Kywen’s mind buzzes as she darts through the tunnels at lightning speed. She knows he wouldn’t have been so careless with this ancient trinket had he known what it is, and the anklet feels like it's burning a hole in her sari. She weighs her options, suddenly numerous and all of them enticing, debating between the novelty of bidding the Wiovan, the sheer thrill of bribing the Heir Watcher for a contract, and the obvious choice of bidding any of the northern Flora clans close to Salar as Sundeera advised.

She wants to run through them with Sundeera, but she won’t be able to speak with her until after she performs her Collaboration bid. Because she and Sundeera are nexum, Sundeera cannot participate in the Collaboration. Their bonding allows them to travel anywhere together, requiring only one girl to bid for a contract. The only exceptions barring nexum privileges involve organizations that require individual achievement testing, like the Wiovan and the Inaru. If she had more time, she could reach her nexum through the vast underground network of mycelium that functions invisibly beneath all of Hindar, but it's not the fastest method of communication, and she'll need every remaining minute to make it to the bidder’s tent before the ceremony starts.

She feels an electric shiver jolt down her spine as her thoughts drift to the day they were bonded. She had snuck off to explore and ended up eavesdropping on a group of cloudy-eyed Ascension Channelers. They stood too far away for her to hear their conversation had she not discovered the way mushrooms and other fungi were always listening in their own way, and as luck would have it, the old crones were huddled near a tiny clump of mushrooms sprouting from one of the fissues that webbed throughout the caves. Kywen tapped into the the fungi's senses, and though the women's clipped speech could be hard to decipher when they whispered, the word "ritual" was clear enough to snare her attention.

“There have been enough perversions of the ritual! Soul-bonding an orphan from the sea? The girl has no roots,” one said.

“A dangerous situation, yes, but notice even stranger the shadows that are present,” responded another Channeler, this one wearing a soft blue kaftan, lovingly embellished with fine silver scrollwork.

A younger Ascension member walked through the temple lighting candles and incense with a flame he conjured from his fingertips, though he wore not a single talisman or trinket. His belted red kaftan was smudged with thick streaks of black and grey, but the material was sheer and left no question about his lack of jewelry. The room slowly filled with an orange haze, and her vision blurred as the dense cloud of fragrant smoke became intoxicating.

Kywen skids to a halt, seconds from crashing into an awkwardly placed spirit stand set up just a few paces around a blind corner, and she has to grab onto the counter’s uneven wood to steady herself. A little boy with a head full of tightly coiled, z-shaped curls smiles as Kywen takes a deep breath and adjusts her sari.

“Would you like to donate for a blessing from the spirit Nadaa?” he says loudly.

Kywen can’t bring herself to turn the child down, so she fishes a handful of coins from her pouch and plops them in front of him.

His eyes go wide. “This is enough for an eternal blessing. Are you sure you choose the correct coins, laki?”

“Don’t call me laki,” Kywen says, “You’ve never seen a trickster spirit to name one. Of course I want the best blessing she has to offer, tell your spirit to help me stand out when they call my name tonight, eh?”

“Oh she is our spirit now, mala. She is a funny one too,” the boy says before giggling loudly.

“You have a name?”

“They call me Mar,” he says, scooping the coins into a small velvet box.

“I’d love to stay and chat, Mar, but the booming of the kong are going to sound any minute. I think it might kill my mother if I make yet another dreadful scene during an important event.”

Kywen turns to dash away, but he grabs her hand with lightning reflexes and says, “Wait, you must seal the pledge with a binding. It is simple but important. Just read the inscription on the box aloud.”

Kywen huffs, grabs the box, and instantly forms a binding. She mumbles the words quickly and releases the connection, sliding the box back to the boy. Without thinking, she locates the two raspberry cream tarts and offers them to Mar, who takes them almost reverently.

“For me?”

“Why not?” Kywen says with a shrug before taking off into an all out sprint.

“Good luck,” Mar shouts, “Nadaa says to stay on your toes and keep your eye out for the Owl's Shadow!”

Kywen rolls her eyes at the idea as she pours on the speed. The Shadow-Owl was the first myth and the easiest to expose as fraudulent, uncovered as a dead-end by the most hated man in all of Hindari, the traitor Cade Leander. She smiles every time she thinks of how the Clans Celus lured him out into the open, days after he unleashed his uniquely terrifying Shade magic upon a defenseless village of Flora adepts, incinerating everything and everyone in seconds. They cornered him like the rat he was, ending his short-lived reign of terror before he could take any more lives, but not before his evil taint left the only black mark on Hindar's five-hundred-season span of peace. It was fitting that the man most skilled at sending others to the Unknown Realm left behind only a finger and one sliver of an ear upon his own death.

Out of breath and with seconds to spare, Kywen slows down as she approaches a flower-adorned arch, the gnarled juniper wood twisting into an enormous and hauntingly beautiful entrace to this season's Collaboration. She jogs through, heading for the nearly empty row of parlor tents to sneak onto the bidding platform from the back. Her hand dips into a pocket, and she pops a truffle into her mouth while rounding the final corner. The bustle and hum of a large crowd increases with every step, and she can hear the soft music of the khène, a simple mouth organ constructed of connected bamboo pipes. The notes floating through the air are slow and soothing, which means that Aric and Cira are more than halfway through the final song before the Naming Ceremony.

The twins are well-known throughout Hindar for their skill with the khène and their complicated compositions, admired for the way they transition so smoothly from notes soft as ethereal breezes whispering through swaying reeds to an upbeat run that brings the audience to a heart-pounding crescendo.

Kywen ducks under a curtain and trails the inner edge, finding her place just as the twins finish playing and make their way down from the elevated platform.

The platform itself juts out from the side of an enormous rainbow gum tree flaunting phosphorescent mushrooms glowing in rich greens, blues, and purples. They sprout from the tree in whirling patterns, lighting the steps that spiral down to the viewing areas comprised of woven, moss-covered branches shaped likes baskets and filled with cushions. Several sprout from the tree’s massive above-ground roots, surrounding the Crystal arena, and spectators can enjoy the panoramic view while sitting or standing.

Throughout the recently grown structures, twisting vines, green and dotted with bright yellow and orange flowers, add the final touches, releasing pleasantly potent scents that mingle in aromatic ecstasy.

With barely enough time to take in the beauty that surrounds her, the drums begin to pound with enough force to make her teeth vibrate.

Kywen glances at her fellow bidders shifting around or fiddling with their outfits. They range in age from thirteen to sixteen seasons, and she isn’t surprised to feel herself wishing she could trade places with Sundeera more intensely than ever. Before the adventure of scroll-hunting charmed them so thoroughly, they were in constant competition with each other to earn the honor of bidding at the Collaboration, each girl playfully pestering the plants, animals, and the environment itself to strengthen their skills.

At first, Sundeera’s raw strength couldn’t make up for her inability to consistently maintain a binding, considering Kywen could effortlessly use Wild magic to sprout seedlings and communicate through a grove of trees time after time. Sundeera eventually withdrew her claim and urged Kywen to register with the Collaboration the following summer. Seasons later, it became clear that Sundeera had grown into a greater talent for manipulating the flow of magic outside of a single discipline, but it was too late for her to replace Kywen at the Collaboration. The Council had officially assigned Kywen her bidding placement, and there was no turning back.

Sundeera soon mentioned the upcoming opportunity to train under the Path of the Inaru, and the girls spent days imagining their adventures and everything they'd learn together, making it all the more crushing to discover their very first lesson was in falling short. The Inaru required the ability to channel three of the four magic disciplines, and since Kywen was still struggling to find the smallest success with Crystal, Shade, or Wild magic, Sundeera would have to go alone.

Unfortunately, they had already told Yamma and Galen, who loved the idea and immediately sent a letter to the school highlighting the girls' varied talents, and their second lesson sprouted around separation. Kywen spent a full moon cycle pouting over the idea of a half season where her nexum would be gone. She no longer thought back to the time when Sundeera hadn’t been in her life, and she couldn't imagine continuing the search for the scroll without her.

“Six full moons and I’ll be back,” Sundeera said.

“Don’t be surprised if I forget you by the time you come home.”

“You spent ten seasons without me, you’ll survive.”

Kywen tried to remain upset, but when it came to her nexum, her resolve was weaker than Yamma’s moon-tea.

“Yeah, seasons I couldn’t care less about. You know I want you to become as powerful as an Inaru Weaver, but I’ll miss you so much, I think I’ll explode.”

Sundeera laughed loudly, clutching her stomach. “Weaver, huh? I’d be lucky if they let me be an Acolyte. I’m still not immune to dropping my bindings. Look on the bright side, you learning to adjust to sudden changes will help you get ready for wherever we end up after the Collaboration,” she teased. “For now, let’s go find the sour-cherries Yamma’s been hiding from us.”

Kywen grumbled, but her mouth began to water thinking of the small fruit's sweet jelly and juice wrapped in a thin sour skin that makes your lips pucker when you chew it. She dodged past Sundeera and ran off into the halls.

A man’s sonorous voice breaks through Kywen’s reverie, shooting across the arena with the aid of large crystal he wears at his throat.

“At the will of the spirits, another Collaboration begins!”

The crowd cheers and whistles as the Luminaries, dazzling in their embroidered turquoise robes, shoot sparkling plumes of colored smoke into the sky with their crystal wands.

“Tonight marks five-hundred seasons of peace and cooperation since the Treaty of Jaliff, and we may be witnessing the largest pool of bidders in history," he pauses for the applause, "I, Ulric Eiran Vale, welcome every Hindari clan, large and small, to join us for a historic Collaboration, one even for those serious fellows from Clans Celus who must be on orders to refrain from enjoying anything,” he almost sings, playfully pointing at the nearest group of men and women responsible for dealing with the rare law-breakers throughout Hindar.

“It will be one for the Time-scribes and their meticulous record books because tonight we celebrate the second heir to our Watcher of Clans, Jorrel of Enclave Airmala, Clan Elemental. He will be appointing his first royal contract.

“Also of note, the gracious hosts of this special Collaboration prepare to bid farewell to their only child, Kywen of Enclave Kostis, Clan Flora. Please give a round of applause for the marvelous job Yamma and Galen Kostis have accomplished in transforming their sprawling territory into the glowing festivities surrounding you,” he says as he gestures down at the various platforms, areans, and tents shimmering along the pathways. They illuminate the snaking route down the cliffside to the eastern beach in cool, jewel-toned purples, blues, greens, and reds.

Kywen’s cheeks flush as a few of the other bidders turn to look at her. She briefly considers the possibility of Nadaa’s influence until the warmth in her face deepens, and she starts to feel silly. Of course they’re going to mention her name; the Collaboration has always been held in the Capital, and her parents incredible skill with Root magic allowed them to create the living structures that now hold thousands of people eagerly awaiting a show.

No one could say exactly why they decided to move the Collaboration, but she remembers hearing her parents discussing what an honor it would be to host such an event, even though everyone knew there'd be double the amount of children lining the streets in their make-shift spirit stands, taking advantage of gullible northerners and making up spirits to disguise their coin-ruse. They multiply with every event Yamma throws.

She tries to remember something about Nadaa, but her nerves continue to conjure intrusive thoughts that seemingly exist only to perform the single-minded task of preventing any real concentration.

“What if I blank on a simple rooting spell?” they whisper to her.

When she suddenly thinks of how mad Sundeera will be, a spiky pit forms in her belly and pokes at her from inside. She can’t help but think of a tank she once saw filled with dark purple sea urchins, their spines quivering in the water.

Another round of colored smoke rises into the air, this time ending in a burst of sparks that shower down onto the rock pits in the middle of the Crystal arena's platform. Children shriek with joy, clapping as their eyes glitter underneath the small explosions.

“The naming ceremony will soon begin," Ulrich croons, "and to celebrate each and every one of Hindar’s gifted children, please welcome Awani Niam, Guardian of Elements.”

A tall, long-limbed woman walks with purpose across the stage wearing an open-front bright red kaftan dress belted over a bodice of deep red and gold-patterned orange skirts. An enormous red and white beaded necklace drapes across her chest, and a luxurious hooded red cloak billows behind her from the long, smooth strides she takes.

“Thank you Ulric,” she says in her smoky voice as she joins him at the center of the stage. “Another successful season of peace is enough of a reason to celebrate, but there is even more to enjoy about tonight. Let us not waste any time in seeing what these young men and women have to offer as we settle into the invigorating night air...”

Kywen’s attention drifts again as she imagines Jorrel up in the fancy room carved directly into the trunk of the rainbow gum, sitting just to the left of the stage. She pictures his leg bouncing in agitation or even a fit of uncontrollable pacing, certain he must have noticed his missing gems by now.

Refusing to allow a trace of doubt to creep in and wreak havoc upon her confidence, she pulls out the anklet and clasps it above her fur-trimmed sandals with only the slightest tremble to her hands. Enclave Airmala and the Capital sit less than half a day’s ride from Salar.