“We’re going to see your mother today,” she said.

Valii gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. “Really?”

Grandmama nodded. “Just as soon as you have finished your morning meal, we will go over.”

Ciraanc was finished in a hurry. After getting dressed, Grandmama fixed up Valii, Neyhira, and Kaqurei’s hair in ribbons. Thairyn’s was a bit short, but she asked the Gem Matron to brush it for her anyway. Then, fluttery with excitement, they left the teiami and crossed The Way to the old Cira-Anu.

“Now, girls, remember your Mama isn’t well yet; you need to use soft voices, and she cannot hold you yet,” Grandmama said.

“Yes Grandmama!”

Thairyn and Neyhira got up to the teiami first. It was wonderful, and yet melancholy to breathe in the oh-so-familiar scents of their mother’s tapestry. They hurried inside just as soon as Kaqurei and Valii made it up. The main room was quiet and still, everything just the way they had left it two days before. But of course, familiar décor was the last thing on their minds as they hurried up the passage way to their mother’s bedroom.

Thairyn pulled back the tapestry and eagerly peered into her parents’ room. There was Papa, sitting cross legged on the floor near Mama’s bedside, holding her hand. He looked up and saw Thairyn; he seemed tired, but he smiled and beckoned her and the others to come in.

Shyly, the four sisters walked into the room. Thairyn looked at her mother’s bed with large, anxious eyes. Mama looked like she was asleep. She looked to her father, questioning, and again she found that reassuring smile upon his face.

“Mama?” Valii asked quietly.

Then their mother’s beautiful form stirred; she turned her head and looked at them and smiled. “Hello, my babies,” she whispered.

Hesitation vanished. The four girls came to their mother’s bedside near their father. A warm feeling of precious love and longing enveloped them as they gazed upon her. Her hair was washed and her face was clean, but her scales were faded and her eyelids were dark. She smiled again. “Come to me, my little ones. How are you?” She reached out to them and took their little hands in hers, giving each a squeeze.

“We’ve been fine,” Neyhira said.

“Aye?” Mama asked.

“Uh-huh,” Valii said. “We went to a mashic place, and Faeralie told me stories, and she gave me my own—er my own surprise, and I’ll show you when you’re all better.”

Mama closed her eyes and smiled. “I can’t wait,” she whispered. She opened her eyes again. “I can’t wait to hold and hug and prinnage you. I’ve missed you all so much.”

Neyhira longed to hug her and climb into her lap so badly it made her ache. “We’ve missed you too!”

Mama’s eyes turned to Thairyn, who stood quietly behind the others. “What is the matter, Alalu?”

Thairyn felt a terrible knot in her throat. When Mama spoke, her eyes filled up with tears. “I’m sorry, Mama,” she whimpered. “It was all my fault—I... I picked the unripe gemfruit, even after you told me not to!” she burst out, “I just wanted to get you one of the biggest and the best ones, but I messed it all up, and now you’re sick and it’s all my fault!” She burst into sobs.

Papa reached out to her and took her into his arms. He wrapped his wings around her and prinnaged her forehead. “It’s not your fault, Thairyn.”

“No, let them stay,” she whispered. She looked at the girls. “I’ve never lied to you. I never will. I may not tell you all things, but I will say that the night you heard me scream, I had received some very bad news.”

“What happened?” Thairyn asked.

Mama smiled, but she still looked sad. “I’m not going to tell you what it was about, but I don’t want you to worry. It’s all right. We’re safe.”

“Who gave you the bad news?” Kaqurei demanded, “Why’d they tell you while you were sick?”

Mama was shaking her head. “He didn’t know I was sick, Kaquee,” she said gently. “The news was from my brother. He lives very far away. I haven’t heard from him for a very long time.”

“Did he send a messenger?” Neyhira asked.

“No,” Mama said.

The girls furrowed their brows and looked confused.

“Remember Spirit Speak?” Papa asked.

“Yes,” Mama said. “Something like Spirit Speak.”

“Oh,” Thairyn said grimly, looking horrified—a bad news sort of Spirit Speak, when she was sick?

Valii was only further confused, but she decided not to ask. It looked like this subject was making Mama unhappy. She wanted Mama to be happy so she could get well. So, obligingly, the little four-year-old offered to change the subject. “We met Prince Gideon, Mama, we met him outside the forest and he became my own friend!” she said.

Mama looked at her and smiled for the innocent joy Valii expressed, but there was a question in her eyes also. “Prince Gideon?”

“Uh-huh,” Valii said. “The Münshir Prince.”

Mama’s eyes brightened. “Ooohh, I see,” she said. “The Prince of New Münshir? What was he like?”

“He was really nice,” Neyhira said. She threw Thairyn, sitting on Papa’s lap, a quick look, pleading again that she not mention the mobo soup.

“He and his friend Nya told us stories about little magicael creatures called Gwiggles,” Thairyn said tactfully, to ward Valii off the thought as well. “It was funny.” Thairyn almost told them she was going to see him again soon, but she decided not to. She did not want to be told no or only if someone comes with you. Prince Gideon was a special friend, just for her and her sisters. And if they were specifically told no, Valii would never come to see him again.

“After Thairyn picked that gemfruit, they got chased out of the forest and met Prince Gideon in the hills near Glassmere,” Kaqurei said.

Mama winced. “I’m just glad you didn’t get hurt,” she said. “That was so dangerous!” she added gravely, giving them a look that made them feel two inches tall. “Do not ever pick an unripe fruit again.”

“Yes Mama,” was the sheepish reply from the three.

“You might want to look in on the Blue Grove too, Karaa,” Grandmama said. “Even having an immature fruit picked shouldn’t have set them off as badly as that did—I saw the damage, it was a miracle the girls made it out. Maybe they’re sick with the same thing as the Tree Kin on the Eastern Side.”

Papa nodded, but he was not looking at Grandmama. He was rubbing Mama’s hand, focusing on her. Thairyn smiled slightly. She loved that look he got in his eyes when he thought about or touched Mama.

“Well, girls, we had better go now and let your Mama rest,” Grandmama said.

An intense longing filled all of them, and their eyes were drawn to their Mama, who was already looking at them. Her eyes, Valii thought, looking at her, That feeling is coming from her eyes. “I love you Mama,” she said softly.

“And I love you,” Mama said sincerely. “So, so much. All of you... my precious ones.”

“We love you too Mama,” the girls said softly.

“Get better soon!” Valii said, and she meant it.

Mama smiled and breathed a soft laugh. “I will, Alalu. Watch your sisters for me.”

“I will, Mama, I promise.”

“Bye-bye, Papa,” Thairyn said. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a squeeze. He hugged her tight and prinnaged her muzzle. Thairyn hopped down from his lap. Neyhira, Valii, and Kaqurei each hugged him and prinnaged him. “I love you,” he said to them in turn with each prinnaging.

But to withdraw was painful—none of them wanted to leave. No one wanted to say goodbye, even if for just a little while. Two days already had felt like forever apart. Valii’s eyes filled with tears. She blinked them back and sniffled, “I’ll biss you, baba.”

“I already miss you,” Mama whispered. “But we’ll be together again soon. Serethia.”

“Serethia, Ma’a,” Kaqurei said.

Thairyn, Neyhira, and Valii did not know what serethia meant—it was a special thing, though, and Mama only said it when she was parting from a dearly loved one, so they said it too.

“Serethia, Mama.”

“Kaqurei, what does serethia mean?” Valii asked later as they made their way back over to Grandmama’s teiami.

“It’s a Moon Clan term,” Kaqurei replied. “It’s sort of like saying goodbye, and it’s sort of an emotion, like love. That’s how we describe the emotions of parting with someone you love with all your heart, might, and soul.  It’s that deep, clenching feeling of parting. Mourning the separation, hoping with every fibre of your being for a happy reunion, giving them your deepest affection to carry on their way, a promise that you’ll never ever forget them—this is serethia.”

“Isn’t it funny,” Neyhira said glumly in the tome room that night, “That something that makes you so happy, can make you so sad too, when you miss it?”

“Uh-huh.” Thairyn sighed, putting her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands. “When do you think Mama will be well again?”

“Our own Grandmama said a few days,” Valii said as Neyhira brushed her hair, “So about then, huh?”

Neyhira and Thairyn both sighed heavily.

Valii looked between them. “What?” she asked. “Why’s that bad?”

“Well, Val, a few could mean anything,” Neyhira said.

“But not a lot,” Valii said. “Not a lot of my own days means soon.”

“Another vague word.” Thairyn huffed a dramatic sigh and fell back on her bedding, her wings spread out to make a fantastic whoosh as she fell.

The next morning found Neyhira walking alone through an infrequently trodden area of the Forest. Dracoens called it The Dawnbed, for it was on the eastern edge of the forest, and the Tree Kin were young and spaced fairly far apart—their thin canopies allowed for plenty of light from the rising Kiir. It was not often disturbed, as it did not offer much to its visitors but for a pretty view of the Kiir-rise. The young trees did not yet bear any fruit.

But Neyhira had not come for fruit. Her head was down and her eyes were focused, scanning the forest floor for... well, sticks. She needed a large one; large, but light enough for her to carry easily. Thick, but thin enough for her to wrap her hand around. But most importantly, this stick had to be curved. She had not yet found one suitable for her needs, but she had gathered at least a dozen small, thin sticks for her secondary purpose. These she carried under her right arm.

Her mind was only half on her task—while her hands and eyes dutifully sought out her stick of choice, her thoughts wandered. I wonder why Mama wouldn’t tell us what the bad news was about, she thought. She said “It’s all right, we’re safe.” Why would she talk about us? Was the bad news about us? She wondered about her mother’s brother. Mama did not often speak of her family—Grandfather, Grandmother... this Kaocoa, who must have sent the unhappy message. She had said Grandmother was dead. But Grandfather is still alive, how come we’ve never met him? It made Neyhira feel a little sad. Mama’s family were Moonkinds, but why did that matter? Kaqurei was a Moonkind. They’re still family, aren’t they? She could not imagine growing up and never talking to or about her sisters or her parents again. She did not think Papa could either, he loved his parents and siblings very much, and they all loved him. So how did Mama do it? Why did Mama do it?

Just then, she looked up, squinting in the bright Kiirlight. She could see New Münshir in the distance, past a few trees. It’s so pretty, like the moons, she thought. I wonder what it’s like to live there. Maybe I’ll ask Prince Gideon when we go see him later today. Then her heart skipped a beat, for she spotted, just a little past that one tree, a very promising-looking branch lying in the grass! She ran over to look at it a bit closer.

“Yes, this is perfect!” she exclaimed, stooping down to pick it up. As she lifted it, she became a little sceptical and she knit her feathery light blue brows. “Hmm, well, almost perfect.” She dropped her armful of sticks, and reached up to snap a twig off of the tip of her curved branch. “There,” she said, “Perfect.” She bent down to gather up her little sticks under her arm again.

“Hello there!” cried a familiar voice in trade speak.

Neyhira looked up. Just across the field were people on white horses. Two of them she recognized, Gideon and Nya, but there was a third with them whom Neyhira did not know. Neyhira stood straight and waved. “Salwé!” she called in Münshirling, more or less to show off. Hurriedly, she gathered her sticks. Then she ran across the field to meet them. “Salwé Prince Gideon! Salwé Nya!”

“Salwé Neyhira,” Nya said pleasantly, as he checked his horse’s pace. “Are yeh feelin’ better? What’ve yeh got zere?”

Neyhira hesitated. Again, it took her a minute or two to decipher what he had said due to his accent. “Oh, this?” she asked at last, looking down at her sticks and pointedly avoiding the memory of having been sick. She looked up at him and smiled. “I am to make a stick bow for our game. It will be much fun. I am going to be Keltäme, brother of Princess Telae’ah.” She looked at the one whom she did not know; a young woman, she guessed, for she was lighter of build, with more of a girl sort of shape. She wore a long pleated dress with large fabric representations of flowers attached to the sash and in her brown hair. Her skin was light, though not quite as light as Nya’s, and her eyes were a brownish-green. It seemed to Neyhira that, no matter what shade a Münshirling was, they were all brownish in some way or another; coloured like the earth and rocks whereas her own kind were coloured more like flowers and gemstones. “Salwé,” she said to the girl.

The girl smiled—but it seemed forced somehow.

Gideon looked between them, grinning and showing his teeth, which unnerved Neyhira a little. While the gesture of smiling was familiar to her... showing his teeth seemed aggressive and mean. Her father had told her that Münshirlings smiled like that sometimes; it just meant they were happier... so she tried not to let it bother her.

The girl looked at the Prince and raised a thin eyebrow expectantly. He did not seem to understand, until Nya reached out and nudged him a little. Then Gideon’s eyebrows shot up and he exclaimed, “Oh!” He cleared his throat. “My apologies. Neyhira, this is my good friend Marley. Marley, this is Neyhira, one of the Gem Chief’s daughters I was telling you about.”

Marley gave Neyhira a slow nod. “A pleasure,” she said mildly.

Neyhira’s heart started pounding. Taking great care, she tucked one foot behind the other performed a curtsey. The position felt strange and foolish—holding up either end of her skirt and bending over—so the

gesture was short. She was relieved to see when she looked back up at the Münshirlings that they were still smiling, so she must have done it right. “A pleasure!” she echoed, her face beaming.

Gideon’s horse, a great white stallion, bowed his head and huffed in Neyhira’s face.

She startled, and almost jumped back. Then she laughed—a high-pitched chittering clicking sound deep in her throat to the Münshirlings’ ears. “I have never seen these real live horses before,” she said, looking wistfully at the beast. She looked up at the Prince. “Can I touch him?”

Gideon nodded. “Certainly.”

Neyhira reached up and petted the horse’s soft, velvety nose. She smiled; his fur felt so different from dracoen or meeroh fur! It was so smooth, and kind of wiry to compare. “Are you going to bring him to the Mirror-lake—I mean Hills of the Mirror Water?—(we call it Thämä, but it means the same thing, more or less)—It would make my sister Thairyn excessively happy to meet your horse. She loves animals—all kinds.”

“We were heading there just now, actually,” Gideon said.

“Oh, you are?” Neyhira asked in surprise. “Oh, I must go get Thairyn and Valii, and we will meet you there!” She turned and hurried back towards the forest—but stopped short and turned around again. “Farewell, for now!” She twirled on her toes and started at a run until she disappeared from sight.

“What a curious accent she has,” Gideon said, watching her off. He looked at Marley. “She uses trade speak very well, and yet she twitters it like a biireo, almost too quickly to keep up with.”

Marley said nothing. She looked at the Prince reproachfully. Then she clicked her tongue and reined her horse into an abrupt canter around.

Prince Gideon and Nya exchanged glances and the former roused his steed after her. “Wait, Marley, where are you going?”

“Back to the palace, Your Majesty,” Marley replied tersely, not checking the pace of her steed.

Once he had caught up with her, Prince Gideon slowed his stallion to match pace with Marley’s horse. He gave her a quizzical look. “Why?”

“Because I would rather not,” Marley said. “I am not fit to meet with your planned company.”

“What—the Gem Dracoens...? Marley, come back,” Prince Gideon exclaimed.

Marley looked at him and pursed her lips. “Is that a command, Your Highness?”

“What?” Prince Gideon asked, smiling a little. “No, of course not. It’s a request from one friend to another.”

“Then I shall be going,” Marley said, looking determinedly back at her course.

“A command then,” the Prince revised quickly, leaning over to catch her horse’s reins and checking the pace of his own to stop them both. “You’re being ridiculous. Why do you need a command to enjoy a pleasant evening?”

The straight ladylike posture she had hitherto portrayed was, for a moment, put aside. She leaned towards him and looked at him earnestly. “It shall not be a pleasant evening as far as I am concerned, Gideon,” she said in a low voice.

“Do they make you uncomfortable?” the Prince asked, briefly nodding over his shoulder towards where Neyhira had gone.

“Them, this dress—this whole evening was predetermined behind my back!”

“I told you we would be meeting with the Gem Dracoens.”

Marley rolled her eyes and looked away. Looking at him again, she went on to explain, “My mother insisted I don this ridiculous get-up that I may sit and paint while you and Nya do—I wasn’t even to know! Certainly she did not know. You told me about the Dracoens only as we were just setting off!”

“I had to. If Mistress Goss had known about the Dracoens, she wouldn’t have let you come—she might have seen to it that Nya and I were prevented too,” Gideon said. “It wasn’t to purposefully keep you in the dark.”

“If this were you, Nya, and I alone on our own time, it would be different,” Marley said, “As it is, dressed up like this, and what happened this morning—Gideon, you cannot expect me to go and enjoy this pleasant evening.” She took a deep breath, resumed her ladylike side-saddle pose, and said genteelly, “I will not speak of this further, and I would appreciate it if you also kept it between us—if you would have me accompany you to Mirror Waters still, I will go. But please do not expect me to socialize with your company. Tell me something, why are you doing this, anyway?”

Gideon hesitated. “Meeting with the Dracoens?” he asked.

Marley nodded.

“I want to know more about them, Marley,” he said. “They have long been allies of New Münshir, and yet contact is limited and most people are afraid of them. My father often had meetings with the Gem Chief, as my Grandfather did before him. Uncle Ventus will have no part of that, I think he’s afraid of them too. But I shall be crowned King next month. I want to know more about my allies—this seems to me an appropriate way to start.”

“What do you need to know about them?”

“How they live, their culture,” Gideon said. “The texts treat them the same as animals, stating only the obvious—they’re classified Omnidermia instead of Mammalia because of their feathers and scales, like irwyns, meerohs, and so on. But they have a lot in common with us—”

“Muzzles, tails, and claws aside,” she muttered under her breath.

“Anyway, I want to have good relations with the Gem Clan, and that starts with knowing more about them.”

Keltäme ran as fast as he could, his legendary obsidian bow clenched tightly in his fist and sweat beading on his brow. His mission was urgent—and he did not have much time! The news he bore changed everything—Telae’ah had to be informed! Luckily, he knew where Manairus and Telae’ah were meeting, else precious time be lost in searching for them.

There, he saw Telae’ah standing near a tower—though she did not yet see him; she looked like she was talking to someone in an alleyway. He slowed his pace to a halt and called out to her, but she did not turn. Instead, she stepped around the corner and disappeared from his sight. This confused him; the young hero knitted his brows and tilted his head to one side. Did she not hear him? Hurriedly, he made his way down the streets and to the alleyway.

“Telae’ah did not you—” Keltäme’s voice was caught in his throat, and Neyhira’s went on instead, “Thairyn! What happened to you?”

There were her sisters, hiding in the nook of a large Tree Kin. Thairyn looked down and tried to hide her knee. Valii looked up at Neyhira sadly. Her brows knit together angrily and she said, “Zelvieri hurt Thairyn, on purpose!”

“What?” Neyhira asked. “How bad? Is it bad?”

Thairyn huffed and looked away.

Neyhira looked at Valii seriously. “How bad is it?”

Valii looked at Thairyn, then at Neyhira. Furiously she declared, “She kicked her! And she knocked her down, and now her own knee is scraped!”

“I told Zelvieri her brother has a girl’s name—and he does—then she got mad and hurt me for it!” Thairyn exclaimed, infuriated at the injustice. “It’s not my fault he’s got a girl’s name!”

Valii nodded sympathetically, patting Thairyn’s shoulder.

“We should tell Grandmama,” Neyhira said, “Come on, let’s go find her.”

Thairyn angrily swiped tears from her eyes. “We don’t need to tell Grandmama, I got Zelvieri back. I scratched her, and I’m not sorry. And I’m not going to bring timkaisu over to her today or any other day. No one can make me!”

Neyhira looked sympathetic, but she frowned.

“Why did you scratch her?” Valii asked. She hesitated, and added in a low voice, “You did do bad, now.”

“She was going to bite me!” Thairyn said defensively, giving Valii the most scornful look she had probably ever given anyone. “So I clawed her, right up the nose, and I’m not sorry!”

Neyhira knew that could not be entirely true, because if Thairyn was not sorry, she would not be saying so as much. And if she felt completely innocent, there would be no hesitation on her part when it came to telling Grandmama what happened. Neither would she be hiding, Neyhira realized. As much as she wanted to claim Thairyn innocent, she knew that the adults would not find this so. But far be it from Neyhira to side against her twin—so she stopped looking at the facts. “I’m not sorry either,” she said resolutely, putting her hands on her hips. “She deserved it!” But, slower, she added with less conviction, “...if she was going to bite you.”

If Mama were well, Valii would have picked herself up and ran as fast as she could (to keep her sisters from catching her) to tell Mama what had happened. But Mama was not well, and Valii’s faith in wrongs being made right by an adult was not as strong in her grandmother as it was in her mother. So this would have to wait.

“Well, Manairus,” Neyhira said in her Keltäme voice, “This little ill cannot continue to burden us. The King of New Münshir has called, and Telae’ah and I mean to meet with him.”

Thairyn looked up at her sulkily. “Keltäme wouldn’t have told Manairus that.”

“I know,” Neyhira said, “But it’s true—I just saw Prince Gideon and his friends a little while ago, just outside the forest when I was looking for a stick for my bow. Him, Nya, and a girl named Marley. They’re going to the hills, and I told them we’d meet them, so come on, let’s go!”

“Oh?” Thairyn asked, her eyes brightening. She rubbed her teary face again to try to rid it of evidence that she had cried, but her eyes were still puffy. She crawled out of the nook and helped Valii out after her. “Come on, then.”

“Is your knee all right?” Neyhira asked, looking now that Thairyn was not hiding it.

“It’s not going to slow me down, if that’s what you mean,” Thairyn said. She pulled the cuff of her trousers down over it so that Neyhira could not get a good look. It was not that it was a particularly bad scrape, she just did not want the full extent of how bad or good it was known, in case that influenced sympathy from her sisters in a way she did not like. Telling Valii about her retaliation had already done that.

Neyhira let her get away with it. “Here, let me finish my bow and I’ll meet you—I’ve got to get some twine, and my quiver.” She turned and hurried on her way.

“All right,” Thairyn called. “Come on, Valii—we’ll pretend Keltäme is coming to meet you, but he doesn’t know I’m with you—got that, Neyhira?”

“Got it!” Neyhira replied, waving briefly behind her.

Thairyn took Valii’s hand.

“Are you sure your own knee is all right?” the four-year-old asked in concern.

“It’ll be fine,” Thairyn said, waving her other hand dismissively. “Come on, let’s hurry. Let’s try to get there before Neyhira does.”

Valii followed her quietly, looking down at her feet with a very solemn expression on her face. After a moment, she looked up and asked, “Did you scratch Zelvieri’s own nose very bad?”

Thairyn paused. “No...?”

“Did she cry?”

Thairyn huffed indignantly. “I cried, remember, Val?” she asked. “Zelvieri attacked me, I had to defend myself! I didn’t hurt her bad, but even if I had she would’ve deserved it. Do you think Manairus would let Kahni attack him and let him get away with it? No, he wouldn’t.”

It did not sound right to Valii, in fact, it made her feel awful and heavy inside. Until she could tell Mama, she knew this burden would not go away... and she could not tell anyone except Mama, which made her feel worse.

Her silence was making Thairyn feel very uncomfortable. She knew it was Valii’s you did something bad and I’m going to tell Mama sort of silence. She also knew that if she was going to get Valii to play, she had to do something drastic. Otherwise, Valii would probably just sulk for the rest of the day. So, she hugged her, comfortingly and tight. “It’s okay, Valii,” she said. “I’m okay, and that smelly Zelvieri will be just fine too. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

Valii liked being hugged, and Thairyn sounded sincere, so she snuggled her big sister closer and whispered, “Okay.”

Midnight; The Three Sisters were clear in the sky, each a perfect orb, yet a dark storm hovered ominously in the distance. Two figures stood in the grassland, their faces solemn and grim. Slowly, Manairus looked to Telae’ah at his side. “So downcast,” he said softly, “What is it that burdens you, my dear one?”

Telae’ah looked up at him mournfully. “You know what burdens me, Manairus,” she said. “This war. This terrible, terrible war. (And you scratching Zelvieri). Will it ever end?”

Manairus looked grim. “Not for as long as Kahni leads my people.”

“There must be something we can do to stop him!”

Her hero’s eyes wandered over the grassland, towards New Münshir... but the city’s walls did not glow in the distance, because there was no city. It would not be built for centuries yet; in its place was a small camp of bedraggled Münshirling refugees.

Telae’ah followed his gaze. “It’s not their fault.”

“No?” Manairus asked. “And yet there they stand, a wedge between our peoples. You would defend, and I would destroy.”

“You would not,” Telae’ah said knowingly.

“But it is the purpose of my clan, to rid our land of these poor, wretched souls,” Manairus said, looking at her seriously. “Were it not for the little ones, the clan would still be one.”

“Were it not for petty hate, our clans would still be one,” Telae’ah said. “The Münshirlings did not separate us. Kahni and those that would follow him did, consumed by their bloodthirsty hate for the little ones and all who would protect them. This is a war you and I inherited... we must ensure we do not pass it on to another generation.”

Suddenly, there was a long, hollow cry from a biireo in the grass. The pair startled and focused their earfins towards the noise at once. Then, without another warning, Manairus grabbed Telae’ah’s wrist and ran! “We’ve been seen!” he cried. “To the Forest, quickly!”

A Shadow Dance and they vanished midst their retreat, leaving the grass to sway as though disturbed only by the passing of a breeze.

Valii and Thairyn ran with all their strength, barefooted through the Forest of Gems. They skipped nimbly past the branches of saplings and under large curling roots, until at last they exited the forest and came to Glassmere Hills. Not stopping yet for a breath, they scurried up the first hill they met, down, up another, and down into the tall grass at its foot. Then, quite abruptly, they stopped, and were for a moment as still as statues; Valii crouching down in the long grass and Thairyn standing tall with her earfins erect and alert. Panting, Thairyn looked this way and that.

“Did they follow our own selves?” Valii gasped in her Telae’ah voice just above a whisper.

Thairyn looked around again. Then she sank down to her knees under the grass with Valii. “No, I don’t think so,” she said in Manairus’ voice. “We must be quiet still, though.”

How it hurt to try to be quiet after having run so fast! Valii’s lungs burned as she tried to force herself to breathe slower in hopes of being quieter.

Thairyn’s left earfin perked up. She put her forefinger over her lips and slowly peeked up over the grass. She could see the lake for which the Glassmere Hills were named some distance away; its smooth surface was still and clear blue reflecting the bright Kiirlit sky above. She saw a group of figures on its shores; three large white animals and three Münshirlings stood together there—Prince Gideon and Nya, and another figure, who must be the girl Neyhira had mentioned. Thairyn smiled and her heart skipped a beat. But now was not the time for Thairyn to be eager and excited. Manairus would not like this new development. She ducked down under the cover of the grass again and looked at Telae’ah as grimly as she could. “Münshirlings,” Manairus whispered. “Three of them, at the lake.”

Telae’ah looked surprised. “They must be here to meet with my father,” she said.

Suddenly there was a noise; it started as a rustling at the top of the hill. Manairus and Telae’ah looked up. Someone was coming! Manairus looked at Telae’ah. Mentally, he timed the sounds of the stranger’s steps. Then, suddenly, he launched up, caught the figure by his muzzle and a wingshoulder, and dragged him down under the grass!

The figure let out a muffled shriek of surprise! He struggled and kicked!

“Keltäme!” Telae’ah exclaimed, recognizing the captive at once. “Manairus, let him go!”

Surprised, Manairus obeyed.

Keltäme sat up and spat the grass out of his mouth. He looked at Manairus scornfully. “What’d you do that for?” Neyhira demanded.

Manairus pretended Keltäme had spoken, however out of character. “I am sorry, Keltäme. We thought you were one of Kahni’s spies.”

Neyhira looked between her sisters, miffed to say the least. After a moment, she smoothed down her hair, evidently deciding to play along in spite of feeling insulted. “We? What are you doing here, Manairus?”

Telae’ah looked reproachful. “He saved my life, Keltäme.”

“After endangering it in the first place, no doubt.”

Manairus narrowed his eyes. “There was a spy just outside the forest,” he said. “I did not know then how he might have found us, but I presume now, seeing your guests, that it was a fortunate accident for him. He was likely tracking the Münshirlings here.”

“Münshirlings?” Keltäme repeated. He peeked above the grass and saw them. Neyhira felt her cheeks get hot. “Oh, Thairyn, I feel silly,” she squeaked. “They don’t know what we’re doing, and what if they see us? Let’s go out and talk to them, and then we can keep playing.”

Thairyn pinned back her earfins in annoyance. “Regardless of their purpose here, or prior quarrels, Keltäme,” Manairus said, looking pointedly at him, “We must greet them and see that they are not waylaid by Kahni’s spies on the way back from whence they came.”

Neyhira sighed. “No, Thairyn, they’ll think we’re silly,” she said. “We have to tell them what we’re doing first.”

“That’s no fun,” Thairyn said, wrinkling her nose. “Besides, I think Gideon will understand—and if he doesn’t, I know Nya will.”

“Well, I’m going anyway,” Neyhira said. She stood up out of the grass, pointed her nose indignantly up in the air, and started on her way.

Valii crouched lower and pinned back her earfins. It was all right when she was playing Telae’ah and going to see the Münshirlings, but suddenly she felt very small and shy as Valii. She looked up at Thairyn anxiously.

Thairyn muttered something less than complimentary about Neyhira under her breath. With a sigh, she looked at Valii and clicked her tongue. “It’s okay, Val,” she said. Then she added, looking off reproachfully after her twin, “Even if Neyhira is a spoil-sport.”

It took a little convincing to get Valii to come out of the grass and go meet the Münshirlings, but eventually Thairyn managed and the pair set off across the field after their sister.

“Hello!” Gideon exclaimed, in trade speak of course, when he saw them.

The twins echoed his greeting. “Please forgive me that we are late, I had to create my bow and it took very much time,” Neyhira added once they were closer. She noted that the Münshirlings had laid out an ornately patterned sheet of cloth over the grass a short distance from the horses and the lake, and it was there that the girl with brown hair sat, alone and looking a bit preoccupied with something in her hands. She did not look up to see them.

“Not at all, we just barely arrived ourselves.”

Neyhira hesitated. Had he just said that we would not forgive them? He did not look upset though. And why should he be if they only just arrived as well?

Seeing her hesitation, he clarified, “All is well.”

Thairyn looked at the girl suspiciously. It was because of this one that Neyhira had decided not to play, she was sure. Perhaps that was what made the first impression bad, or perhaps it was her distinctly cold manner. Either way Thairyn decided at once, though perhaps unfairly, that she did not like the girl. And she would not like her, at that. She softly snorted her disapproval and returned her gaze to Gideon. “Did you practice your death scene?” she asked brightly. “You were not very much good last time, but I am prepared to teach it to you.”

“In good time, yes, Thairyn,” Gideon said, motioning with his hands that she slow down. “You’ve not met my friend, Marley.” He gestured towards the girl on the blanket.

Now Marley looked up, and she smiled briefly with a smile that did not reach her eyes.

Thairyn resisted wrinkling her nose, but did not smile back. She afforded her a nod while Neyhira proudly assumed the curtsey she had accomplished earlier. Valii put her right hand on her left shoulder and bowed her head, wings and earfins raised high while looking her right in the eye. This was a respectful stance, but a dominant one; she considered these persons to be of equal or null authority. When Neyhira noticed her little sister’s pose, she gasped and touched her shoulder, “No, Valii, like this,” she whispered, and she curtseyed in Münshirling fashion again.

Valii thought the gesture quite stupid, but she did it anyway. Neyhira was older and knew better, after all.

Gideon seemed pleased by it, at any rate. He chuckled softly and went on to introduce each of the sisters by name to Marley.

Marley nodded politely. “A pleasure, I’m sure,” she said. She gave Gideon a look, though what it meant was beyond the three young Dracoens. It certainly did not seem like a happy look. But Marley went on to say courteously, “Please, don’t mind me. I have some needlework to finish and shall likely provide little amusement to the company.”

Perhaps this statement had been meant to ward them off, but, to the contrary, it intrigued little Valii. Gideon said something in trade speak—something along the lines of curiosity about the gesture of greeting she had made, but Valii was not interested in him. Neyhira would answer his silly questions. Instead, having understood that Marley was weaving, and that something was funny, the little girl wandered past the prince towards his friend on the blanket.

Marley’s eyes were cast down at her work, so she did not at first notice Valii approaching.

Valii was a little awkward, and she tried not to get too close to the stranger, but she so dearly desired to

see what the girl was doing. True to the words that had so interested her to begin with, she saw that Marley was indeed weaving something, but she was doing it... well, wrong. Maybe there was a different way to weave, just as there had been a different way to greet someone, but Valii felt sure that the Münshirling was just making a mess that her own mother would have to undo later. She did recognize a sort of pattern in the stranger’s movements... and a pattern was key when weaving... but it still did not look right to Valii.

Marley, though she had now noticed the young Gem Dracoen leaning towards her, had kept her eyes down and hoped that the girl would lose interest eventually and rejoin her siblings as they, the Prince, and Nya all walked a short distance away, chatting excitedly about plans for what they were going to do today. This was not the case, much to her dismay. Valii continued to watch her work with increasing interest. Marley considered then whether or not to set her work aside and pretend to be bored of it, or perhaps pretend to have left something in the saddlebags as an excuse to get away from this awkward situation. She also considered looking up briefly as a means of polite acknowledgement of her company, in the same manner as she would the dainty ladies of the court her mother always made her go out with. Yet, ultimately, Marley would not be the one to instigate interaction, for Valii decided then that Marley was not weaving very well, and she ought to be corrected.

“No, no, Marley,” Valii said.

As predetermined earlier should the awkward silence end, Marley looked up at her. Valii then tried to convey to Marley the error of her ways, but unfortunately, she could only think of one or two words in trade speak (“no” and “not”) to explain, and resorted to pure Dracoen tongue to fill in the rest.

Marley had no idea how to respond. She tried to think of something to say, but she did not know whether she should apologize, pretend that she understood, or say nothing and return to her needlework. The one thing she was sure of was that miscommunication, even when both parties spoke the same tongue, led to complications. Even to do nothing at this point might be interpreted ill. However, that was the lesser of all the evils, so Marley decided to say nothing at all.

Valii could see that Gideon’s friend was confused. This stirred great compassion in her. She tried repeating herself, but achieved the same result as before. She attempted to try to convey with hand motions to Marley that her stitch was all wrong. However, nothing Valii did could make her understand.

At length Marley was forced to say something, else her silence provoke frustration on behalf of the Gem Dracoen. “Do forgive me, I have no idea what you are saying,” she said, and glanced up somewhat desperately for Gideon. Of course, he was currently romping about ridiculously with the other two Dracoens, and was of no use at all. Wooden swords, indeed!

Though Valii did not know what Marley had said, she smiled broadly, glad to have made some communication at last. Happily, she sat down on the blanket next to Marley and started talking a mile a minute in Dracoen about how it was okay that she had messed up, because Valii knew how to sew quite well and she would be pleased to show her.

Helplessly, Marley watched Valii twitter away and did nothing to stop her as she took her needlework right out of her hands and started to—well, ruin it. She undid all of the stitches and proceeded to make new ones of her own. If Marley was a creative person, she might have gathered then what the misunderstanding was and what Valii was doing. But Marley was not a creative person. Fortunately, however, she was a very polite one, otherwise the situation might have gone awry. She looked up and called out in Münshirling, “Your Highness, would you come here for a moment? I would be most appreciative of your time.”

Gideon, though he had his back towards her at the moment, knew at once that something was wrong. She sounded very much like her mother, Mistress Goss, both in word and tone. He had been in the midst of playing dead when Marley had spoken. He stood up, brushed the grass from his hair, and excused himself from the Dracoen girls’ company so that he could see what the matter was. His first thought was that she might be upset with him for his unruly behaviour, as Marley was using the same tone as the nurse did when he had done something wrong. He soon found out this was not the case.

“Gideon,” Marley continued in Münshirling, her tone sweet and her smile polite. “I have no idea what she is talking about” (for Valii was still twittering about the right way to weave) “or why she took my needlework, but could you please direct her attention elsewhere? Why isn’t she playing with you and the others? I told you before that I am not in the sorts to entertain!”

Thairyn and Neyhira came over, accompanied by Nya, also to see what the trouble was. They understood what Marley said, and Valii, seeing them, cheerfully added that Marley had not been able to do her sewing right, but that she was showing her how.

After hearing both sides of the story, Thairyn looked at Valii’s work, nodded contentedly and said to Marley, “She is correcting your sewing. You were doing it wrong.”

Marley was silent. She looked at Valii. She looked at Thairyn. “Ah,” she said simply. Then she gave Gideon another of those looks that the Dracoen girls could not understand.

Gideon and Nya both looked like they both might burst into laughter, though neither dared. “Well, there you have it,” Gideon said, grinning like a horse.

Instantly all pleasantness fled Marley's face, replaced by a glare that made Thairyn think that Gideon was about to have a lesson in what it meant to really be dead. Then Marley smiled. “There I have it?” She nodded ironically, briefly throwing up her hands. She looked at Gideon seriously, still smiling in a venomous sort of way. “We’ll talk about this later.” Slowly and meticulously, she smoothed her skirts and clasped her hands in a graceful, ladylike posture. “In the meantime,” she said, cool and detached, “What were you and your friends doing over there, romping and rolling about in the grass like a trio of volacanids?”

“I was teaching him to die,” Thairyn said. “Do you know how to die?”

“I would assume it comes to one naturally when circumstances dictate it as a necessity,” Marley said cordially, though her voice was laced with sarcasm.

“Not to Gideon,” Thairyn said. “He could not die to save his life. Go ahead, Gideon, show her.”

Marley looked at Gideon and smiled in a strange sort of way. Gideon blushed crimson ear to ear.

To the startling of the whole lot, Valii suddenly dropped her sewing, leapt up, and started flailing her wings and crying out in great excitement and distress something in the Dracoen tongue.

Thairyn and Neyhira rushed to calm their sister; the former catching Valii by the shoulder, sitting her down, and replacing the sewing in her lap. She went on to speak to her in soothing tones, touching her cheeks as a way of illustrating something, while Neyhira nodded and agreed until Valii had calmed down (after asking only a few questions and pointing at Gideon).

“What was that about?” Gideon asked at length.

“You blushed,” Neyhira said. “Valii did not know that would make your blood show through your face, because you do not have scales. It surprised her.”

Valii continued to stare at Gideon, looking a little concerned.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Gideon said, and, of course, he only blushed again.

Valii moaned and pinched her nose.

“She thought your head was going to explode,” Thairyn said.

“Oh,” Gideon said, looking so embarrassed that Neyhira felt very sorry for him. “Goodness, I’m sorry.”

“Is that why you do not have markings, also? Because you do not have scales?” Neyhira asked, in spite of herself.

Nya was grinning in a funny way at his friend, but cheerfully obliged in drawing some of the attention away from him. “Well, actually, we do have a mark, ’t least ze zree of us do—Gideon, Marley, an’ me,” he said. Gideon knitted his brows and looked confused. Nya rolled up his sleeve. “Not like Dracoen markings, but ’tis a birthmark o’sorts, I suppose.”

There, on his exposed shoulder, was quite a startling marking, indeed. Startling, perhaps, because it was so uniform in appearance, and also because its colour contrasted so much against his pale skin that it did not look natural at all. It was a perfect diamond shape, black as pitch, with a small circle next to each of the lower angles and at the top right angle as well.

“Oh, that!” Gideon said. “Yes, right here.” He rolled up his sleeve and showed the girls his mark too.

Neyhira furrowed her brow. Aside from his skin tone and shoulder build, the mark looked identical on both of them. She looked at Gideon. “Are you sure you were born like that? Are you twins?” Though, really, she had never seen such a perfectly identical mark, without any sort of variation, even on twins—well, unless they were identical twins, that is, which Gideon and Nya clearly could not be.

Gideon laughed. “We’re not even brothers,” he said. “Marley has one too. My father said the mark was caused by a bad sort of titubic before we were born.”

Valii set down the sewing, stood up, and approached Thairyn. She tugged on the hem of her kyntin.

“What is it, Val?” Thairyn asked in Dracoen.

“I wanna go home now.”

“We’re not going home yet! We just got here!”

Meanwhile, Marley leaned over casually to take a quick look at what had become of her needlework. While it was no longer recognizable as the flowers and vines she had been stitching before, it certainly was pretty. It looked to be a sort of crewel embroidery in a swirling sort of pattern she could not even begin to relate to or understand. She raised an eyebrow, but said nothing and casually returned to her ladylike pose.

“What is—er—titubic?” Neyhira asked while her twin was gingerly poking Nya’s mark.

Gideon paused. He had to think for a moment before he could describe it. “Well, it’s a really contagious disease; it comes on suddenly and spreads though people like wildfire, runs its course, and then goes away. The symptoms differ from year to year, some titubics are worse than others. The common denominator is that it causes a sort of dizziness and weakness, hence the name. In Münshirling, titubus means to be confused or to stumble. There was a lot of superstition about titubics in the old days—people came up with all sorts of ideas about what caused them; ridiculous, really, now that we know about germs and things. Now days, people’s ideas about what causes a titubic are still ridiculous, but based more in the realm of corrupt government and less in the realm of magia. Every year there’s a titubic, but most of them just have mild symptoms and don’t really garner much attention. Then, every once in a while, we’ll have a really bad one and people will break into hysteria, coming up with all sorts of explanations, blaming the government or heaven or each other. It’s ridiculous.”

His other descriptions aside, Neyhira understood what a sickness was. As for the rest of it, she did not really care. However, she nodded as though enlightened and commented, “Oh.”

Thairyn started rubbing Nya’s mark. He did not seem to mind. She announced as though she had made an incredible discovery: “It’s your real skin, too! It doesn’t even come off!”

Nya chuckled. “Aye, real skin.” He looked at Gideon. “Ridiculous as zey be, Y’cannot really blame zem, eizer way. As yeh said, we know about germs and zings, yet we still d’not know what causes titubics, or where zey come from. It frustrates people when zeir leaders cannot answer ze simple question ‘why’, especially in such an advanced society as ours. Zey zink eizer we lied about ze superiority of our science, or we’re hiding ze answers from zem—for surely, if our science is as great as we boast, how could we not find ze answers?”

“Thair, I wanna go home,” Valii insisted quietly.

Thairyn stubbornly ignored her. “Can I see your horses?” she asked in Münshirling, “Please?”

Gideon looked as though he wanted to say more to Nya, but he set it aside for now. Instead he turned to Thairyn and smiled. “Of course, you may even ride one if you like.”

Valii stood when her sisters did and followed them a short while with the expectation that they were finally going home. But when they started to approach the strange white animals instead, she stopped. Her

shoulders sank. Then she returned to Marley’s side on the blanket. It all checked out in her mind; there were three sisters and three Münshirlings. Gideon was Thairyn’s “own friend”, because she seemed to like him the best. Nya was Neyhira’s own friend, because they were both soft-spoken and their names were similar. And now there was Marley to be Valii’s own friend... this had pleased Valii very much at first—she had her very own Münshirling friend! But now, and while she would defend her if ever her sisters said so, the fact was that her own friend was boring. Valii liked Marley very much. She was nice for thinking Valii was such a sweet girl for helping her, enough to tell Gideon all about it in her funny language. But she really was a stick in the mud when it came to having fun. And anyway, no one was translating for Valii as they had done last time and the evening’s excitement had left her very tired... very tired. She wanted to go home and take a nap.

Gideon led Thairyn and Neyhira to the horses and gesturing to the big stallion that Neyhira had petted earlier. “This is Niveo.”

All three horses were grazing alongside the lake, but Niveo and another at his side raised their heads as the Prince and the girls approached, their ears up and focused towards them. The one near him shook its mane and resumed grazing, while Niveo got a bright sort of look in his big brown eyes; he swished his tail back and forth and started trotting towards the Prince, making strange grunting-snorting noises. The movements intimidated Thairyn and Neyhira at first—they paused and waited, unsure of him; the animal was very large and all of his “body language” was strange to them. Tail-lashing, however innocent in a horse, was an aggressive or irritated gesture not only in their own kind, but also in most of the tail-possessing animals that they were familiar with. Gideon did not seem to mind. He smiled and proceeded to walk comfortably and confidently towards the animal, extending his hand out to touch its muzzle when it was close enough. “Niveo,” he said softly as the horse puffed in his face and nuzzled him. “Si, si... Puéro est bonus. Placet tu mé.” Gideon laughed a little as the horse snuffled his ear, and he reached up to scratch its neck. He looked over his shoulder at the Dracoen girls and beckoned that they come towards him.

Seeing their hesitation, Nya (who had stayed near the blanket with Marley and Valii) called out, “It’s all right, he won’t hurt yeh. Niveo’s ze most gentle of ze lot of zem. Just approach him slow, ‘nd mind his space. Prince Gideon’ll show yeh.”

Gideon nodded and smiled. “That’s right. Come on.”

The girls approached him, Neyhira more readily than Thairyn as she believed what the Münshirlings had said and Thairyn did not.

“Hold out your hand, let him smell it,” Gideon said. When they were close enough, he moved around to the side of his horse and patted its neck.

Neyhira let the horse smell her hand first. She giggled as the big, soft nose nuzzled at her hand and breathed on her with his hot, moist breath. “See, Thairyn? He’s nice,” she said softly to her sister at her side. “It kinda feels like he’s going to gobble you up, but don’t worry, he won’t.”

Thairyn carefully reached out to the horse. “You’re a good boy, Niveo...” All her nervousness left her in the moment he started sniffling her hand. “I like you!” He lifted his head and huffed in her hair, sending a thrill up her spine and making her scales bristle for a moment, and she laughed! “I like him!” she declared, looking at Gideon victoriously. “Can I ride him, really?”

Gideon laughed too, patting the horse’s neck again. “Of course! I said so before, didn’t I?”

Gideon gave Thairyn a leg up, and, while she felt the whole situation was awkward, she was able to get on Niveo’s back easily enough, particularly for someone who had never ridden a horse before, let alone even seen one before that day. Gideon helped Neyhira up on the horse’s back too, and secretly felt that Niveo should be awarded a medal for his patience with her. Neyhira did not take to it half as well as her sister did. Once they were both situated in the saddle, though, Gideon led his horse by the bridle around the field a couple of times. It was, in the twins’ minds, a decidedly unpleasant experience, as the saddle had not been built to be very accommodating to a pair of Dracoens, and the horse’s gait was bouncy and bumpy due to their strange weight. They could not quite ride his movements very well. Both felt Niveo was about as comfortable as they were. However, when the ride was done and they got off of him, both sisters loved Niveo every bit as much as they had when they had first met him, and neither spoke a word about disliking the ride. They politely thanked Gideon for it instead, and resolved to themselves that they would never attempt to ride a horse again.

After the ride, Gideon and the two sisters returned to the picnic blanket, where Marley and Nya were engaged in a quiet conversation and little Valii lay asleep. Marley looked up and suggested that they eat before the food got too much colder, which, after a quick exchange of glances, gave the Dracoen girls excuse to take Valii home—though, not without a promise to see Gideon and his friends again soon.