came from the other side of the road. The travelers continued chattering, unaware of the dufo stalking them. Dangerously close to them.

Again, no word or command was needed. A half-dozen of us ran the length of the branches and launched off, flying across the span of the road and landing in the trees on the other side. The rest of our family went west to find a quieter place to cross the road and continue on their way to the Ikane camp.

"Hey!" the Kadrian barked, startled by the sudden movement above. "What in the depps was that?" She and the others with her spun one way, then another, trying to figure out what had happened.

We ignored them. Ranni and I remained hidden near the road while the other four moved away from the dufo and dropped sounds like the night before, seeking to call its attention.

But the Ikane were too loud, too obvious a target. The dufo stalked closer, clicking again, its foot spike poised to lunge.

Heart heavy, I positioned myself above the dufo, Ranni poised beside me. As one, we dropped to either side of the animal. My hand found the base of its skull, and I twisted my claws inward before it had a chance to react. Ranni's claws sliced through the spine just below my own strike.

The dufo fell without a sound.

"Who's there?" the Kadrian demanded, brandishing a sword. "We won't hesitate to defend ourselves!"

Ranni crouched and touched the dufo's head, and we shared the sadness of the life lost. Sad, but necessary. We remained there only a moment before disappearing up into the trees.

The others rejoined us, and we watched as the Kadrian advanced on the foliage bordering the main road. She swatted at a bush with her sword, and we winced. If the dufo was still alive, that move alone would have gotten the Kadrian killed.

Ranni and I exchanged looks in solid agreement. The Ikane were to be protected. Maker knew they couldn't do it themselves. The other four resumed the path to rejoin the rest of our family at the Ikane camp while Ranni and I stayed behind to escort these traveling Ikane to the safety of the Temple.

The Kadrian called out again, this time pushing past the bush. "Show your—" She made a sharp squeaking noise and backed up.

"What is it?" shouted one of the others, a pinch-faced Nim with pointed ears and solid-colored eyes like an Elf. He yanked out a dagger, holding it poorly. "What's wrong?"

"A dufo," the Kadrian said, shaking her head. The others gasped, but she raised a hand. "No, it's okay. It's dead." She crouched. "It... It looks like something tore into its neck. It..." She slowly stood, raising her sword again and looking around. "Something killed this dufo with only two strikes. It looks like claw marks."

"What could have done that?" the pinch-faced one asked, his face paling.

"Could be whatever jumped over us a moment ago," the Kadrian said, backing toward her people with sword at the ready.

Another of their number, a woman with the shorter height of an Elf but the sloping forehead of a Nim, clutched close to the man. "Do you think it's still out there?"

The Kadrian peered into the trees.

I looked back at her, waiting. Part of me wanted her to see us, wanted to know that we weren't the only ones who could sense everything so clearly.

But she only shook her head. "I don't know. We better keep moving."

Ranni and I followed in the trees as the group hastened along the main road, picking up their pace toward the Temple. The Nim-Elves kept glancing back at the trees while the Kadrian hurried them onward.

"I feel like we're being watched," the pinched-face one whispered.

"Yeah," the Kadrian agreed. "We need to hurry. We'll tell the Peristas about it. I'm sure they've got someone who can patrol this road and watch for dangers."

We neared the edge of the forest. The Temple was in sight ahead at the end of the gentle, sloping curve of the road. Ranni and I stayed in the trees as the group all but raced the rest of the distance. They only slowed as they neared the archway, looking back at the trees and shuddering.

Satisfied they were safe, Ranni and I darted back through the trees to rejoin the others.

My family sat in the trees as before, watching the Ikane below. The Ikane were breaking down camp, collecting supplies and preparing to move out. Most of them did so using their magic in one way or another. Dovannel gathered his things but kept looking up in the trees.

Looking for me.

I shifted down a few branches, making my position obvious. It still took him a few more glances before he spotted me. He told Livvya and another Ikane named Kodrin he'd be right back, then walked deeper into the forest, staying on the ground this time.

I dropped down a few more branches, crouching on the lowest branch and waiting.

He offered a half-smile. "Hey. We, um, we're going now. To help villages, like we talked about."

I nodded.

"So... You can all come with us if you want. I'm sure there are things you can do to help."

Yes, we'll come. I waited, then remembered. "Yes."

"Okay. Great." He puffed out a breath. "You probably don't... You probably won't walk with us, right?"

He hoped we wouldn't. They all hoped we wouldn't. The Ikane didn't want us around.

I turned and slipped back up the tree. They would have nothing to worry about from us.

"Kibi..." He sighed, shook his head, and went to finish breaking camp.

Anastra and other leaders debated the logistics of setting out with such large numbers. It appeared Dovannel had taken my place as leader, like how Kodrin had taken Jou's place. They eventually decided on dividing up with one larger group—in the thousands—heading to Innsbrooke along the main road while the rest split off in smaller groups—in the hundreds—to fan out and find people to help. Then they started negotiating whose groups would be going which direction.

Jou and I met eyes. It was getting harder for him to comprehend how the Ikane worked in such disharmony. To be honest, it was getting harder for me to grasp, too.

Bored, my family wandered in and out of the area, hunting or racing or relaxing. Even I took a break to run through the forest, stretching my body and letting my blood flow freely once more.

Hours passed before the Ikane finally set out, dividing into their groups. Anastra led the massive group toward Innsbrooke. Other leaders teamed up, their groups joining together to spread out toward the villages. Dovannel and Bene had joined forces and headed on a slight angle south of the main road, sliding into the forest. Kodrin and Carilla marched slightly to the north. The rest spread out further in all angles north, west, and south. Runners were assigned to travel between the groups, providing updates as they went.

I looked back at my family and nodded. We split off without a word, dividing out to follow each Ikane group. Jou led some after Anastra's group. Gida slipped off behind Carilla's group. Others took the lead to follow the other Ikane groups, and the rest of our family smoothly parted after us leaders to create proportionate groups.

I followed Dovannel, Ranni at my side. We slipped through the trees, weaving ourselves around and above the Ikane. Some of the Ikane moved along branches, but most of them walked on the ground. It was like the thrill of the race had gone out of them entirely. It was slow going, but we adapted easily to the leisurely pace. We smelled flowers. We watched birds and tree rodents. We enjoyed all that was around us.

Before long, we had created a game of seeing how close we could get to the Ikane without being detected. We followed behind the movements they already tracked, matched our sounds to the minimal sounds they made, and slipped out of sight any time they turned or checked above them. The longer we played, the easier it became as we fell into synch with the Ikane completely.

A sister named Hia daringly slid down to the forest floor and matched pace alongside the Ikane for a full minute before she had to jump back up, out of view of an Ikane that started to look her way. Silent laughter rippled through us. Ranni and I followed her lead, only we dropped down at the rear of the Ikane group and walked along behind them, bobbing our heads the way they did. We felt the humor radiating from above us as we shifted our positions slightly to the right or left to stay out of peripheral vision.

Ranni and I returned to the trees when the signal came from ahead. The front end of the Ikane group was nearing a village. My family caught up quickly, watching from just out of sight. I cringed as I realized it was the place where the Elves had come at us, so angry, so afraid of us.

But it would be okay. Dovannel would recognize the place and remember. He would guide the Ikane with him to move on.

Dovannel and Bene heard the sounds of people ahead and hastened their pace. I leaned closer, waiting for Dovannel to recognize where he was.

Elves stopped what they were doing as they spotted movement in the forest. "Who's there?" a man called, his short stature in no way diminishing the potency of his presence. He hefted a massive ax almost as big as he was, glaring into the forest. Other men joined at his side while women and children clustered a safe distance behind, craning their necks and watching.

If ever there was a clear message to leave them be, that would be it. I frowned as Dovannel and Bene continued onward. They didn't even think to leave the rest of their group in the trees. Instead, all of the Ikane pressed forward to the edge of the village.

The Elf snarled. "Tulvans! We've told you lot time and again, stay away!" He raised the ax threateningly. "We will defend ourselves if we have to!"

Dovannel waved his hands in what was meant to be a peaceful gesture. "We aren't here to cause trouble—"

"Good," one of the other men said. "So leave."

"You don't understand," Bene said. "We've changed—"

"I'm sure you've done plenty of soul-searching," the leader sneered, "but that's neither here nor there as far as we're concerned. Your kind turned on us. We won't give you a chance to do it again."

"No," Bene pressed, aggressively stepping forward. "I mean we've _really_ changed." She raised her hand, and a rock shot up out of the ground, floating in front of her.

The Elves gasped. The women pulled children into buildings while more men hurried forward, weapons ready.

"No, no," Dovannel protested. "It's a gift, see? Maker made us new so we can help repair the harm we did. We offer these gifts to you, to aid you however we can."

Ranni and I exchanged looks. It was all wrong. There was no apology, no humility, no gentleness or grace. It was a wreck.

"You can't," one of the other Elf men said. "There's nothing we want from you but to be left alone. Leave. Now."

"I don't think you understand what we're offering," Bene said, taking another step forward. Several more rocks flew up in front of her. "You haven't grasped the full magnitude of what we could do."

The Elves took half a step back, weapons braced. "Stay back, Tulvan!" the leader shouted.

"We're just trying to show you what we could do to help," Dovannel protested.

All wrong. I jumped down from the trees, Ranni and two other brothers at my sides. We moved swiftly to place ourselves between the Ikane and the villagers, facing the Ikane.

"What's this?" the Elf leader demanded, startled by our sudden appearance.

The Ikane were equally startled. "They were following us?" Bene asked.

"I told you they would," Dovannel muttered to her. "Kibi, take your friends and move aside. We're trying to help this village understand that we want to make up for what we did in the past. You're not helping."

They want you to leave, I told him. You have to respect that.

"What is this?" the Elf repeated, sounding more cautious now. He wasn't sure what to make of us, but he clearly liked that we stood between them and the Ikane.

"Kibi, just go," Dovannel pressed.

"Yeah, you aren't wanted here." Bene jutted her chin my direction, then addressed the Elves. "Ignore them. They—they've gone feral. They aren't like us anymore."

"Not like you?" The Elf eyed us. He was already warming up to us without us having said a word.

Then I realized it was true; I hadn't said a word. Not out loud, at any rate. "Leave," I said to the Ikane.

"Yeah," the Elf readily agreed. "What she said."

"We don't take orders from your kind," Bene hissed.

I took a step toward her, and she stumbled backwards. Ranni and the other two brothers moved along with me, taking one slow step forward after another in unison, our faces reflecting how serious we were. The rest of my family poised out of sight, ready to move in at my signal.

The Ikane rumbled as they shifted back, watching us with uncertainty, looking to their leaders for direction.

"Get out of our way," Bene challenged, bringing more rocks up between us.

"Leave," I repeated with another steady step forward. "You are not wanted."

"You're one to talk about not being wanted," Bene retorted.

"I'd rather have them around than you," the Elf snapped. He brandished his ax. "Do as she says, or we'll be forced to defend ourselves."

"Are you thick?" Bene scowled. "We're here to _help_!"

Dovannel caught her hand. "Let's go," he said under his breath. "This isn't getting us anywhere."

She scowled a moment longer, then spat at me and turned away from the village. The rocks she'd held in midair tumbled to the ground.

The four of us Kaine held our ground as the Ikane milled in a loose marching column to make their way around the village. Most of them glared at us as they passed, but none of them made any move toward us.

Once the Ikane had moved on, we turned back to the villagers and bowed. "We are sorry," I said. With that, we returned to the trees. My family darted after the Ikane, but I paused a moment to watch the village.

As the Ikane departed, the men slowly let down their guard and the other villagers peeked out of the buildings. The leader waved them on. "They're gone. We're safe." He cast one more look across the treeline, then shook his head and turned back to his people.

Satisfied all was well, I slipped through the trees and soon caught up with the rest of my family. They expressed their worries about the tone amongst the Ikane below. About what the leaders were saying. I nodded and slid ahead, matching pace with the front of the Ikane group, where Dovannel and Bene argued loudly.

About us.

Chapter 6

"I knew they were there somewhere, but I didn't know _exactly_ where they were," Dovannel protested.

"You still should've mentioned something," Bene huffed.

"Fine. What was that 'feral' stuff about?"

She shrugged. "Can you come up with a better term for it? They stare. They hide in the trees. They move all at once, like they know what the others are going to do before they do it. It's creepy. It's like they aren't even people anymore." She let out a sniff. "They sure don't act like people anymore. Ferals."

"I don't like it."

"Yeah, well, I don't like it, either."

Dovannel gave her a look. "I mean, I don't like you calling them that. They're still people."

"You're just saying that because your girlfriend's one of them."

"Kibi's not my girlfriend." His ears reddened. "We're just good friends."

"Mm-hmm. Maybe when you wake up and see that she's gone, you'll realize she's not the only Tulvan around." Bene sauntered ahead.

Hia hid a giggle. I shot her a look. The fact that she understood full well my platonic relationship with Dovannel didn't stop her from teasing. Like a sister.

I rolled my eyes and returned my attention downward. One of the Ikane was missing, the one designated as a runner. Probably off to tell others about our interference. I only hoped that the other Ikane were doing better in approaching villages with humility and a willingness to comply with the villagers' desires. It was the only way we could ever hope to repair the trust we'd broken.

Discontented rumbled continued through the Ikane as we continued on. They were more alert now, actively trying to spot us. Ranni grinned and dropped to the forest floor, walking alongside them without being seen. I frowned and shook my head. While the new alertness made the game that much more of a challenge—and therefore each success that much more of a delight—moderation and humility were better. We would not risk furthering the bad blood between us and the Ikane. He pouted only briefly before rejoining us.

As the sun began to dip low, the Ikane reached the rolling plains that I had travelled so recently with Dovannel and the others. They stopped just inside the treeline, conferring again.

After several minutes of whispered conversation, Dovannel slowly walked back along their route. "Kibi? Are you still up there?"

I felt my family's unease and stayed put.

"Look, we're leaving the forest. You won't be able to hide in the trees anymore. I think it's better if you stay here." He hesitated, scratching his neck. "I think you like it better up there, anyway."

Sadness washed over me. I dropped down, touching off branches along the way to control my descent, and landed on the ground in front of him.

He leapt backwards. "Darkest moon, Kibi! You just about put me in a heart fix!"

I straightened. "We will help."

Bene glared, storming up to Dovannel's side. "You've been enough help already, Feral. About all the _help_ we can take."

"Bene," Dovannel chided.

I met her eyes. "We will help." A calm statement undergirded with challenge. We were going along and helping, like it or not. And it was entirely up to them whether we would be helping them or helping the villagers.

She glared at me a moment longer, then slashed out with her claws, coming within a fingerlength of my face.

Unimpressed, I maintained my gaze and waited.

She spat. "Feral." She spun and stalked back to her camp.

Dovannel sighed and turned back to me. "Ignore her."

I already had.

"You just... I don't know if you realize it, but you really are acting weird. The way you and your friends move all at the same time, stare without talking... it really does seem, well, unnatural."

I waited. He couldn't bring himself to say the word 'feral,' but I knew it was on his mind.

He started to reach out to link his finger with mine, then stopped. "We'd be happy to have your help," he finally said, "as long as you let us take the lead. No more interfering like you did back there, understand?"

I understand, I told him. Do you?

He met my gaze a moment longer, then shook his head and walked back to the treeline.

I felt my family's call from above, and I returned to the trees. Hia put a hand on my shoulder, knowing my sadness and offering her comfort. Ranni touched my hand on the other side. Others reached in, giving touches of gentle consolation. I felt the warmth of their comfort and basked in it.

Dovannel and Bene conferred a moment longer, then led their group out of the forest.

My family and I perched at the very edge of the treeline. We could see a city from here, the one where Dovannel and I had helped fight off the dufos. At least these people had some reason to see us in a more favorable light. That, combined with a lot more humility on the part of the Ikane, might mean better results here.

But if the Ikane behaved like before... The city was too far from the treeline for us to intervene quickly. We would have to go with them.

I dropped out of the forest, my family with me. We moved forward to walk parallel to the Ikane, a respectful distance but close enough to intervene.

An Ikane near the back of the group spotted us and nudged another, sending a cascade of whispers through the group.

When word reached Bene, she spun and glared. "Hey!" she shouted. "Ferals! Go back to the forest!"

We walked on, unconcerned.

A few other Ikane added their own colorful taunts, but Dovannel called for quiet. They had attracted attention in the nearby city, and several people had gathered, watching our approach.

The Ikane marched straight to the city while we kept a respectful distance. Only Ranni and I approached. The others would come if our help was welcome—or necessary.

The Kadrian city leader we'd encountered before walked out to meet the Ikane, eying them with caution. "I remember you," she said to Dovannel. "Why have you returned? And why with so many?"

"We're here to help," he said carefully. He and Bene had discussed how to word their offer, and he was taking a much better stance of humility this time. Perhaps they would get it right.

"You did help, and we thanked you for that. There is nothing more you can do for us," the woman replied.

"We are here to make atonement," Bene supplied. "We have been remade by Maker with greater powers than we had before. We have magic now, and we can use it to do many incredible things on behalf of your city."

"We could craft new buildings for you in moments," Dovannel took up the lead again. "We could tend your crops in half the time it takes now. We could—"

The woman held up a hand as others hovered behind her, listening in. "You have magic, you say?"

"Amazing magic," Bene said, her eyes glinting.

A Nim came up beside the woman and whispered to her. I felt their concern, their distrust. I knew their response before they voiced it.

"I understand you could do incredible things," the Kadrian pronounced carefully, "but we are happy as we are. Thank you."

"You don't understand," Bene said. "Look!" She lifted her hands, making the ground beneath her rise so she towered above them.

The citizens shifted backwards, watching with wide and fearful eyes. The Nim stepped in front of the Kadrian, his eyes narrowing.

"Bene." Dovannel gestured her back down. "What she means is, imagine what power like that could do for you."

"And imagine what it could do if used against us," the Nim retorted sharply. "Your kind turned on us before, Tulvan. What guarantee do we have that it won't happen again?"

Ranni and I stepped forward to face Dovannel and Bene. Their concerns are understandable, I told the Ikane leaders. We need to go.

"Oh, bunk off!" Bene snarled in my direction.

"Time to go," I said quietly.

The Nim looked from me to Bene. "That's right. Time to go."

Dovannel nudged Bene, giving her a significant look. Apparently they had discussed respecting the wishes of the people, too.

Bene grunted and folded her arms. "Fine. But we'll leave two of our kind behind to help defend your city."

"Bene." Dovannel stepped closer to her, speaking under his breath for only her to hear. He had to realize we would hear it too. "We agreed that would be an offer, not a demand."

"Just because these backwards ingrates don't realize how much we could help them doesn't mean we walk away and leave them defenseless," Bene snipped.

"Backwards ingrates?" the Kadrian thundered.

The Nim grabbed his sword. "Keep talking like that, Tulvan, and you'll see just how 'defenseless' we are."

The Ikane surged forward a couple steps in response to the challenge.

My family moved fast, sweeping in from both sides in matching wedges, forcing the Ikane back. Rumbles of alarm shot through the Ikane. They hadn't even noticed when my family divided and flanked them.

I turned and bowed to the Kadrian. "We will leave."

Bene snarled, "We don't—"

"BENE." Dovannel glared at her, then gestured her back with a jerk of his head.

She scowled at my family, resting her hateful gaze on me for a minute before turning. "Good luck. These Ferals are the kind of threat we could have protected you against." She hollered orders to the Ikane, and they shuffled away with no small amount of grumbling.

The Nim and Kadrian eyed my family with caution.

I bowed again. "We apologize." My family responded to my unspoken directions, bowing and politely backing away.

The Kadrian studied me. "I remember you, too. You—you've changed."

I dipped my head.

"We appreciate what you did, getting them to leave," she said. "Thank you. And for what it's worth, we forgive you for your past deeds. Perhaps not them, but you."

We all bowed a final time, then left, following behind the retreating Ikane.

The Ikane came to a stop near the main road at a polite distance from the city, several glancing back to cast more insults in our direction. The rest deliberated with frequent glances at us.

Ranni sniffed. They were like competing breezes, drawing up a fuss without any substance. I smiled along with the rest of my family. He was right.

We waited as they argued, keeping a respectful distance as before. Several runners had arrived even as they sent one of their own. The runners and the leaders clustered together in the middle of the group, probably trying to keep us from knowing what was going on. It was harder to tell, but we saw enough to know that this Ikane group wasn't the only one having trouble with my family. All of the Ikane were returning to the valley near the Temple to try to deal with the problem.

I found it a relief. At least they weren't going to harass any more people. And with any hope, the Peristas would help us get the Ikane to see reason. My family joined in my relief, and we slipped ahead of the Ikane to the trees.

As the Ikane approached the forest, I saw Bene lean closer to Dovannel. She was suggesting they go back to the original plan now that my family had left.

He looked at her and spoke just loud enough that I could hear. "You really think they left?"

Bene shut up, a scowl on her small face.

The day had stretched late into night, and the Ikane settled in to sleep before the long trip back to the camp. A few started to climb, then looked up into the trees with uncertainty before retreating.

"You want them to think we're scared of them?" Bene snapped at those Ikane. She scowled up at the empty branches above her. "Because we're not! You just try to start some trouble, I dare you, and you'll see what we can really do with these new gifts!"

Ranni rolled his eyes.

The Ikane stared up at the trees for a long time as if waiting for a response, then returned to settling in, all of them finding resting places on the forest floor rather than in the trees. Still, they watched the branches above them.

For our part, we settled down with ease and comfort. The Ikane were no threat to us. We slept peacefully.

My family woke before the Ikane when morning came. We'd already taken care of ourselves and eaten breakfast when those below us finally stirred. We had to wait patiently while they got ready to set out.

We tracked the Ikane through the trees as before. Our levity had faded, and we took the job of overseeing them seriously now. We especially watched as they neared the Elf village, but thankfully, the Ikane gave the place a wide berth.

They reached the valley late in the evening. Other groups had already gathered there, and we heard more coming. As for our family, Gida and some other leaders were already there, sitting in the trees with their groups and watching the activity below.

More of our family joined us, all with the same report. The Ikane had tried to push themselves where they weren't wanted. They had approached with no humility, no remorse, and had been rebuffed. We weren't the only ones who'd had to step in to get the Ikane to back off.

Anastra's group was the last to return, long after the others had settled into their camps. They looked exhausted and angry. Obviously they'd made it a fair distance down the main road before the news had reached them and forced them to turn back.

Jou slipped through the trees and sat on the branch beside me, nodding his head toward Anastra. She'd been furious when she heard the reports, and she was the one who'd given the order for them all to return. She didn't want to get to Innsbrooke and be embarrassed by us 'Ferals.' Apparently Bene's chosen name for us had caught on.

The Ikane leaders shifted their gathering place to the far end of the valley, as far from the treeline as possible. They evidently wanted to be sure they weren't spied on. Reasonable. Most of my family returned to the peaceful area by the river while a select few of us stayed put to keep an eye on things.

Ikane stalked along the treeline, peering around and up, holding a solid guard. Jou nudged me with amusement. The Ikane stood so close, it would be a simple matter of jumping right over their heads if we wanted to enter their camp. The mental image made me smile.

Very little happened for the rest of the day. The Ikane leaders sat at the bonfire and talked late into the night. Clusters of Ikane closest to the forest eyed the trees warily, sharing stories. Wild claims of vicious attacks by the Ferals. Some proclaimed they had barely made it out alive. Others boasted of soundly beating us.

I sighed inwardly. None of them had been attacked by Kaine. The stories were invented to further divide us from the Ikane. To turn us into faceless monsters which must be defeated.

Gradually, the Ikane settled down, and the chatter faded into the sounds of night.

I leaned back on my branch and softly sang back to the nightbirds. Jou settled in beside me. We had the same concerns about the Ikane, but there was no point in worrying about what tomorrow might bring. Maker had it in hand, and we would deal with what was to come as it came. Jou joined in the song, deep and low with the insect murmurs, a soft harmony with my birdsong. The tension of the day melted, and we smiled as we fell asleep.

The Ikane kept up a close watch through the night, though it wasn't necessary. It seemed to help them feel better, anyway. The rest of them woke within the first hour after daybreak, about the same time most of my family returned, bringing fruits and meats for those of us who had stayed.

Nothing of interest happened below for another hour. Finally the Ikane leaders wove their way through camp to the treeline. My family and I watched with curiosity. The leaders stopped just behind the guards, talking quietly to them. Giving them directions to move back but stay alert.

They expected trouble.

Anastra moved forward, the other leaders just behind her. "We know you're out there. We want to talk."

We glanced at each other, and with mutual agreement, Jou, Gida, and I dropped down and stepped clear of the trees.

Many of the Ikane shifted forward, claws at the ready, but Anastra put up a hand, stilling them. "We only wish to talk."

As do we, I agreed.

She slowly took in our faces before settling on Jou's, focusing mainly on him with occasional glances to monitor her surroundings, as was the Ikane way. "We clearly have some sort of... misunderstanding between our people. We wish to remedy that."

She was waiting for a response. I spoke up. "As do we."

"Good." Anastra shifted her broken, scanning gaze my direction. "We are trying to offer our help to people. Your people seem to have a problem with this. Care to explain?"

"Not offering," I said. "Demanding."

Her eyes narrowed. "There is much good we could do for these people. Do you deny this?"

"As long as it's wanted."

"People don't know what they want," Bene challenged from behind Anastra. "Once we've been around them for a while, they'll see how much they need us."

I kept my focus on Anastra, hoping to see some flicker of understanding in her constantly moving gaze. "Humility."

"We are offering ourselves for service," Carilla retorted. "What's more humble than that? And we were doing just fine when _your_ people decided to attack us!"

I felt the stir of my people in the forest behind me. "False."

Carilla's eyes narrowed. "Are you calling me a liar?"

I waited.

She took an aggressive step forward. "Well, Feral? Are you?"

"We attacked no one."

"That's a laugh!" Bene scowled. "What did you call it when you and your _freaks_ charged us at that last city?"

"Defending the city's wishes."

Bene fumed, but Anastra held up a hand once more. "We're getting nowhere. It amounts to this. We are not going to let Maker's gift come to nothing. We will go and help people. And you will not interfere. Do you understand?"

We will step in where needed, Jou told her.

She looked us over again. "I said, do you understand?"

"If you are helping," I said, "we will not interfere." Even they, in spite of their lack of understanding, had to grasp the unspoken inversion: if they were not helping, we _would_ interfere.

Her eyes narrowed. She did understand. "Is that a challenge?"

"It is truth."

Anastra's claws clicked out. "There's about six thousand of us and only two thousand of you. If it comes to a fight, who do you think will win?"

I didn't waver. "The better fighters."

"How's this for better?" Bene snapped.

The ground under my feet shifted. I stepped off the moving patch without looking away from Anastra.

Bene snarled in frustration and sent a rock flying at me. I dodged it, still without looking away.

"Fine," Anastra said, raising her hands. "A demonstration, then."

With that, she and the other leaders attacked.

I dropped under a whip of water and caught the ground before a gust of wind tore me away. I saw a gesture from Bene and released the ground before it could move on me, letting the wind carry me into Carilla. An elbow to the nose staggered her.

Gida was already behind Anastra, sliding with ease around each Ikane and causing their attacks to run into each other. Dovannel's water whip lashed at her and caught Bene across the midsection. Bene shouted and spun in a circle, tearing up the ground in a rush after Gida and instead unseating Kodrin.

Jou and I swept after Gida, taking advantage of the distraction she provided to precisely attack each one. We took care to hold back, to avoid causing any real harm.

The Ikane behind the leaders tensed, ready to move at a command. It wasn't long before the magic attacks ended, the Ikane leaders gasping and stumbling to recover from our strikes and—more so—from their inadvertent attacks on each other.

Jou, Gida, and I stood back in our original positions, waiting.

"Get them," Bene hissed, still holding her midsection as she spat the command to the Ikane behind her. "Get them!"

A few dozen of our family members dropped from the trees, filling in behind us as the Ikane shifted forward. The Ikane came to an abrupt stop.

We waited.

Anastra held up a hand, clutching her own side. She cast a cold look across us, then waved her people back. "That's enough." Bene started forward, but Anastra caught her arm. "I said, That's. Enough." She glared at Bene until the shorter woman backed off. Then Anastra turned her glare back to us. "This conversation is over."

I couldn't help myself. I gave a slight bow. "It was a pleasure _conversing_ with you."

Silent laughter all but shook the trees as we rejoined the rest of our family. Gida and Jou elbowed me, sharing the amusement. We darted away from the camp a distance before climbing higher and returning to our unseen perches.

The Ikane guard stood at the treeline once more, glaring up and scanning fiercely. They still didn't see us. The leaders had returned to their gathering point and were deep in animated debate.

I squeezed Gida and Jou's hands. It had been so easy to fight at their sides. We knew each other's moves as easily as we knew what actions the Ikane would take next. If the rest of us had joined in, it would have been the same.

A few hours passed before Anastra, Carilla, and Kodrin approached and stood behind the guardline, a mass of other Ikane clustered behind them. Anastra addressed the trees. "We're going to the Temple. That's all. We expect to be allowed safe passage."

Offense jabbed through my family. As if we would ever attack unprovoked! I quieted them, and we waited in unhappy, but patient, stillness.

Finally, the Ikane guardline parted enough for the group to pass through. They continued scanning as they moved back into place, tense and ready. Anastra's group walked through the forest, watching the branches above them intensely and jumping at any little movement.

Jou and I followed as the rest of our family ignored them. When we reached the main road, he and I stayed in the forest while the Ikane hurried toward the Temple. We waited, giving them plenty of time to reach the archway.

Gida came up behind us, but we told her to stay with the others. Jou and I would go alone for this, lest the Ikane feel threatened. I sensed her concern echoed by others in the family, but we agreed that Jou and I would be able to escape without trouble if the Ikane decided to start something.

We climbed the main road to the archway and weren't entirely surprised to see several of the Ikane still there, most of them guarding the entryway.

"There!" one of the Ikane shouted, pointing. "There's two of them!" The other Ikane pressed together, claws out and ready, blocking the entrance.

Perista Liyin moved through them, gently easing them aside as she passed.

Carilla caught her shoulder from behind. "They're dangerous, Perista. You can't let them get close to you. They don't think like people anymore." She glared at us. "Like we said, they've gone Feral."

The Perista patted Carilla's hand. "I'm confident you will be able to protect me should the need arise."

Carilla scowled a moment longer, but reluctantly let go.

Perista Liyin stepped away from the Ikane and pressed her hands together.

Jou and I echoed the gesture.

The Perista looked from him to me. "You aren't here to hurt anyone, are you?"

No, I told her. Then I remembered. "No."

She smiled. "Then you are welcome here, as always."

The Ikane put up a protest, but Perista Liyin led us through them. Jou and I ignored the hostile looks and threatening postures around us.

She waited while we washed our hands at the basin, then gestured us into the courtyard. "May you find what you're seeking."

I thanked her, and we passed through the courtyard straight to the cathedral. Inside, Anastra and Kodrin stood with Perista Wenn, talking loudly.

They cut off when they spotted us. "They need to leave," Anastra said sharply. "They should not be welcome here."

"We welcome all," Perista Wenn countered, his voice tempered with kindness. "And were you not just saying you needed help resolving your differences?"

"It's a lot more than simple _differences_ ," Kodrin said. "They're trying to stop us from using the gifts Maker gave us!"

"Only when unwanted," I said.

Anastra folded her arms. "They don't understand, Perista. They think we're some sort of threat to people, and they keep attacking us whenever we try to help."

"Defending," I corrected.

Perista Wenn raised an eyebrow at Anastra.

She shook her head. "I don't know what happened to them, but this can't be what Maker wanted for them. They've lost who they used to be."

"You all have. You've been remade," Wenn reminded her.

"Not like them. They... they've lost their personhood. They're more like a clutch of trongials than people."

Wenn looked over Jou and I in our patient stillness, seeming to mentally contrast us against the wild, thrashing beasts. "Trongials?"

"A family pack of dufos, then. The point is, they behave more like animals than people anymore." Anastra gestured to us. "Just look how they stare. Vacant."

Wenn faced me and met my eyes. He smiled. "Hardly vacant, if you choose to see."

I smiled back.

"Then perhaps you can talk some sense into them." Anastra squared her shoulders at me and spoke slowly. "Because if they continue to interfere, we will have no choice but to fight." With that, she and Kodrin stalked out of the cathedral.

Perista Wenn watched them go with sadness in his eyes. "It is a shame when people cannot see."

Jou and I agreed.

He turned to us. "You certainly have changed. Even from when I saw you last."

We agreed again.

He studied us for a moment, then dipped his thumb in the water and pressed it to each of our foreheads. "I trust that you will seek out what is right. I will pray that you and the others can find reconciliation. I only hope that it does not come to violence."

I saw him waiting and remembered to speak out loud. "We hope."

He pressed his hands together, and after returning the gesture, we left.

As we returned to the courtyard, I glanced over and saw Luda working in the garden. I nodded for Jou to stay with the benches while I approached her. A few seekers looked at me in fear and shrank away, murmuring.

I ignored them, instead crouching to help Luda tend the nevvit patch. We worked together in silence for a minute before I looked at her.

No triangles on her cheeks. No triangle on her forehead.

I asked, then remembered to speak out loud. "You didn't choose."

"It wasn't offered. Not to me."

"You..."

"Wenn says Maker has something else in store for me." She yanked out a dense knot of roots. "I only hope it comes soon."

I understood.

She eyed me. "What's happened?"

I told her how wrong it was, the Ikane trying to force themselves on people. They were making it worse for all of us.

"You have to say it out loud," she corrected.

I met her eyes. She almost understood. Closer than anyone else so far. I sighed. "They want to help."

"But they aren't."

"They don't understand."

She looked back to the plants. "We had a visitor from a nearby village. He told us about a group of Tulvans trying to push their help where they weren't wanted. He also told us about some other Tulvans who stopped them. Quiet Tulvans. Kind of creepy."

I couldn't help a smile.

Her lips twitched upwards, too. "Is that what it'll be from now on? Them trying to 'help' and you trying to stop them?"

No, I told her. At least, I didn't want it to be. "They should stop."

"And if they don't?"

I had no answer.

"It sounds like their ambition is taking over."

I nodded.

"I don't know what they might do," she continued, "left to their own devices."

I pushed my hair out of my face. I understood.

She straightened, planting her hands on her knees. "We have many regrets in recent past."

And more regrets to come, I knew, if we let the Ikane continue on their current path. I nodded.

She returned the nod. "I knew you'd understand."

A snuffing sound came. The dragon looked down through the open space above the garden, peering down at us. He had sensed that something was wrong and was checking on Luda. The gesture was endearing.

He tipped his head to the side, his eyes holding puzzlement. He knew I had understood his concern. He just wasn't sure how I'd understood.

I offered my reassurance. Luda was in no danger here.

He snuffed again, squinted at me, then backed away, out of sight.

Luda eyed me. "Did you just... _talk_ to the dragon?"

Don't you? I asked.

"Out loud," she reminded me.

"You speak to the dragon."

She shrugged. "Not since I returned the ring to Lady Tash's family. But he understands enough. Usually." She paused. "Not as much as I just saw with you, though."

I understood.

Luda scrutinized me a moment longer, then returned to her work. "Good. Maybe he'll have someone else to pester now."

I hid a smile, instead pressing my hands together as I stood.

Jou rejoined me, and we left, ignoring the Ikane glaring at us. Anastra gave me a particularly cold, calculating look as we passed, and I felt a shiver of disturbing knowledge.

She was planning something. Something big.

Chapter 7

The Ikane leaders gathered and ate midday meal, talking quietly amongst themselves. I wished there was a way to get closer undetected. I saw Dovannel shaking his head a lot. A flicker of hope stayed strong in me, hope that perhaps he might understand. At least a little bit.

My family tried to coax me to go relax, to take in the sun and the breeze, to breathe free air away from all this, at least for a short time. I brushed them off. I wanted to know what was happening. More than that, I needed to be there if the Ikane wanted to speak again. My family had to reluctantly agree to that one. Of us all, I found it easiest to form words to speak. It was another unspoken truth, like Jou's and my leadership. It seemed Maker saw fit to give me this position, and I would do my best to fill it.

Gida pressed more, but finally gave up trying to convince me and braided my hair instead, twining in small flowers she'd found on one of her runs through the forest. She gave me larger flowers, beautiful teal ones with sweet nectar glossing the centers. I smiled my thanks.

The talk from the leaders grew louder, and Dovannel stood up and stormed away from the others. I watched all the closer as he made his way through the camp to the treeline and shoved past one of the guards.

"Hey!" the guard barked. "Get back in here!"

"I'm going hunting," Dovannel snapped back. "If the Ferals come after me, then so be it."

The guards shook their heads as he disappeared into the trees.

I followed above him, curious. He'd been false when he said he was going hunting. Why?

He slowed as he got some distance from the camp. "Kibi? Are you here?" He slowly turned around, searching the trees. "Or if it's another one of you, can you send me Kibi? I need to talk to her, and I don't have long."

Ranni slid beside me, ready to jump down at my side.

I put a hand on his shoulder. No, I would go alone. I asked him to back off and give us some privacy. Ranni frowned, but complied.

"Kibi?" Dovannel called again.

I climbed down, taking it slow so I didn't scare him.

Despite my best effort, he still looked startled when he spotted me. "You're really here. I wasn't sure you'd come."

I waited.

He cautiously stepped closer and scanned the trees around us. "Are there..."

"You wanted to talk," I said.

He blew out a breath. "I don't have much time before they expect me back. I'm afraid... I'm afraid things are about to turn bad. Disastrous, even. I don't want to see that happen."

"What things?"

He looked up at the trees again, then took another step closer. "I can't... Listen. I'll sneak out after evening meal. I'll tell everyone I'm going to the Temple to seek. They won't be surprised if I'm gone for a long time, and evening duties are light enough that they won't need me around. When I go, follow me. We'll talk once we're far from here. I think there's a way we can end this, a way that both our sides can agree to. But... Can you make it just you? I don't..." He looked above us again.

"I understand."

He met my eyes and hooked his finger with mine. "Is there any way I can help you understand that we're just trying to help?"

"We understand your intent."

"Then you'll let us be?" Hope lit up his face.

"If you let them be."

His face fell, and his hand slipped away from mine. "Right. I'll... Just watch for me, okay?"

I nodded.

He awkwardly put a hand on my shoulder. "I wish things could be like they were before."

I agreed.

He turned back toward camp.

I sensed Ranni nearing and looked up to see him crouched above us, holding a dead braybun. I caught it from him. "Dovannel."

My friend turned, and I held up the prey. "You went hunting."

Dovannel looked startled and scanned the seemingly empty trees. "You..."

Take it and go, I told him. Don't worry about where it came from.

He hesitated a moment longer, then took the braybun and left.

I rejoined Ranni in the trees and thanked him for helping Dovannel. Ranni followed me back to the rest of our family, his concern radiating out to the others as they understood what had transpired. They didn't want me to go, especially not alone.

Jou caught my arm as I settled back down. He was concerned that Dovannel wouldn't understand. That he would try to attack like he had with the leaders earlier that day.

He might, I agreed, but I didn't think so. He seemed to genuinely want to meet with me, to try to talk to me. And if he was willing to talk, then maybe I could sway his mind. I had to at least try.

Jou blew out a sigh. I should at least take others with me, he said. There is something false here.

I agreed. Dovannel was false when he said he thought there was a solution both my family and the Ikane would agree to. He just wanted to talk me into seeing things their way. That had been clear enough. But talking was better than doing nothing but spying on them. It at least opened up a hope that he might listen.

Still, I didn't want Dovannel to feel threatened. He had suspected others were around when he spoke to me, and I could tell it had stopped him from saying certain things he wanted to say.

Jou looked away, and I knew he planned on following me anyway.

No, I told him. Please, let me do this.

He sighed. Then change something, he told me. The timing, the location. Get him off-guard.

Agreeing, I moved to a new position, perched above the path from the Ikane camp to the Temple. And I waited.

The hours passed slowly, but finally evening meal was done. I watched Dovannel speak to a few in his group, then a couple of the other leaders. With that, he headed for the path.

He reached the guardline and spoke a little too loudly. "I'm going to the Temple. I'll be seeking for a while. Don't worry about me."

"You should take an escort to get through the forest," one of the Ikane said, casting a suspicious look at the trees.

"They won't hurt someone going to the Temple." He spoke louder, addressing the forest. "I'm sure they wouldn't hurt someone who just wants to seek."

The Ikane shrugged. "If you say so."

Dovannel brushed past the guard and walked down the path.

I followed from above, contemplating how to best direct him. I waited until we'd gotten out of sight of the camp, then moved slightly away from the path and dropped a seednut off the tree. It clattered its way down the branches, landing a short distance from Dovannel.

He jumped and stared, then looked up into the tree. "Kibi?" he whispered.

I scooted a couple trees further away and dropped another one.

He hesitated, then took a few steps toward the sound.

Encouraged, I continued on, slowly dropping treenuts or berries or whatever was solid enough to make a movement or sound he could track. I watched closely for signs that he himself was being followed and saw none. The only thing I noticed was that the soft soil below created obvious footprints behind him. I'd have to stay vigilant in case one of the other Ikane decided to track him down.

I moved at random for a few more minutes before deciding we were far enough away from the Ikane. I climbed down and joined him on the forest floor.

"I take it you didn't like my plan," he said.

"We're safe," I replied. "Let's talk."

He glanced around. "I don't want my people to see us. They wouldn't understand. You know?"

Did I ever.

He shifted his weight, clearly unnerved as he scanned the trees. "I suppose we're being watched, then?"

"Just you and me." I told him I wanted to talk as much as he did.

"Really?" He waited for a reply, then shrugged. "I admit I'm surprised. You've all become so... close. I guess. You do realize how creepy it is when you all move and look and do something at the same time, right?"

I echoed his shrug.

"Well, it is." He exhaled. "That's not why I wanted to talk to you. Listen, Kibi. I know you're worried about what we're doing. I get it. We can be... excited, I guess, about our new powers. And maybe we get too excited sometimes."

Hope grew. Maybe he did understand.

"So why don't you join us? Come along and help us help the people. We're powerful, and you're... um, you're good at watching for things, right? And you can help keep us in line. I know Bene gets over-excited sometimes. She doesn't mean to, but she does. It would be helpful to have someone else watching for that."

She's not the only one, I told him. I remembered, but I didn't bother correcting myself to speak out loud. What was more important, and had me sadder, was that he was being false. He didn't think there was anything wrong with what they were doing.

"We could do so much together," he pressed, leaning closer as if to whisper, his eyes carefully scanning in the direction of his camp. "You and I worked together so perfectly before. It could be like that again." He touched my hand, hooking our fingers together. "You and me, leading the newly made Tulvans into glory. And we'll fix what we did before. We'll make it all right. You, me, us. Together."

I took a half step back, breaking his touch. It felt cold and distant, not like the warmth and shared emotions I had with my family. I waited for him to meet my gaze.

He didn't.

"We could be together," I finally said. "If our goals align."

"We want to help people," he insisted.

"You would protect through force." I kept my gaze steady, though he still only scanned the direction of his camp, watching to make sure we weren't discovered. "We can't allow it."

He sighed. "You really won't change your mind?"

"Will you?"

"Then what about a new goal?" He briefly glanced my way before resuming his scan.

I caught hesitancy in his gaze and felt unsettled in my core. I opened my senses further, straining to hear around us. It wasn't my family I sensed; they had respected my request for privacy. I couldn't sense the Ikane nearby, either. But something was wrong.

He continued, not noticing my change. "We'll all march out together to Innsbrooke. We'll place a contingent to protect the palace, including some of your people to keep watch on things, if you want. And the rest of us will cross the wall and bring an end to the Hranite threat permanently."

I stared at him, feeling sick. "Become the monsters."

"No, destroy the monsters," he corrected.

I shook my head, then realized I hadn't moved enough for him to see. I made the movement larger. "We do as they do, we become them."

"You can't tell the difference—"

"You do not understand."

He sighed and shuffled his feet. His voice pitched a step louder. "Okay. I guess that's it, then."

Meaning hung heavy in his words. He'd just made a signal. I didn't know who he was signaling, but I wasn't going to wait to find out. I shifted my feet to jump.

The ground disappeared from under me before I had a chance to move. I managed to catch the edge of the newly formed hole and pulled, but hands caught my feet, many hands yanking me downward.

Ikane. They'd followed us all right, but underground, where I couldn't detect them.

I kicked one foot free but lost my grip in the process, tumbling down into the pit. More hands tore at my sides, my arms. I curled inward as tight as I could, sensing for the exact moment they began to relax, then burst outward. Breaking free, I leapt for the edge of the hole.

The dirt gave way under my hands and thundered down on top of me, smashing me to the bottom of the hole. More and more poured over me, pinning me under its weight. A mass of it lifted and smashed down over my face, slamming my head back against the ground and smothering me.

I dimly heard Dovannel's voice through the dirt. "That's enough, Bene." The dirt moved away from my face, letting me breathe once more.

I struggled to break free, looking up with desperation at Dovannel's sad eyes. I twisted, trying to push off the earthen weight. All I had to do was get clear of the hole and into the trees—

Something slammed into the side of my head, and everything was gone.

Chapter 8

I hurt.

The pain webbed outward through my body, centering on my head where I'd been hit the hardest. It seemed our senses of our environment weren't the only things that had increased; physical sensations of pain had been magnified, too. I steadied my breathing and focused beyond the pain.

I felt the sun on my face. Still daylight, though late into evening, and no trees between me and the sky. My hands were pinned behind me. I felt rough edges of rope and soft dirt. Actually, it felt like I was encased in the dirt. I tested my surroundings, then let my eyes crack open, not sure I believed what my senses told me.

But I'd been right. I was buried up to my shoulders.

"It's awake," a voice called out sharply. Movement swished around me, staying at a careful distance. Lights and shapes shifted into solid forms as my vision cleared. Ikane surrounded me in a broad circle three thick, staring me down. Anastra, Bene, and Dovannel stood inside the ring, watching while the others filled in their places.

Anger flared at the sight of my friend—or, who I thought was my friend. He'd betrayed me to be captured. For a moment all I could feel was anger, but I forced myself to turn from that. I pushed the pain into the background and focused on my surroundings. Nearly a hundred Ikane in the circle, and a few hundred more just beyond. I wasn't so delusional to think it was all for me alone; they wanted to keep my family at bay. I didn't recognize the surroundings. It was a broad clearing with plains rising up on either side. Trees were sparse and few, the treeline barely visible in the distance. They'd brought me far away from anyone else, Ikane or Kaine alike.

The Ikane in the circle shifted their feet, watching me tensely. Preparing to fight.

Bene raised her hands, and the ground pushed upward against my feet, lifting me up to solid surface. I remained still, waiting.

"We know you can untie yourself, so do it," Anastra called.

I was still watching the others. They planned to attack me, but there was something else to it. My foggy brain was having trouble sorting it out, though.

"Do it, or I'll put you back in the ground," Bene ordered.

I glanced at her, then swished a claw through the rope on my wrists. It fell free, and I let my arms drop to my sides, blood rushing back into my hands.

"We're giving you a chance to get away," Anastra proclaimed, gesturing to the circle. "If you can fight your way outside of this ring, we won't pursue you. You'll be free to go."

I met her eyes, my focus still on processing what they all were telling me—not in words, but in their bodies, in their eyes.

The Ikane raised their hands and took fighting stances.

I saw it then, the thing my mind had been trying to tell me. They planned to attack, yes, but they had no intention to kill. I could see the test in Anastra's eyes. They wanted to see how well I could fight. They wanted to see what I could do. To learn any flaws that could help them fight my family.

They wouldn't kill me. And they would never let me escape, even if I did make it out of the ring—easy as that task would be. They just wanted to test me.

I remained still. And waited.

The ground rocked beneath my feet, and a gust of wind came from the side, slamming into me with painful force. I let both unseat me, and I landed hard on the ground. Fresh pains shot through my body, but I refused to let it show.

The Ikane snickered as I climbed back to my feet.

And I waited.

A snake of water whipped across my arm, leaving a stinging welt. A mass of dirt rose into a coalesced ball and shot forward, straight into my chest. Lights burst behind my eyes. I fell again, and again got up. And waited.

The snickers turned into rumblings of uncertainty. Bene stepped forward and raised her hands. I fell into a hole and only slightly braced to cushion my fall. Dirt tumbled in on me, and I remained still, standing and waiting as it filled in around me.

Sure enough, it was only a moment before the dirt pushed me back up to solid surface again.

Bene glared at me in frustration. "Don't you get it, idiot? Fight! If you can get outside the ring, you can go free!"

False.

Anastra pulled Bene back. The taller leader raised her hands. I sensed nothing at first, then movement just under the surface of the ground. Many movements, all rushing toward me. I steadied my breathing and stayed focused. I would not fight. I would not respond. I would not give them anything they could use against my family.

Root tendrils burst from the ground around my feet, shooting up my legs in criss-crossing lines that squeezed painfully tight as they wove their way upward. They twisted abruptly, slamming me into the ground. Shockwaves tore through my body, each nerve on fire. It took me a little longer to push myself back up, part of it thanks to the stiff roots still clinging to my legs. I was thankful for that; likely the Ikane would attribute my slowness to the tangling roots rather than the pain that wracked my body.

Anastra narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing me, then nodded to Dovannel.

He didn't move at first. I met his eyes for the first time, telling him everything—that I had trusted him, that he had betrayed me, that it was his fault I was subject to this torture.

He broke eye contact. I saw shame but knew it had nothing to do with what I'd told him. He didn't understand.

"Go on," Anastra muttered.

He looked almost regretful as he raised his hands.

Water formed around me, shrinking in to cover my head. I held my breath, waiting, refusing to move. They wouldn't kill me. They knew it. Soon they would realize I knew it too.

Something bashed into my side, setting a new wash of flame blazing through my senses. It took all my strength to fight instinct and stay put. I poured my focus to Dovannel, allowing the anger from before to return and multiply on itself, building into fury as I kept my eyes locked on his. Let him see what he had done. Let him burn from it.

Something slapped across my midsection hard enough to force the air from my lungs. I staggered. The water stayed with me, cocooning my head. My body shook, but I kept my focus on the anger, on Dovannel. This was his doing. I wouldn't let him forget that.

He abruptly dropped his hands, and the water splashed to the ground around me. I fell to my hands and knees into what was now thick mud below me, choking and gasping in air.

The Ikane were silent now. No more snickering. No more murmurs.

I regained my breath. Every bit of my body varied between aching and blazing with pain. I wouldn't let it show. I refused. Holding tight to my stubbornness, I pushed myself to my feet and faced Anastra once more.

"Stupid little—" Bene started, stepping forward and raising her hands.

Anastra caught Bene's wrist, eyes still on me. Then she released Bene. "Put her back in."

"We agreed—"

Anastra glared at Bene. "Do. As. I. Say."

Bene returned the glare, then finally flicked her wrist.

I sank into the mud, soon encased to my shoulders once more. I didn't break eye contact with Anastra.

Anastra looked down her nose at me, then spun on her heel and stalked away. Bene and Dovannel followed behind her, Bene with a scowl at me and Dovannel with his head drooping. The other Ikane shifted away, only a few remaining in the ring around me as guards. Little need for guards with me immobilized, but they were being extra cautious. With the tall tales I'd heard beginning, I wouldn't put it past them to already be claiming we Kaine could fly and smash through buildings at will.

I let my thoughts drift on a superficial stream, acknowledging the pains as they came and letting them drift along with everything else. Soon the pain settled into a rhythm, pulsing like my heartbeat with only occasional flares. I counted my breaths. I counted the Ikane. I counted the stars as they came out above me.

An Ikane came and gave me some water. No food. I watched them eat, then leaned my head back against the ground and let the universe expand before me. It pulsed along with my pain, diminishing the latter as sleep gradually took me over.

I woke before the Ikane stirred. My muscles ached and burned from the pounding yesterday, and my neck protested from being bent backwards all night. I breathed slowly, trying to gather as much of myself as I could. I didn't know what the day would hold, but I had little hope it would be any different from last evening. I'd seen Anastra's face when she called off the attack. She still wanted to know how we Kaine fought. She was going to do whatever she could to make that happen.

The Ikane woke and went through the morning routine. One moved closer to me, holding out a waterskin and moving slowly as if approaching a sleeping trongial. She crouched, mumbling that it was okay, it was just water, she just wanted to give me water. I wasn't sure whether I should roll my eyes or make a fake snap at her just to see her jump. I quelled the temptations and held still instead, accepting the water.

No food was offered, nor did I ask for any. Asking wouldn't have changed anything. Besides, I needed to conserve my energy. I watched as the waterbearer scurried back to the others, getting teased by a few for her skittishness.

Anastra, Bene, and Dovannel sat a distance away, conferring with their heads low and backs to me. I watched, but there wasn't enough showing for me to gather what they discussed. How to deal with me, no doubt. Beyond that, I wasn't sure. It seemed they might not be sure, themselves. I was okay with that.

It was a few hours before the Ikane filed back into the circle around me, the leaders standing inside the ring as before. Bene raised me back to solid ground. I lightly shook my arms to let the loose dirt fall off and to test my muscles. They hurt and were unquestionably stiff after my night immobilized, but it was nothing I couldn't deal with.

I turned my senses outward. The Ikane stood poised to fight as before, but different this time. They had weapons tucked away in their clothes, and they were preparing to draw. It seemed the attacks today might not be of a magical nature.

"We give you the same offer today as last night, Feral," Anastra called. "Do you understand? If you can get out of the ring, you can go free."

Still false. Her face showed it so plainly, it was almost laughable.

I kept my breathing steady. They still had no intention of killing me. They still only wanted to test. I repeated those facts over and over in my mind, using them to quell my instincts.

Anastra nodded.

Two Ikane from either side charged in, one swinging a blade, the other a mace. They shouted as they lunged, swinging hard.

They both pulled at the last moment. The blade cut a thin line across my back, sending a blast of pain through my system, one echoed as the mace smacked into my midsection.

I didn't budge. I kept my gaze on Anastra, as before. And waited.

Her eyes narrowed. She nodded again.

Four came this time, approaching slower with their weapons ready. They danced around me, ducking in for a light slash before jumping back. All of them pulled their blows, careful not to make a death strike. Still, each attack made my teeth clench tighter, my nerves bursting anew. My vision blurred.

But I stayed locked with Anestra, this time focusing my pain into anger aimed at her. She was supposed to be a leader. She preached innocence and yet condoned kidnapping and assault. She claimed to want to resolve things peacefully and yet led her people in attacking me.

A particularly hard blow tore a gash into my upper arm. I lost my breath and had to clench my fingers on the opposite hand to keep myself from falling apart. The pain compounded on itself, each new sting and smash magnifying all that had come before. I struggled to stay upright.

"Stop this," Dovannel said abruptly. "Stop it! She isn't fighting. This isn't doing any good."

"She'll fight, or she'll die," Bene snapped.

False. Even she knew there was no intent to kill me.

A blow landed hard across my shoulders. I staggered.

Dovannel spun to face Anastra. "She's not fighting. Look at her and tell me she's going to change that anytime soon."

Anastra scrutinized me.

My whole being shook, but I refused to let it best me. I kept my eyes locked with hers.

She raised a hand. "That's enough."

"You're giving up?" Bene snapped. "Come on! She won't break unless we show her we're serious!" She flicked her hand, and a rock slammed into my chest, knocking me backwards into one of the Ikane. He yelped and jumped back, but I only tumbled to the ground, the rock on top of me.

It took too long to regain my breath. I forced myself to stand again anyway. If nothing else, I would prove Dovannel right. I wasn't going to fight. It didn't matter how much they attacked me.

Anastra gripped Bene's arm, squeezing hard. "Follow the plan or get out."

Bene yanked her arm free, then turned and stalked out of the ring.

Anastra gestured to one of the Ikane behind me. As he stepped forward, I sensed his walk, his breathing, his presence. It was Lontre. I hadn't realized he was with them.

So much for flirting.

He raised his hands, and the ground turned to mush beneath me once more. The dirt rubbed against my wounds, creating fresh burns throughout my body. It was a struggle to keep my face from showing the pain.

"They really have become Feral, haven't they?" an Ikane whispered to another as the circle dispersed. "All that, and it hardly even flinched."

It was a relief to hear, and that relief buoyed me above the pain. I wasn't showing how much they hurt me. They wouldn't learn how sensitive to pain my family was.

The day stretched on. I was brought water again, only a little. They were trying to make me desperate to escape. They wouldn't succeed.

The Ikane clustered near the leaders, joining in a hushed conversation. I only caught bits and pieces. Something about my family, mainly a fear that they would manage to track us here. Something about killing me. Bene was all for that idea.

The ones guarding me switched out for other ones. The new guards were reluctant to leave the discussion, and their attention was torn that direction.

After a few minutes, someone crept toward me from behind. Lontre.

He crouched beside me, whispering. "Listen. I'm sorry. It was never supposed to go this far." He made a furtive look toward the distracted Ikane. "The guards on the far side of the circle feel the same. They're going to look the other way. I'm going to bring you up out of the ground, and we'll make a break for it. Once we reach the trees, I trust you can go from there. I'll make sure no one follows."

False. Every bit of what he'd said rang clearly false.

"Do you understand, Kibi? I'm going to get you free." He paused. "I'm truly sorry, but I need you focused now. Are you ready?"

I met his eyes and waited.

He nodded and watched the other Ikane as if waiting for the right moment to move. "Okay!" he hissed, and he brought me out of the ground again.

I waited.

He caught my hand and pulled. "Let's go!"

Though my body screamed in pain as the injuries were aggravated by the fresh air, by the movement, by his yanking, I resisted. I kept my feet planted and refused to budge.

"Come on," he hissed through clench teeth, yanking harder.

I held firm.

"Don't you get it? I'm getting you out of here! I'm setting you free!" He gave another dramatized look toward the far-too-engrossed—obviously faking—Ikane. "We don't have much time. Move!"

I met his eyes and refused.

The fake desperation on his face morphed into anger. "You would have done it for _him_ , wouldn't you have, munkbrain? If it had been him instead of me, you would have gone in an instant!"

"What do you think you're doing?" Bene demanded, storming forward and glaring at us. At him especially.

Lontre all but threw my hand away from him. "She's not moving. I told you we should've sent Dovannel."

"And I told you she wouldn't trust me. I'm the one who got her caught in the first place," Dovannel said. "Don't you get it? It didn't matter who came to her. She knew it was a trick." He eyed me. "They... _sense_ things. Things we can't."

Did he understand? Hope flickered.

"Put her back in," Anastra ordered. "Regroup."

Bene waved her hands before Lontre had a chance, and the dirt pressed in harder this time, making it impossible to draw a full breath. Lontre stormed past me, kicking some of the dust into my face as he went.

Dovannel lingered a moment as the others moved back, some returning to discussion and most returning to keep an eye on me. I met his eyes. He studied me, then cautiously approached. He spoke quietly so the others wouldn't hear. "Would you have gone if it was me?"

No, I told him. False is false, whether it's you or someone else.

He stared at me a minute longer, then shook his head and walked away.

I closed my eyes and focused outward again, away from the pain. I found myself hoping against hope that they would change their policy. They should just kill me and be done with it. There wasn't anything they could do to get me to fight back.

A tone of displeasure settled over the camp. They weren't getting what they wanted, and they were at a loss of how to fix that. They cast glares at me from time to time. Others muttered under their breath, clearly coming to the same conclusion I had. Better to kill me and get it over with.

The debate amongst the leaders grew louder and larger. Bene wanted to kill me. Dovannel thought they should let me go. Anastra wanted to stay the course and break me. Back and forth, around and around it went.

It was starting to get boring when Bene leapt to her feet and stormed through the Ikane, shoving her way through to the circle. She stomped her foot, and the dirt shot me to surface, tearing at me along the way.

"Bene," Anastra warned, walking toward us with Dovannel just behind her.

Bene lashed out, her claws slashing across my cheek. I felt each line with acute agony, but I fixed my eyes on her. Now she was the target of my fury, and I channeled it all to her. All the anger at how the Ikane had treated us, at their lies, at their determination to slander my family to others. Anger at her eagerness to hurt, to use her powers as a weapon. Anger at her unjust hatred toward me.

She slashed and punched in a rage, but I hardly felt the blows, holding tight to the connection of rage between us. My fingers curled tight on both hands. I would not move. I would not give her the satisfaction.

"Stop it," Anastra barked.

Bene punched me in the gut. "Fight me!"

"That's enough!" Anastra ordered.

"Fight, you stupid Feral!"

"She said, that's enough!" Dovannel shouted.

She backhanded me hard enough for my vision to go double. My ears rang and face stung. I clenched my teeth and returned my focus to her.

Her own teeth clenched. "Stop staring and FIGHT!" Her claws lashed forward again.

"STOP!" Dovannel shouted. His hands flew up.

I sensed rather than saw the dagger of ice shooting at us. My instinct to defend myself remained fully quelled, but a stronger instinct took over, the instinct to protect. My hand shot out and closed around the ice shard, bringing it to a stop less than a pace from its target: Bene's chest.

No one moved. No one spoke. Everyone stared at Bene, me, and the ice.

I lowered my hand to my side and let the shard fall from my fingers. It landed with a dull thud on the ground.

Shock and horror rippled across Bene's face. Then anger. Confusion. And fury. She snarled and spun on her heel. As she strode away, the ground dropped beneath me as before. I felt the burn of every new injury along with the old ones. The pain rose up, and this time I had nothing to channel it into. It overtook me into welcoming blackness.

* * *

I woke to the first glimmer of dawnlight. The Ikane slept; only a few on watch glanced my way from time to time. Dew dampened my face and hair. I breathed in the smell of fresh dirt and dried blood. The horizon glowed with soft light. I sensed the rest of my surroundings and smiled.

My family had come.

Pain reasserted itself, stabbing through my body, but it was easier to push aside now. This wouldn't be much longer. We only had to wait.

The tone in the Ikane camp was somber, dark. They got up and trudged through the motions of morning routines. Only a few furtive looks were cast in my direction. Something had changed.

It didn't take long before they shuffled into the circle once more. Anastra and a subdued but angry Bene stood within the ring.

Dovannel nodded for me to be brought up out of the ground, then approached. He stopped just in front of me, studying my face.

I held strong and waited.

"Kibi, I need you to listen to me carefully. They're done with this. Do you understand? They're going to try to kill you this time. For real. If you don't fight, they will kill you." He searched my eyes. "Do you understand?"

Truth, for once. I saw it in their stances, their faces. They had finally given up on breaking me. I told him I understood.

He gripped my shoulders. "Listen to me, Kibi. You have to understand. They are going to kill you. Tell me you understand."

Yes, I told him.

"Please." He hooked my finger with his. "You have to tell me you understand."

I searched his eyes. He didn't understand. And what broke my heart was the realization that he never would.

I pulled my finger away and nodded in a slow, deliberate dip.

He exhaled, looking away. Then he leaned in and spoke quieter. "Please—please try, Kibi. Please try to get free. I don't want them to kill you."

They wouldn't.

He backed away, then raised his hands. "She understands the terms."

The signal to attack.

The ground shifted under me, but I was already moving, dodging to the side and ducking under a snake of water whipping my direction.

The Ikane jumped in surprise at my unexpected change, but they didn't have long to dwell on it. My family, several dozen of them, dropped from the few trees around us while more leapt from beyond the nearest rise. They jumped and slid and dodged their way into the circle, moving as one.

The Ikane yelped and changed their aim, trying to catch my fast-moving family. They didn't realize that my family wasn't moving to attack. They were moving to defend and, more importantly, distract.

It worked. With the focus off me, I darted toward an opening.

"No, you don't!" Bene shouted.

The ground caught my foot. I twisted free and kept running. A massive rock slammed into my back, smashing me into the ground. It crushed downward harder and harder, squeezing the air from my lungs. I tried to twist free but couldn't budge.

Gida caught my arms and strained to pull. The ground rose up around me, trying to bury me completely. I couldn't breathe, couldn't see. I kicked. My legs wouldn't work right.

Other hands joined with Gida's, pulling mightily. The strain brought dagger pains through my arms, joining with the crushing pain through my frame from the weight on me. White crept in on the edges of my vision as my lungs burned and cried for air.

I heard Bene shout, pure hatred in her voice. She wasn't about to let me go. The hate in her voice turned to startled pain. The white in my vision turned to darkness, and everything went black.

Chapter 9

Soft, unspoken whispers drew me back to awareness. Hands touched me, anxious and fearful. I coughed hard, sucking air into my ravaged lungs. The fear faded into relief as I opened my eyes.

Jou supported my head and shoulders, and the others gathered close around me. Trees swayed dense above. I could hear the river. We were back at our clearing.

I saw in their eyes what they had experienced. They'd broken Bene's grip. Pulled me free. Escaped and returned here. They thought I was dead. I nearly had been. They'd sought me out and found me, drawing me back to myself.

Their relief and comfort washed over me. I responded with gratitude and reassurance. I was okay. They had reached me in time.

Some of them split off to tend injuries that others sustained in the fight. Some saw to my wounds, tenderly rinsing them clean and smoothing on healing salves before bandaging them. Some washed the dirt from my skin, comfort and care rich in each touch. Some even brushed and rebraided my hair. Gida smiled as she tucked little flowers into the plaits.

Jou clung to my hand. He blamed himself. He should have followed me.

I assured him it wasn't his fault. I had chosen to go alone. I'd been a fool to think I was safe with Dovannel.

Sadness washed over me at the thought. I once could trust Dovannel. He'd been my closest friend. I should have been able to trust him, but he had turned on me.

More hands brushed against me, my family sensing my sadness and reaching out once again with comfort. I felt all the pain, all the horror of the last couple days, and let the tears fall. My family held me tightly, gathering close and sharing my pain amongst them. I basked in their warmth, letting it bring the healing I needed.

Finally, I sat up, again with gratitude. I brushed the tears aside and stood. We needed to get back to the Ikane. We needed to know what they were up to, now more than ever. Now that we had seen the lengths they were willing to go. The atrocities they were willing to commit.

They agreed. Some stayed behind with the wounded. Jou told me I should stay, too, but I refused. I had to see this through.

Stubborn, he scolded me. I didn't disagree.

We moved through the forest, taking more care this time. We didn't have much worry of being seen, but after what the Ikane had done to me, we wanted to be extra sure that we weren't detected.

The Ikane camp was poised in waiting. The other Ikane, the ones that captured me, hadn't returned yet. My family and I sat in the trees, watching. The guardline had thickened, even more of them watching the trees. Apparently that had become the norm since I was taken. I found a comfortable perch and waited.

Hours passed before we sensed the Ikane returning. I turned toward them, but Jou held me back from moving any closer. We watched as a grumbling column of Ikane passed beneath us, many nursing wounds. I hadn't been able to see the fight, but it was clear it had gone as well as when the leaders tried to attack Jou, Gida, and me—their injuries looked more from their own magic than from any attacks by my family.

Jou picked up on my thoughts and grinned with pride, confirming my assessment. They had kept the Ikane too confused to fight straight, then used that confusion to escape.

Anastra and Bene glared up into the trees often as they walked, meaning they often stumbled on the occasional roots in the path. Any amusement I might have felt was dampened by the murder in the Ikane eyes below. Anastra had gone as crazy over this as Bene. And that made her dangerous.

Most of the Ikane, though, kept their faces down. They were ashamed to have been beaten so handily. Or maybe ashamed of what they'd resorted to. I hoped it was the latter. As much as they claimed we Kaine had given up our personhood, it seemed they were teetering on the edge of letting go of it themselves.

The rest of the Ikane watched the return with questions in their eyes. They had all known the plan, and they were curious to hear the results. "Well?" one of the guards asked as the column passed.

The stoop of the shoulders, the avoidance of eye contact, the sizzle of anger all should have been clear enough signs that things had not gone as planned. But the Ikane no longer intuited things, it seemed. Tulvans should know as much. Apparently the Ikane had changed more than just gaining magic powers. They no longer enjoyed running through the trees. They no longer picked up on subtle cues around them. Even their vigilance had decreased, scanning and listening less than before.

My family noticed it too. It was strange to see. I supposed it must have been just as jarring for them to see the changes in us. And I admitted to myself that their declining vigilance could end up helping if we ended up having to stand against them.

I watched as the Ikane leaders gathered again at the far end of the valley. We could sense their anger even from the distance. Their frustration. They were at a loss for what to do next. I only hoped they would come to their senses, but something inside told me this wasn't over.

Fires sparked to life throughout the camp below as evening settled in. All of the Ikane were unhappy, uncertain. They wanted to act but didn't know the best route. The stir of tension, anger, and eagerness to act blended disconcertingly.

Ranni slid down beside me. He nodded toward the Ikane. He feared, as I did, that it would come to a fight. But Anastra had been right when she pointed out the disparity in our numbers. If it did come to it, we might not be enough to stop them. We needed to come up with another approach.

I nodded in agreement, and he slipped back through the family. Several brothers and sisters joined him, spreading out as they went. Scouting for some advantage we could use.

A thought flicked across my mind, and I flagged down Hia before she left. She listened to my directions to the place where Dovannel had betrayed me. The hole in the ground might still be there. With any hope, something good would come of that situation.

Activity stirred in the Ikane camp, voices rising into shouts. Bene stomped through the camp, followed by more and more Ikane. All holding torches.

Anastra and others followed, shouting them back, but the commands were ignored.

My family buzzed, unnerved, poised to fight if called for. I gave a silent command, and they held back. We would see what the Ikane wanted and then decide how to respond.

Bene shoved her way past the guardline and stopped just before the trees, thrusting her torch forward like a sword. "All right, listen up, you freaks!" she shouted. "You want to hide in the trees? Then we're going to burn the forest down! What do you think of that, huh?"

I dropped from the tree and landed right in front of her. Jou landed on one side of me, Gida on the other, and many more filled in behind us.

She yelped, stumbling backwards. She regained her stance and glared furiously at me. "What now, Feral? You going to attack me?"

No, that's what you do, I told her. I looked past her to Anastra, who was working to push her way through the crowd. "Burn the forest?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"No," Anastra said, catching up to Bene and grabbing the shorter woman's arm. "We aren't going to do that."

"Do what you like," Bene retorted. "I'm acting for the good of all of us. For all of Kenara, for that matter." She jabbed the torch at me. "They have a lesson to learn."

I lightly brushed a finger on one of my larger bandages. "We have learned. About you."

Her scowl deepened. "You think you've got us figured out. You're wrong!"

We're not the kidnappers, Jou retorted. The torturers.

"That's enough, Bene," Anastra said, pulling at the other woman once more.

"We aren't going to be terrorized by a bunch of Feral freaks!" Bene's voice turned shrill. She raised her torch to throw it.

Roots shot up from the ground, wrapped around her wrists, and yanked her hands to her sides. The torch fell to the ground, specks of flame dancing and leaping to the dirt before flickering out.

Anastra kept her hands poised upward, fists clenched tight as she held Bene immobilized. "I said, That's. Enough. You will listen to me, like it or not."

Bene snarled. "They have to be stopped!"

"And burning the forest is the way to do it? Think straight, Bene! What do you think the Peristas would have to say about that?"

Bene's snarl faded.

Anastra's gaze flickered over us. Her eyes fell on my bandages, and she quickly looked away. At least she felt some shame for what she'd done. The shame, sadly, was quickly replaced with anger. "Leave," she snapped at us. "Just go."

Other Ikane were moving in, getting between the Ikane with torches and the forest. Their focus was just as much on preventing the angry crowd from igniting the forest as on keeping us at bay.

Jou hesitated, but I gave the command, and we all returned to the trees, moving further from the camp this time. The Ikane were growing desperate. Escalating. This was not good.

Ranni and the others returned in trickles, reporting what they'd found. One had come across a clutch of trongials a distance north. Ranni had tracked down the rest of the dufo family wandering the forest. Others told of hidden clearings and caves.

Hia was the last to return, delight in her eyes. The hole was gone—but the tunnel was still there. A tunnel she'd scouted right back to the Ikane camp. It was closed at that end, too, but she had figured out its position to be at the far edge of the valley, some distance from the guardline. We could slip right into the Ikane camp with little risk of detection.

I gathered the information, thanking each one. I hoped it wouldn't be needed, but it was a dim hope by now. Even if Anastra held back an attack, there was no doubt Bene would boil over again and try another desperate act. If we couldn't stop her, others could end up paying the price.

Voices rose again from the leader group. I slipped closer, climbing higher to maintain a respectful distance from those below, and watched carefully. An argument. Bene was getting angry again. Dovannel stood against her, shouting back. The wind carried whispers of words. Something about the Temple. Something about the Wall. Something about compromise.

Bene shouted that they were all fools, then turned and stormed off, a mass of Ikane following her to the edge of the camp. They settled down and stewed.

Satisfied they weren't coming at the forest again, I turned my attention back to the other leaders. The conversation was quiet again, but highly animated. They leaned close together, intense in their focus. Dovannel occasionally leaned back, glanced at the forest, then nodded, rejoining the conversation. There was hope in his expression. He hoped whatever they were planning would work—or perhaps he hoped it would be agreeable to us? The word 'compromise' came back to mind. They were planning to try offering something we could work together with.

A similar flare of hope shone in me. Perhaps Anastra's apparent hatred had abated after seeing how ugly it was reflected in Bene. Perhaps she was finally seeing reason. Perhaps they recognized how far wrong they had gotten.

I could only hope.

The sun had just set when the leaders—save Bene—made a slow path through the camp, coming back toward the forest. Eager to find out what they had decided, I shifted my way down through the tree.

Jou caught my arm before I passed him. He didn't trust their intentions. He understood my hope but feared this to be another trick. I saw in his eyes the fear that my eagerness for resolution would end with me being hurt again. Or worse.

I squeezed his hand, but obediently waited at his side.

The leaders came to a stop just inside the guardline this time. Most of them glared at the trees. Dovannel scanned, trying to get a glimpse of us.

Anastra squared her shoulders, staring straight up into the trees. "Listen up, Ferals. We have discussed the matter and have come to a compromise. Do you understand? We have no interest in further hostilities. We are setting out on a task that even you cannot object to. If you want, you can even join us—at a distance, preferably." She scanned the trees. "We are setting out tomorrow morning and going to Innsbrooke. Some of us will remain at the palace as guards. The royal family will be defended by those with the power to stop any threat that may arise."

A sick feeling ate away the hope. It was clear in their eyes. They wouldn't be offering their services. They would not be taking no for an answer, regardless of what the royal family wanted.

"As for the rest of us, we will cross the wall and bring an end to the Hranite threat." She squinted up, a faint smirk forming on her lips. "Even you can't disagree with that. The Hranites are evil, and we must end them before they can mount another attack on our people."

The sick feeling spread through my family. The Ikane were talking genocide.

"As I said, you can join us. You will not be permitted in Innsbrooke or the palace, but your aid with the cause against the Hranites will be accepted. I would even dare to say welcomed." Anastra took a step forward and jabbed a finger in the air. "But hear this clearly. If you try to stop us, we will be forced to end you. No matter what tricks you pull, you are far too outnumbered to win against us. Don't try it. We won't hesitate like we have in the past."

Hesitate? Jou snorted. More like got beaten.

I elbowed him.

Anastra scanned the treeline. "I know you're there, and I know you're listening. I don't know if you can still understand common speech anymore, but I hope it to be the case. Kibi seemed to understand well enough, anyway. Perhaps she can explain it to the rest of you."

Displeasure rippled through my family, some at the insult and some at the crass reminder of my captivity. I gestured them to stillness once more.

"I'll say it once more. We are going to help Innsbrooke. We are going to end the Hranite threat. You can help us against the Hranites, or you can stay out of our way. Those are the only two options available to you." Anger slipped past her control. "And don't think that just because you managed to escape us before means you're better fighters than we are. We know what to watch for now, so don't try it. We will not hesitate to wipe you out, every last one of you."

With that, she spun on her heel and marched back through the camp, the other leaders filing behind her. Dovannel cast another look at the trees, hope in his eyes. He actually thought it was a good offer.

The sick feeling redoubled. I exhaled.

My family clustered tightly together. We couldn't allow this. No matter what the Hranites had done, genocide wasn't the answer. And going after the palace—the Ikane were heading toward either drawing us into a new war against the Hranites or a civil war. Likely both.

Ideas slipped through us, ways to fight, ways to sabotage. I sat on a broad branch, everything whirring through my mind. We couldn't let it happen, but Anastra was right. We'd faced decreased numbers when we fought the leaders. And when I'd been rescued, we hadn't been trying to defeat them, just distract them—and we'd had the element of surprise on our side. There would be no surprise here; the Ikane were keeping an intense watch on the treeline. Even if we went through the tunnel Hia had discovered, it wouldn't be long before the whole camp was rallied against us.

I thought of Dovannel and felt even more sick. Could we say we were any better than them if we planned to attack them the way they intended to attack the Hranites?

Jou put a hand on my shoulder. He knew my jumbled thoughts, and he promised that every member of the family would follow me, no matter what I chose. Agreement rippled through the others.

I drew in a breath and slowly let it out. I put a hand on his, then stood. I would go to the Temple. My family should rest. Eat. Drink. Think. Seek. They agreed readily, and a few remained to monitor the Ikane while the rest slid through the trees back toward our clearing by the river.

I reached the main road and went up to the Temple. I didn't know how we were going to deal with this. I didn't know what I would say to the Peristas. I just didn't know.

No one attended the washbasins at the archway at this time of night, but there was a towel sitting ready for any travelers who came so late. Perista Liyin stood at the arch, holding a lantern. She smiled and pressed her hands together as I washed my hands. "Kibi! It's lovely to see you again." She sobered at the look on my face. "What's wrong?"

Everything, I told her. "Perista Wenn. Please."

"He should still be in the cathedral. Go on in." She put a hand on my shoulder. "I will pray for you."

I dipped my head in thanks and hastened to the cathedral. The cavernous space was almost empty. Only a few candles still flickered around the room. Several seekers were asleep on cushions, but a couple still sat in meditation. I saw Wenn near the end of the cathedral and joined him.

He pressed his hands. "Kibi, welcome. What troubles you?"

My thoughts tumbled together, and words failed. I lowered my head.

He waited patiently, kindness in his eyes.

I finally found words that would come, though they came slowly. "Is it wrong to attack... to prevent?"

He studied me, then led me to one of the benches. He sat and patted the spot beside him. "Tell me, why did Maker create the Tulvans?"

I sat. "To protect."

"And you failed, but then you were made new." He met my eyes. "And what did Maker remake you to do?"

Understanding slipped through me. "To protect."

He nodded, smiling. "Do as Maker formed you to do."

"We are outnumbered."

"Significantly," a voice came from behind us. Luda. She perched on the next bench over. "What's happening?"

I hesitated, but thankfully it came out smoothly enough. "They will make the palace accept them as guards." I swallowed. "And they will cross the Wall."

Luda and Wenn exchanged glances. He nodded. "Luda, take your dragon and go to Innsbrooke right away. Warn them of what's coming so they can prepare."

She pressed her hands together and vanished.

He turned back to me. "What will you do?"

That's the question, I told him. "Anything we can."

He took my hands. "We will be in prayer."

I thanked him.

He stood and dipped his thumb in the stream, then pressed it to my forehead. "Maker's blessing be with you."

The air felt cold on my forehead where the water still rested. I reached up and touched it, the cold spot just beneath my triangular mark. An idea flickered into being, and I hastily pressed my hands together and left.

Perhaps we had a chance after all.

Chapter 10

I ran to the trees to meet with my family at the Ikane camp, Ranni among them. Nothing further had happened; the Ikane had settled in for the night, though many sat awake, staring at the trees and whispering about whether an attack would come. I asked them if they would fight at my side. Ranni instantly promised his strength to my disposal, and the others followed suit. Good, I told them. Stay put. I'll return before long.

I raced the breeze back to the clearing at the river, taking a darting route to gather any siblings who had spread out to gather food or hunt or any such thing. My family turned to me as I entered the clearing. I walked straight to the fire at the center of the clearing and rubbed my thumb against the burnt edge of a log.

Jou stood up in surprise, asking me what I was doing. I walked to him and carefully drew on his face with the black char on my thumb. Any objection he had died as he realized the shapes I was forming.

Double overlapping triangles under each eye.

Silence held us as my family absorbed my idea. In moments, they were gathering more soot and drawing on each other, logistics flying between us. The triangles. The resting Ikane. The tunnel into their camp. Even the clutch of trongials and the dufo family pack.

Jou reached to draw on me, but I shook my head. I had to be the spokesperson once more. He objected, but I didn't let him get far. Ranni and others would be at my side. And our distraction would help the rest of our family. Besides, I was too recognizable to trick anyone.

He squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back, willing him the best. He returned the wishes, and we parted, him to lead the family and me to rejoin those at the Ikane camp. I paused along the way, catching Gida's attention. We sat together for a few minutes, me coaching her through words that now felt foreign. She focused hard and practiced them carefully. Hopefully it would not come to it, but she was ready to call out to the Ikane should the need arise.

I returned to my family in the trees beside the Ikane camp and filled them in on the plan. Excitement rippled through them. Our part was dangerous, but with any hope, it would be enough.

First we had to wait.

As the night wore on, more and more of the Ikane settled down to sleep. Tomorrow would be a big day, and they needed their rest. If only they knew how true that was. The guards kept their focus on the treeline. People moving in the camp itself would go unnoticed. Or so I hoped.

Hours passed before I saw the first signs of movement deep in the camp, to the south end of the valley. My family, silently breaking through the dirt-sealed tunnel. They moved in perfect silence, staying low, timing their movements to the breathing and whispers of night around them to avoid detection. Now for the tricky part.

We in the trees watched anxiously, holding our breaths as our family below each stopped beside a sleeping Ikane, choosing the heaviest sleepers with the fewest ear twitches. They matched their breathing with the Ikane. They took on the Ikane's very sense of being. Then slowly, gently, brushed soot on the Ikane's foreheads. A small triangle.

None of the Ikane woke. I exhaled. My family slowly eased back. Some only moved a short distance while others crept deeper into the camp.

A guard grunted and glanced over his shoulder. I froze, even though I wasn't one that might be spotted. My family below went still, each one low enough to look like just another lumpy mass of person asleep in the camp.

Ranni and I met eyes. I let out a low trill, almost like a birdsong but not quite. A sister from further below made a second call.

The guards jumped to alarm, their attention turned outward once more. My family in the camp was safe. Some of the Ikane nearest the guardline roused, climbing to their feet and craning their necks toward the trees.

"What's going on?" one hissed.

A guard shook her head. "Not sure."

Ranni made one more call, barely loud enough to be heard. We had to keep their attention without causing enough alarm that they would wake the camp.

"Is it... is it birds?" another from behind the line whispered.

"I doubt it," a different guard grunted. "It's them. They're doing some sort of signal."

"Should we get Anastra?" asked one.

"Should we sound the alarm?" chimed in another.

We ceased our sounds, waiting.

The guards studied the treeline for a while longer, then one waved that all was clear. "Keep a close watch on the trees. You, go tell Anastra they're in the trees and up to something, but there's no point in rousing the camp until we know there's a threat." He eyed the trees. "They'd be stupid to attack, and they won't get far if they do."

One of the Ikane jogged back through the camp toward the leader gathering space while the rest settled back down. Their eyes stayed firm on the trees. Just as it needed to be.

Relieved, I turned my attention back to the depths of the camp. My family resumed their prowl of the camp, finding new targets. Carefully falling into synchronization with said targets. Painting new triangles.

One of the painted Ikane snorted, face twitching. The Kaine at her side dropped flat, turning her face away and letting her chest rise and fall in rhythmic sleep patterns.

The Ikane half sat up, looked around with bleary eyes, then settled back down. She was back to sleep in moments.

I rattled the branch I sat on, sending a clear signal. Nearly four of the six thousand Ikane were now painted. It was enough.

My family responded immediately, shifting away from the ones they'd painted, finding easy resting places, and settling down as if they'd been sleeping amongst the Ikane this whole time.

And again, we waited.

The guards were growing increasingly nervous, refreshing their torches, raising the flames high and peering into the forest. They were starting to wonder if they should rouse the camp, but they didn't want to appear foolish. Of course we were in the trees. We were always in the trees. And what could they report, that we had made bird sounds and then did nothing? The more time passed, the more foolish they would look.

I watched the sky, sensing the world shifting through the phases. Still too dark yet. It needed to be light enough to see the triangular marks on everyone's faces, but only just. The dimmer, the better—the more confusion.

We waited.

My family with me in the trees braced for action as the first hint of indigo peeked into the blackness. We watched as the horizon gently cycled through colors, casting the valley below into charcoal, then dark gray. As the dark gray faded a touch lighter, I stood with a nod.

We dropped through the trees and landed on the forest ground below.

The guardline were on their feet in an instant, shouting the alarm. The alarm spread through the camp, the Ikane leaping to their own feet, braced and ready to fight. All their attention was on the guardline and the forest. There were no signs they realized my family stood amongst them. I hid a smile.

Instead, I calmly strode forward, stopping just outside the forest, facing the guardline. The few dozen siblings from the trees formed a broad, shifting line behind me, staying just inside the treeline and implying numbers far greater than we had.

The guards raised their hands, ready to attack at the slightest provocation. But we didn't provide any. We simply waited.

It didn't take long for the leaders to arrive. They stayed behind the guardline as before. Anastra eyed us closely, then tapped on a couple guards' shoulders. They parted, just slightly, so she had a clear view of me.

"Why have you come?" she demanded.

To stop you, I told her.

"Well? Have you come to join us?"

_Maker, give me wisdom_ , I prayed. "No."

Her eyes narrowed. "Then you've come to fight us."

"Unnecessary." I looked over them, glancing briefly at Bene and Dovannel, then settled back on her. "A warning. We will not allow it."

"You're siding with the Hranites?" She glared, incredulity in her tone. "Really? I thought better of you, even if you have gone Feral. Can you no longer tell good from evil?"

"We side against murder. Genocide."

A rumble of anger shot through the Ikane camp.

"You dare accuse us of such things," Anastra hissed. "It is not genocide, it is defense! It is justice!"

"Vengeance."

"Yes, vengeance," she retorted. "And do they not deserve it?"

"Only some."

She spat on the ground at my feet. "Do you think they made any distinction between fighter and innocent when they invaded us?"

I met her eyes, calm and level. "Genocide."

Fury washed through her, clear in her eyes, her snarl, her stance. She fought to bring it back under control. "Fine," she snapped, her whole body tense. "Think as you like. The fact remains that we're going to go bring them to justice and give them what they deserve. If you try to stop us, then we'll fight. And you will not win."

I held myself firm, steady, unshaken. "We will not allow this." I searched her eyes. "Please, listen. Understand."

"I understand only one thing," she spat. "We were all given a second chance. You're the ones who decided to still be traitors. You betray who you once were. You betray our land. And we will end your treachery _now_."

The Ikane responded at once, thrusting their hands outward, lashing out with their magic.

We dodged the first attacks, and I listened intensely, hoping—

Gida's voice pierced the entire camp. "They're here! They're disguised as us! Look ou—" Her voice ended in a scream. I couldn't see her, but I knew what came next: she collapsed to the ground with blood on her neck—or rather, what appeared to be blood.

Only then did the Ikane look at each other and see the thousands amongst them with triangles on their foreheads. Screams ripped through the camp as they lashed out in a frenzy.

Anastra stared back into the depths of her camp, shock immobilizing her body. She spun and flung a hand at me. "You monsters!" she snarled, her face twisting ugly.

I felt the roots coming at me and jumped around them. A branch swung for my head as the ground opened beneath me, but Ranni was already there, catching my arm and swinging me away from the threat. The rest of my family surged in, joining the fray.

I sensed the fight around us even as I dodged and twisted through my own dance, drawing their attacks into each other as before. Hardly any of my family members fought. Some danced as I did, snatching in a blow and then disappearing into the chaos, leading magic attacks into the other Ikane. Others would strike and then spin, hands raised as if performing magic. So much magic went on that it was impossible to tell the origin point, and they blended in with ease. The Ikane would assume the attack came from another and counterattack—and the other would assume the counterattack to come from a Kaine and respond accordingly.

All as planned.

My feet sank on my next landing, and I tore free before Bene could solidify the ground around me. She snarled in fury and sent rocks pummeling my direction. I dodged some, then kicked a few back at her. As her attention was forced onto the projectiles, I slipped around the guards, drawing their focus and leading their attacks after Lontre. He snarled and spun to track me around him, only to get struck from behind by his own people.

The fight was brutal but swift. The Ikane numbers were already thinning. My family poised ready to disperse the moment I gave the signal. We were in full agreement; there was no call to destroy the Ikane, only to reduce their numbers until they were no longer a credible threat. We had no interest in genocide, either.

I jumped onto a branch to check the battle. The branch twisted and bounced under my feet, trying to knock me off. I followed each movement, refusing to be unseated. Two other branches swung at once, one aimed for my head and the other for my midsection. I rolled over the lower of the two and dropped back to the ground; I had seen what I needed. We only needed to fight a bit longer.

Hooting and thundering sounds rolled through the forest. I smiled and dodged another rock. My family quickly parted as the clutch of trongials came charging in, chasing down one of my siblings. The horn-like cries turned to delight as their single target turned into thousands. My sibling dove out of their path, and the trongials hit like rocks on a wave, smashing their way into the fight, snatching and chomping on anyone they could reach. My family had an easy enough time avoiding them. The Ikane, not as much.

Anastra shrieked with rage and spotted me, finding a clear target to channel her fury. She thrust her hands out, and roots shot up through the ground, chasing my every move, snatching at my ankles as I dashed and wove my way through the Ikane. She focused well, not letting her attacks strike anyone else—though the broken ground she left behind provided quite the trip hazard for her own kind, something my family exploited well.

A snag of root caught my foot, and I rolled forward to break free. More roots shot up around me, lashing together, fighting to pin me. I swiped my claws time and again, slashing through the tendrils that tried to hold me captive.

A rock slammed into my side, knocking the air from my lungs. Bene laughed triumphantly as roots caught hold over my right arm, pulling me to the ground hard. They'd finally figured out how to work together. Good for them. Not so good for us.

I reached to slash my arm free, but there were more roots, too many of them to fight off. They closed over me like lattice, twisting and tightening painfully. Another rock, a far bigger one, flipped high above me and came smashing down.

Ranni charged and jumped, kicking the rock with precise aim. It kept its momentum but followed its new trajectory—straight into Bene's chest. She fell hard under its weight.

Anastra shrieked with fury and turned her attention to Ranni. I used the distraction to claw at the roots holding me immobilized. I had to check the battle again. We had to be close to time to retreat.

The ground disappeared from beneath me, and the dirt suddenly carried me like a wave, shooting me through suffocating darkness. It brought my head to surface, and I coughed, sucking in air. Trees swayed above, but the sounds of battle had become distant. My body raised at a strange angle, my shoulders and arms staying buried as my chest broke ground, then my abdomen, then my thighs. The rest of my legs stayed beneath the surface, the dirt squeezing my legs and arms painfully tight.

Bene stalked toward me, snarling. "You think you've won, Feral? You think you're clever?"

Clever enough, I told her.

"You're going to pay for every single one of my kind lost," she hissed. "Every. Single. One." She raised her fingers like she was pinching a root, then plucked upward.

I felt pressure on my back that formed into a sharp point, driving slowly up into my flesh. I gasped as it pierced my skin, cutting through muscle. Pain rippled out across my body, tearing its way through every nerve.

"Oh, so you do still feel pain," she gloated. "We were starting to wonder, after our last playtime with you."

I tried to pull my arms free, but the ground tightened even harder, crushing me. I clenched my teeth. It didn't matter what happened to me. I hadn't gotten another look at the battle, but what little I had seen told me enough. I had no doubts we'd either already succeeded or would succeed shortly.

I saw it in Bene's eyes, too. She knew they'd been beaten. And she was going to make my punishment last as long as possible for it.

She stilled her hand, and the spike came to a stop, buried in my back. Then she lifted her other hand and, with a smirk, plucked upward again. A second pressure on the other side of my back. Another spike piercing into me.

Another gasp tore free. I fought to control my breathing.

She stalked a step closer. "How's it feel, freak?"

Closer. I saw the triumph, the pride in her eyes. I was using the wrong strategy.

I gasped louder as the spike worked its way upward, staying shallow enough not to kill but still painfully tearing its way into my body. I cringed and shook.

"You like that?" she taunted. She raised her other hand again, and a third spike materialized, wider this time, tearing into my skin.

I cried out this time, and I let tears come.

"That's right!" She stalked another step closer. "I want you to feel every last bit of it, Feral."

I kept my focus on the performance. If I let myself get too wrapped in it, the pain would tear me to pieces, and I'd be helpless to act. I had to hold on just right, just enough...

A fourth spike broke my skin. I cried out louder this time, gasping for air. Shaking. I let my mouth fall open, focusing my tension from clenched teeth into tightening fists. The ground shifted under my hands, just slightly. The more she thought me beaten, the less she focused on keeping the ground around my arms solid.

I was starting to shake for real. I tightened my fists even more. I had to hold on.

She raised both hands, and all four spikes crept upward.

I choked. "No," I gasped. "N-no!"

"Yes!" She raised them again, just a fraction but still enough to refresh the fires of pain wracking my body.

I choked again and let my eyelids flutter, my eyes shifting upward. I made my body twitch and forced my shaking to slow.

"Oh, no, you don't," Bene snarled. She kicked me in my side, and it took all my effort to remain still.

She crouched and slapped me across the face, claws leaving fresh wounds through the bandages from the last time she'd done so. "You don't get to pass out yet! Not until I'm through with you!" She grabbed my jaw tight in her hand. "Do you hear me, freak?"

My eyes snapped open. I hear you, I told her. I tore my arms clear of the dirt and wrapped them tight around her.

She screamed and reeled backwards, pulling me the rest of the way free. Rocks shot up around us and pelted at random; she was too startled and frantic to aim properly. One hit me square in the back, right on one of the bleeding wounds, and I almost lost my grip. Almost.

"Get off me!" she screamed. "Get off!"

My right hand found the base of her skull. Images of the dufo that stalked the seekers on the main road flashed through my mind. Necessary. I closed my eyes and swished my claws in a single, decisive motion.

She choked and staggered, then crumpled limply to the ground.

I landed on my knees beside her, fresh pains flaring through my body. A couple of the rock spikes were still embedded in my back. Red edged my vision. I focused on sucking in breaths through the agony.

It was over. I looked down at Bene's still face, the anger frozen on it. I touched her temple. Like the dufo. Sad, but necessary.

I sensed movement, too obvious to be one of my family. I sucked in a breath. I wasn't sure I had anything left in me to fight. Clenching my teeth, I looked up.

Dovannel stopped short, looking from me to Bene's body. I wasn't sure if he would help me or attack me. His eyes said he wasn't sure, either.

Finally, he strode forward. "Darkest moon, Kibi." He cut a sleeve free and motioned me to lie down. "Hold still. You're going to bleed to death."

I sensed nothing false. Like Bene, he knew his kind had been beaten. Unlike Bene, he had no interest in exacting vengeance upon me. I closed my eyes and eased down to the ground, my back exposed to the grating air.

Dovannel cut the sleeve in strips and pressed them against the gaping wounds, cringing himself as I shuddered with each one. "I'm sorry," he muttered. I knew he was talking about more than just the pain I felt at his ministrations. "I can't pull the rocks out," he added. "It'll just make you bleed more."

"Thank you."

He shook his head. "Why did you have to do it, Kibi? Why couldn't you have just chosen strength? We could've been great together." He blew out a breath and finished with the last wound. "Or even if you did choose understanding, then why did you have to... We could have fought together, side by side. We could've done so many great things together!"

I turned my neck as much as I could to meet his eyes. "No," I said softly, "we couldn't have."

He met my eyes for a moment longer. His finger touched mine, then drew back. He stood. "Goodbye, Kibi." He turned and ran through the forest.

I shook my head, stopping Hia, who'd just arrived and was about to chase down Dovannel. There was no reason. He was no threat.

Instead, she helped me up, bearing my weight as we hurried together back to the battle. I started into the trees, but my back spasmed with fresh agony. Hia eased me onto her back without a moment's hesitation, scaling the tree for me. As we neared the valley, she slowed to a stop, bringing us just within view.

I looked over the grisly scene below. Most of the Ikane had fallen. Of the fraction remaining, many had fled. All that was left was a paltry few who stubbornly did their best to attack and fight. My family shifted easily around them, never lashing out, never letting the attacks land, but leaving a clear opening for the Ikane to flee once they chose.

Lontre spotted me in the tree and snarled in fury, sending a massive rock shooting at us. Hia easily dropped down a few branches, and the rock tumbled through the trees above us before ricocheting down to the ground below.

We slipped closer again in time to see Gida slide up behind Lontre and strike him, knocking him flat. Another Ikane lashed out at her, but a brother intercepted it, sending the Ikane tumbling aside. My family moved back again, continuing to dodge any attacks while leaving the Ikane plenty of space to retreat.

Hia sensed my desire and helped me down to the ground. We approached the remaining cluster of Ikane.

"Leave," I said. "We will not follow."

"You haven't won!" a woman shouted. But it was plain we had.

Lontre struggled back to his feet and glared. "You haven't seen the last of us!"

Yes, I told him. We have.

The Ikane brought their attacks to an end and reluctantly followed the path of retreat, scowling back at us as they went. They shot off a few more magic attacks along the way, all easily avoided. Parting shots to try to save face.

I held firm as they disappeared into the trees, but then the pain was too much. I sagged against Hia. She eased me to the ground, clutching my arm. Other siblings moved in, wrapping me in their warmth. Clusters of my family gathered around others of our fallen, holding us close and drawing us back to wholeness.

The remaining spikes fell from my back. As my strength returned, I eased myself up, exuding gratitude and sending my family along to the next person in need. We found injured Ikane and tried to draw them back, but we couldn't find them the way we found each other. We cleaned and bandaged their wounds as best as we could, though many of them tried to swipe at us for our attempts to help.

I found Ranni, roots trapping him to the ground, blood covering his battered face, forever still. Sorrow weighed heavily on me as I cut through the roots and closed his eyes. A tear escaped my own as I knew he'd sacrificed himself for me. I touched his temple. Sad. Necessary.

But so, so sad.

We mourned the loss, theirs as much as our own. If only the Ikane had given up sooner. If only our family members had been able to move faster and dodge the attacks that ended their lives. If only the Ikane had seen reason.

I closed my eyes. A thrum resonated inside my chest, a low note, deep with sorrow. My family joined with me, the note ringing through the valley, rising up the walls and floating to the heavens. We had won, but there was no victory here.

Chapter 11

We nearly finished burying the dead when Perista Wenn arrived. He looked over the valley somberly. As I approached, he turned to me and pressed his hands together. I responded in turn.

"It is over, then?" he asked.

I dipped my head.

He put a hand on my shoulder. "I know this has been a great loss." I felt some comfort at knowing he understood that our sorrow was for more than our own losses. He knew our regrets that such action had even been necessary.

Other Peristas followed behind him and slowly spread out throughout the valley, speaking words over the deceased, offering gestures of comfort to those who remained. The injured Ikane reluctantly shuffled off to the Temple. A few Peristas went with them, promising to send word to Innsbrooke. The threat was over. It was finished.

"Come," Wenn invited as he and his fellow Peristas finished their work. "You would be welcome at the Temple—though perhaps not all at once," he chuckled. "I'm afraid you wouldn't all fit."

I pressed my hands together. We might be welcome, but we would not be going.

"Then follow the message to Innsbrooke. You will be greeted as heroes."

I smiled and pressed my hands together again. I didn't doubt his words, but I also knew how we appeared to people outside our family. Creepy, as the others had been so fond of saying. We did not belong.

My family gathered behind me, and I reached out to Perista Wenn, pressing my thumb against his forehead.

He paused, then slowly dipped his head. "I understand."

He didn't, not completely. But it was close enough.

I bowed, my family with me, and then we slipped past the Peristas into the trees. Family groups split off, racing the wind toward the plains to the west, or the mountains to the north and south.

I sent warmth with Jou as he led a family group to the northwest, then split off with my own to the southwest. We would find places to settle, scattered across the country, keeping our distance from the people of Kenara but remaining just close enough to keep a watch.

We would not take over, nor would we insinuate control. We were remade to be protectors. And that's what we would do.

THE END

**Pronunciation Guide and Glossary**

**Anastra** (uh-NAS-truh)

**Bene** (BEH-nay)

**Carilla** (kuh-REE-yuh)

**Dovannel** (DOH-vuh-nehl)

**Gida** (GEE-duh)

**Hia** (HI-uh)

**Ikane** (EE-kuh-nay)

**Jomii** (JOH-me)

**Jou** (JOW)

**Kaine** (kah-EE-nay)

**Kibi** (KEE-bee)

**Kodrin** (KOH-drihn)

**Livvya** (LIH-vya)

**Liyin** (LIE-yihn)

**Lontre** (lohn-TRAY)

**Luda** (LOO-duh)

**Ranni** (RAHN-nee)

**Regivithe** (REH-jih-viythe)

**Tash** (TAWSH)

**Wenn** (WEN)

**Braybun** (BRAY-buhn): A medium-sized nocturnal rodent with long front legs.

**Depps** (DEHPS): A term of displeasure.

**Dufo** (doo-FOH): A dangerous wild animal with spheroid bodies, long legs, and lengthy, serpentine necks. They exist in family packs, mostly living alone but always within hearing range of at least two other members of the pack. They attack any perceived threat with a sharp beak, talons at the end of their legs, and a foot spike coming from the back of the foot.

**Elf** (EHLF): One of the four races of Kenara, a short people group with large, single color eyes, small noses, and ears featuring a pointed tip.

**Emsha** (EHM-shuh): The second-largest city in Kenara, a major trade center surrounded by towering walls, founded and predominantly peopled by Elves.

**Hranite** (RAHN-ai't): The predominant race inhabiting Ebrun, a tall people group with vertical eyes, round heads with narrow jaws, no hair, and gray-toned skin.

**Innsbrooke** (IHNS-br'k): The capital city of Kenara, also the largest city of the land. It is nearly centered beside the wall separating Kenara from Ebrun and has a large lake on the wall side, with two rivers at the north and south end of the city.

**Kadrian** (KAY-dree-'n): One of the four races of Kenara, a tall people group with high, almost pyramid-shaped pointed ears, flat noses, and wide eyes featuring a vertical slit of a pupil.

**Kenara** (kehn-AHR-uh): The eastern country on Endonsha's landmass.

**Nevvit** (NEHV-'t): A root vegetable with a distinctive red tint used both for food and for dyes.

**Nim** (NIHM): One of the four races of Kenara, a people group with particularly lanky limbs, sloping foreheads, and protruding but curveless noses.

**Perista** (puh-REE-stuh): A servant and spiritual leader at the Temple of Peace in the eastern mountains of Kenara.

**Rekin** (REHK-'n): Very large rodents with lithe bodies, short padded feet, and protruding fangs. They are plentiful on Endonsha and valued for both fur and meat.

**Tree-snit** (TREE-sniht): Small rodents with large eyes, furry round bodies, and skinny tails, most commonly found clinging to tree bark of a close color to their fur to hide from predators.

**Trongial** (TROHN-jee'l): A vaguely equine mammal with a long, narrow mouth filled with sharp teeth. They are prized as speedy mounts, but must be kept under careful control due to their feral instincts.

**Tulvan** (TUHL-v'n): One of the four races of Kenara, a people group with small, flat noses, high cheekbones, wide-set feline eyes, and high, pyramid-shaped ears. They have abnormally strong reflexes and agility, as well as retractable claws. They are known for being deeply religious and believe the Maker gave them power so they can serve in defense of others.

**Wastik** (WAH-stihk): A general Kenaran term for insects or pests which are to be exterminated.

**About the Author**

I enjoy life with my life-mate and little sprout in the Pacific Northwest. I obtained a degree in Counseling Psychology from Northwest University in Kirkland, WA, which I use to create fully dimensional characters with unique personalities and quirks. In fiction, I'm a huge fan of all things speculative: anything where the rules of reality need not apply. My books include traditional fantasy, space fantasy, post-apocalyptic, and more. When not writing, I can usually be found reading, watching movies, or wasting entirely too much time on the internet.

Connect with me at

cybishop.com

Other books in The Endonshan Chronicles:

Dragonbond

Sanaraheim

Power

Magic

Invasion

**The "Pay What You Want"** **Quarantine Deal**

It's hard to know where to begin. Most of us have never faced anything like this, not on this scale, and it can be an odd mixture of scary, frustrating, uncertain, and boring as we all do our best to stay secluded and help defeat COVID-19.

In light of this (and the increased need for entertainment options it has presented), I am offering a new payment structure for my books during this time. All of my ebooks are now available at no up-front charge. That's right; you can now download any of my ebooks completely free.

After you have read the book, you then get to decide for yourself what that ebook was worth. Was the entertainment you experienced worth a dollar? Three? Five? More? Whatever you decide is what you get to pay.

For your convenience, there are two options for how to make this payment: through my website, cybishop.com, or through paypal.me/cybishop.

So stay home, stay hydrated, wash your hands, and enjoy some time reading!

