There have been instances of twin childstones manifesting, but this happens extremely infrequently, about 85% less often than twin children, and only very rarely corresponds with twin births. Thus, in the event of twins, one child must be left powerless unless exceptional circumstances allow otherwise. If you suspect a twin childstone is developing, contact a surgeon IMMEDIATELY, before it becomes too large to safely remove.

-On Preparing for Family Development

Desten had already left when I woke up well into the afternoon. I did run into one of the others with whom we shared the house, Myrett. He was a local, heir to the sizable estate which included Lirndyn Cottage where we were staying, but hoped to move across the mountains to Leetan with a woman he was currently courting. Avys, his brother, disagreed vehemently with Myrett’s decision to abandon him, and refused to accept responsibility for the estate. So, they were renting it out in hopes of finding the right person to take it off their hands.

He was very friendly, and liked to talk. When I tried to excuse myself to find breakfast, he led the way to the kitchens and continued to talk the entire way.

I got the impression he was very stressed and a bit lonely. His beloved Jashor Leetan wouldn’t be able to leave home for another six weeks, which to Myrett felt like an eternity. He didn’t come right out and beg me to buy his family home, but he certainly dropped enough subtle and less than subtle hints that it would be his ideal outcome.

My protests that I had no money whatsoever did little to dissuade him, as though he thought that talking more about it might change my circumstances as well as my decision not to purchase.

But I did get a hearty breakfast, and he knew the city. I managed to ask after anyone who would know Fylen, and he said Fylen had been through often enough in the later months, but he didn’t know who he was meeting or why he spent so much time away from the capital.

And, by the way, had he mentioned that he had a lovely house for sale?

I wanted to ask how people got money around here anyway, when so few of them had anything approaching a normal job from what I could see, but I also wanted to escape Third Myrett as quickly as possible before any more hours vanished in extensive discussion of the house’s many good points. It could be rented easily to touring circuit attendees! It included substantial grounds, three outbuildings, and a part-ownership in a popular and profitable local workshop.

“Yes, I’d love to buy the place, but I really can’t afford it and I have things to take care of,” I said firmly for probably the eighth time, this time backing up my insistence with turning my back on the beleaguered heir and walking away. He followed, but only until I left the house and started toward the Towers. I wasn’t sure if they’d even be open today, considering the mess the party probably left in its wake, but I didn’t know where else to go and I had to get away.

It suddenly hit me how very alone I was here. Desten 3 was my only lifeline. I had no friends, no resources, no acquaintances, and not even the shallow protection of being a Varon in a Varon city.

I wandered the city for a while, then returned to Lirndyn Cottage by way of my balcony and sat on my extravagant bed.

I pulled out the fake diary I’d created for Astesh, flipping through the worn pages of fabricated childhood memories. I’d done my best to adapt true circumstances, keeping the emotion and meaning behind them while changing the events themselves to fit Astesh’s fictional background.

I added a few more entries about the parties through the past days, careful to avoid writing anything that could give me away, focusing on the feeling of them more than the exact details.

I was still working when someone knocked at my balcony door. I looked up; it was Desten, so I motioned for him to come in.

“We have an appointment in an hour with Eirn-Fourth Pelys. Do you need help with anything before we go?”

“Not that I can think of. Who’s Eirn-Fourth Pelys?”

“One of Fylen’s closest friends.”

I stared, speechless.

Desten shrugged. “I’m not entirely caught up in my crusade to save the world.”

“How?”

“I asked around. Here, your crest is askew, you can't go out in public like this.” He carefully adjusted my clothing, straightening it from where I’d thrown it on carelessly, then offered a hand. “Ready?”

“Now? I thought we had an hour.”

“I’m not the fastest flier, and there’s no scheduled trips to Northpoint today. Everyone’s heading south to today’s main circuit event.”

I took his hand, and his power encircled us.

And then once again I was rushing toward an interview with no time to prepare.

Desten didn’t speak, his full attention on moving us as quickly as possible. I stared down at the ground beneath us, astonished at our speed. We raced up the mountain range, the lakes soon disappearing behind us.

We paused halfway for Desten to rest, landing near the top of a convenient mountain for several minutes before resuming our trip north. Then the ocean appearing ahead in the distance. I’d never seen the ocean, not really. Yes, I’ve always known it surrounds us on every side, but it’s all the way to the far edges of the world.

At first, I thought it was just another lake, but the closer we got, as the mountains blocked less of the view, I realized its true magnitude. Vast, spreading out in every direction, as though the whole world were just a boat drifting on its surface. It was rather dizzying to imagine. My world kept feeling smaller and smaller. If the entire world could be flown across in hours, and endless water surrounded us, where was there to go? What was there to do? Nothing but stand our ground, fight off the incursions, and survive as best we could.

Wait, why was I including myself in ‘fight off the incursions’ now?

And then, there it was. Northpoint. The Sarosa capital, and Fylen’s home city. All too soon, we swooped down into normal traffic. I wouldn’t have known how to get around in the busy daytime, I’d so far only spent one night actually flying around, and completely ignored height lane conventions in the process.

I wasn’t ready, but opportunity has to be seized or abandoned, and I couldn’t afford to throw away any opportunity right now.

Desten landed us on a gold-plated balcony with only minor trepidation, hesitated a moment after dispelling his aura while he breathed slowly and deeply, then tapped on the attached door.

After a minute, a young man with long brown hair and pale green eyes opened the door and gestured for us to enter.

Desten hung back. "I'll wait at the plaza," he said, pointing so I'd know which direction to head. "I'm sure this is none of my business."

"Thank you," I said, truly impressed by the effort and time he must have spent on arranging this for me, and his willingness to adjust his plans around it while not insisting on prying.

Desten nodded, flared yellow, and flew off.

"Eirn-Fourth Pelys?" I asked.

"You can just call me Pel." He sat on a very elegant sofa, exhaled heavily, then motioned for me to sit when I made no move. "I thought I'd already met all Fylen's friends. Every time I hear of another, it brings everything back."

"I'm so sorry," I said, feeling like even more of an impostor than I already was. "Is there anything we can do for his family? The daughter, is she ...?"

"Fyless. She'll live. From everything I've heard. They're not announcing anything publicly until it's absolutely certain, but they believe they've resolved as much as can be resolved." He hesitated. "I'm not sure how much you've heard about Fylen's death?"

The memory of his destroyed body filled my mind, and I shuddered.

Pel looked away. "Yeah. It was not a good end. A terrible situation. I have no idea who would be so brash. But we're going to find out."

"We?"

He smiled sharply. "You're not the only one who doesn't know how to help. There are a lot of us who want justice for Fylen. He deserved better. And we're going to ensure he isn't forgotten."

I couldn't stop a relieved smile. So my information could be useful after all! It might matter to something. After disappointment after discouragement, this was exactly what I needed to hear. "Where do we start?" I asked, momentarily forgetting that my goal was to learn about Fylen, not get started avenging him just yet.

"Well, you were one of the last to see him, from what Eirn Desten said?"

"Yes, probably. He was around Midpeak the day before he disappeared, right? I was in the area and that's when I saw him."

"That's what I've heard too. What did he say?"

"Oh, we didn't speak. I only knew him by reputation. I wouldn't have dared just walk up and start talking to him."

"Ah." Pel looked a little disappointed. "As far as we can tell, he didn't talk to anyone that last day. At least, not anyone who's willing to speak up. Which doesn't make sense. He was very determined, in the weeks leading up to then, very focused on some project. But he didn't share it with anyone. Not me, not Vess, not even Aneeyha."

"What kind of project would be so secret even his wife couldn't know about it?" I wondered aloud.

"The kind that could get him killed," Pel said darkly. "Obviously, he didn't want to risk worrying her, and he was trying to resolve whatever it was quickly so he could be done with it before he had to settle down and worry about his family. I fear he rushed things too much, pushed too hard, and got in over his head."

"Did he ever mention Desten?" I asked impulsively.

Pel frowned in concentration. "Not that I recall, no," he said. "But he knew a lot of people from a lot of places. It may have just never come up."

I sat up straighter. "But isn't Aneeyha's brother named Desten? Fylen never mentioned him?"

Pel shook his head slowly. "No, he hasn't. That's interesting. I didn't even know Aneeyha had a brother."

"Really? He hasn't visited or anything?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"And you know her family pretty well, other than Desten?"

"Yes. I've met both Fylen's and Aneeyha's parents multiple times. None of them ever mentioned a brother."

"I could be mistaken, I was going off a genealogy, and I might be mis-remembering," I said, but I didn't think I was. I'd taken great care in selecting the Destens for my suspect list, and Desten Metako was definitely listed next to Aneeyha Metako Sarosa. The only way I could be incorrect would be if the record itself were incorrect. I'd memorized it precisely.

"So you're in, I assume?" Pel said after a moment's silence. "You seem enthusiastic."

"I was already conducting my own investigation, honestly. I'm just glad to have allies. Since I never even officially met Fylen, it was getting hard for me to learn things like who he would have met, anyone he had disagreements with, anyone who might benefit from his removal, that sort of thing." A thought struck me. "I don't suppose there's anyone else with designs on Aneeyha? Any past relationships, or people who might feel they deserve her more than Fylen?"

"No, nothing like that. She was betrothed to Fylen for years before they were old enough to marry, and they've always known they were meant for each other and no one else. Once they were old enough to decide if they wanted to follow through on their families' arrangement or break it off, neither had any objection so it became official."

For a moment, I envied their clear place in the world. Wouldn't it be nice to know exactly where you were meant to be, who you should marry, what your occupation would be? No uncertainty about whether you could beat out the competition, no fears of not making enough to survive, no constant struggle for balance. Just a plain, obvious path which required nothing of you but to follow it. I sighed and forced my attention back to the conversation.

"And no one else objected?" I pressed.

"No one else has a right to object."

"But, privately? Was no one angry, or anything?"

Pel shrugged. "I didn't know Fylen that well back then. I only met him in focus school, maybe five years ago. They were already together by then, I never knew him before Anneyha. They always seemed perfect for each other. I can't imagine who would want to tear them apart."

"Well, sometimes people do crazy things," I said, trying not to fall any further into depression. Things were going well, looking up. This was a time to be positive, not wallow in the past. The present and the future were stressful enough without dragging the darkest pieces of my history up with them.

"Yes, but why?" Pel sighed. "The more I look into this, the less sense it makes. Everyone loved Fylen. He was friendly, responsible, dedicated, skilled. Everything we would want in a future reirn."

"So you think it was someone from outside the house?"

Pel shook his head. "We don't know enough to think anything, one way or another. He died in Sarosa lands, and there was enough residue around to make it seem like he probably was ambushed by two or three people. Why he would be out there all by himself, why they would know to wait for him, we don't know. Whatever his secret project was, it seems he was involved with some unsavory types who finally ended up taking him out of the equation."

“Are there unsavory types in Sarosa cities?”

“Are there none in Varon?”

“Um, I haven’t seen any, but I suppose there must be." I sighed, feeling suddenly stupid. "Of course there are unsavory types everywhere, aren’t there? An unavoidable fact of life, however powerful one may be?”

Pel nodded. “It can be easy to forget. When life seems to go well.”

“Are you sure it was more than one person?"

"Fairly sure. There were traces of at least three distinct power signatures in the area aside from Fylen's own. One was very faint, so it might have been historical rather than relevant, but the others were definitely of equivalent strength and equal decay rates."

"Can you trace the people involved from their power signatures?"

Pel shook his head. "That's not how it works. There are ranges of power, it's enough to tell if there was someone with a vastly different power, but not to discern individuals. You can tell someone with force and someone with fire fought someone with water, and there was also someone whose signature is too weak to spectrum in the area. But it could have been three force and eight fire verses twenty water and we wouldn't know. Well, the quantity makes it clear that one force and one fire is the most likely scenario, though there may have been a second force."

"Uh." I hesitated. "Force is red, and fire is yellow, right?"

Wait. That's right. Fylen and Desten had fought in a dome of power. Red power, not either of theirs. Who had made it? The dome was part of the whole official dueling thing that made Fylen's death legal. So who had enabled it?

Pel was right. A third person was involved. That made things more complicated. We didn't even have a name. Half the Varon population had red power, and dozens or even hundreds in each of the other territories.

I sighed. Why was it that the moment things advanced, they also had to get more complicated.

"Right," Pel answered. "And Fylen's water would have been blue."

"That one's easy," I said, trying not to sound discouraged. "So we have the fire guy who actually killed him, and the force user who enabled it."

"We don't know who did what."

"But, would the fire guy be able to make a force barrier himself?"

"What force barrier?"

Oh. There I went again, dropping information I didn't need to. Why was I so bad at this? "Um, to keep Fylen from escaping?"

Pel hesitated, frowning.

For a moment, I considered if I should trust Pel. If he knew I'd been a witness, but I left out anything about the childstone, what would it hurt?

"Can I tell you something very secret that could get me killed if anyone else knows about it, and trust you not to spread it to anyone?" I asked, very seriously.

"What have you gotten yourself into?" Pel asked, shaking his head. "No, I don't want to know. I should have seen this coming. Why else would you take so long to come to me?"

"No, it's not like that. It's related to his secret project."

"I thought you said you'd never spoken to him."

"No. But I saw and heard him speaking to someone else."

Pel stood and paced for a moment, scowling, then returned and sat abruptly opposite me. "Alright. Talk. What did you see?"

"Promise you won't tell anyone. I'm serious. If the killers find out what I know, they could get rid of me far easier than they got rid of Fylen."

"Yes, you have my word. I won't tell anyone who doesn't need to know."

I didn't like that evasion, not at all, but I needed allies. I couldn't keep fumbling around hoping to somehow do this all on my own. So, an abridgment perhaps. I could tell him something without giving away my own role.

I considered a long moment before answering carefully. "Fylen was arguing with someone he called Eirn Desten. Desten was angry, I could tell he wanted to hurt Fylen. And the last thing I heard Fylen say to him was, 'you never lived well'. Do you know of anyone to whom Fylen would say something like that?"

Pel’s frown deepened. “You never lived well?” He shook his head. “I don’t know of anyone he would say that about. And I don’t know anyone named Desten who he would have interacted with more than superficially.”

“Then maybe it wasn’t personal? Is there anyone else in your circles who had a grudge against Desten? Or, could Fylen have gone after him on behalf of someone else Desten hurt?”

“Can you describe him?”

“Not really. The lighting was bad, I only knew it was Fylen because that’s what Desten called him.”

“And you’re sure it’s not the guy you’re traveling with?”

“Pretty sure. Desten 3 is convinced we have to unite the houses more closely to prevent another continental war from breaking out. I can’t picture him violently slaughtering Fylen.”

“You mean Eirn-Third Desten?”

I was confused by his question for a minute, until I realized he’d misunderstood. “No, I numbered them. They’re my primary suspect list. Most are Varon, for obvious historical reasons. Desten 1 is the nephew of Reirn Ushan Varon. He’s strict and has a temper, but he’s also very lawful. Desten 2 is the verdis player, and while he has a bit of a reputation he has the wrong hairstyle and his voice is too deep. Desten 3, I’ve been traveling with, and he’s way too soft and naive to be a killer. Desten 4 and Desten 6 are missing. Desten 5 is young and frustrated, but I can’t figure out any connection to Fylen. I haven’t tracked down Desten 7, because he lives in a different city, and Desten 8 is a woman. Then there’s Desten Metako - Fylen’s mysteriously unmentioned brother-in-law. And Desten Utrenad and two Desten Oros who I haven’t met yet.”

Pel laughed, without much humor. “I apologize for doubting you. I see you’re taking this very seriously. What do you mean when you say Desten 4 and 6 are missing?”

“Four, I’m not sure. Something happened with his family, they talk about him in the past tense, and there is obviously something painful there. I don’t know them well enough to feel comfortable interrogating them about him too much, but it is something I’ll have to do sooner or later. Unless I get lucky and one of the others is obviously the one.

“Six, I’ve heard he’s a charismatic no-good, apparently a staple on the circuit, but hasn’t shown up yet and stopped answering letters a few months before Fylen’s death. All I know personally is that his home was dark and empty every time I showed up to try and talk to him.”

Pel nodded. “So you’ve absolutely ruled out 2 and 8, tentatively ruled out 3, and haven’t met most of the others?”

“Yes. I’m using this touring season as a chance to track down the ones in other territories, then I’ll go back to Varon and see about 4, 6, and 7. I was hoping to find out more about Desten Metako while I’m here, since the personal connection seems the strongest there, but if you haven’t even heard of him …”

“And what if you investigate all of them, and it turns out to be just a tiff over something minor, and Desten had nothing to do with it?”

“He did. I’m sure of it.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Just, ask around. Carefully. Quietly. We don’t want Desten to realize we’re onto him. At least, this way, if something happens to either of us, the information won’t be lost. Find out if anyone you know, or anyone Fylen knows had any sort of connection to any of the Destens. It’s probably safest if we investigate individually, and only convene once we know something for sure.”

Pel nodded slowly. “Agreed. But keep me updated on your progress. If you do end up stumbling upon the right one, and he kills you before you can report back, I’d have to duplicate your progress anyway. If I don’t hear from you for over a week, I’ll assume the worst.”

“I don’t know that I could afford the trip back, I’m technically moneyless and living on the good graces of Desten 3 at present.”

Pel frowned slightly. “But you’re a Varon.”

“Um. Yes …”

“Do you not trust the messenger service?”

“Oh. I … uh didn’t know about it. I had a non-traditional upbringing.”

“Is that also why you’re still only tay at your age? I haven’t seen anyone older than ten still in tay colours for a long time.”

“Yes.”

“You know, I could help you there. I’m one of the best rated Sarosa duelists. If you don’t think it’s too much of a risk to be seen together, I’m sure we could get you up to soe at least, maybe ebi if you’re willing to take it seriously.”

“Thank you for the offer, but—” I began, then stopped. There was actually a very good chance that Desten wouldn’t come quietly. And if he found out about me, being able to do more than run away might be essential to my survival. I may as well use this power, as long as I’d be stuck with it for the rest of my life. “You know what, yes please.”

“What’s your circuit schedule?”

“I don’t know. Varon, then Sarosa.”

“Varon was the gala host, practically everyone started there this year. But reverse headed off to Teshron and I believe abridged is in Wightok right now. So either verdis or rotation. Rotation goes to Leetan next, while verdis heads down to Utrenad.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know where we’re going next.”

“How long are you in Sarosa? The full week, or are you leaving after the last event?”

I shrugged. “Desten planned our itinerary, I’m just along to investigate Destens and provide a foil for his idiotic ideas about world peace.” I remembered something else and shook my head. “And, apparently, keep him company on his first trip away from home.”

Pel raised his eyebrows. “Yes. I can see why you’d rule him out as a suspect.”