“I know where he was. I don’t mind telling you what he was up to,” Kywen says, and she senses a sharp pang of caution through the tether. She takes a deep breath before continuing.

“It is true that he’d been far from where we set up the Watcher’s private accomodations, but the Heir only happened to stroll by in the middle of an incident as he was coming back from selecting, what was it? Fabric for his mother’s scarf, I think. A new runner boy had just finished stocking the storeroom and gotten himself turned around between the bathing lodge and the stables. The boy became distraught, worried his keeper would blame him for lost wages from the delay in deliveries,” she says and shrugs, “It’s the mirrors, of course. The reflection makes one of the connecting tunnels easy to mix up, confusing the spirits out of you if you’re not paying attention, but mama loves to appropriate northern trends.

“Anyway, he was passing by as the boy started sobbing. He joined me in consoling the child, and we were soon able to walk him back to the main doors, but not before the Heir got him to tell us about his day as a distraction. If you want some leads, I’d start with the guards the poor boy told us leaned on him for some fire-rum, right in the middle of their rounds, no less. I wouldn’t be surprised to find the potential for some sort of infiltration coming from the type of men willing to discard proper guidelines and standards, and all in the middle of a historic Collaboration.”

The man called Idra beams at her, considering her story as he leans lightly against the greenhouse's foggy glass panel.

Kywen glances at the Heir and savors the look on his face as it dawns on him just how long she’d been watching him. She sits back down while plastering a pleasant smile on her own, but her eyes flit back to the older man, and she hopes Jorrel wipes the guilt shadowing his face before he gets himself back under Idra's radar. She is confident her tale is enough to get him off the hook with his father's Jinya and back to negotiating with her.

Now that this Collaboration had turned into more than just the surprising behavior of the future protector of Hindari and his curious possession of the Starfall Anklet, she wasn’t going to let her chance to be smack dab in the middle of real action pass her by. She remembers the pouch containing the anklet bears the official seal of the Watcher’s Enclave: a single eye cradled in the talon of a crow. She digs it out from the pocket she had stuffed it in.

“See?” she says, displaying the elegantly-stitched pouch with its regal insignia. “The Heir, uh, Jorrel gave it to the boy, but I traded the kid a thicker jute sack in exchange for the finer material so I could use it in my sewing.”

Idra takes the pouch and examines it. Satisfied, he hands it back to her.

Jorrel continues inching a few steps away from Idra and closer to the doors. “She’s all but covered it, I suppose. After everything was taken care of, I asked her to show me to the stables. I had heard Kywen’s father successfully bred a dappled mare with a red-hooved battle stallion and the resulting twins both survived. I had to see it for myself.”

“Indeed,” Idra says. “Rare and comforting to be blessed with such happy endings.”

Kywen struggles to settle her impression of Idra as she considers the disconnect between the men, the contrast of the Jinya’s leisurely stance and Jorrel’s stiff posture only adding to her confusion. She can’t tell if Jorrel is playfully prickling at the man’s affection or if he truly is bothered by it, but Idra sounds cheerful enough to have accepted her cover story, and she wonders if she can nudge the stream of information to flow both ways.

“Do you know what happened to the Collaboration guards?” she asks. “While slipping in and out of that frantic swarm of bodies, I kept looking for any of the Clans Celus, but I couldn’t spot a single one. I saw only a handful of my people trying to help carry or move the wounded who were trampled, but I’m guessing the Celus were handling the criminals responsible for the blasts themselves.”

Idra looks her over slowly. “One could easily think the explosions racked up a significant death toll, yet by my own eyes, there weren’t but a handful of burns being tended to before I was sent to look for you. By now, little indicates those explosions were meant for anything other than a distracting stampede. Which makes sense knowing the entirety of the Clans Celus had dashed off to a secluded area behind the path leading to the falls just moments after your startlingly unique display of Elemental prowess,” he pauses, giving Kywen an approving look, “due to some sort of message I did not have the privilege to receive.

“Strangely enough, a very small handful of Celus members missed this secret communication for reasons currently unclear. You three should thank the spirits, as Onatha Rodejo and Vely Aniell are among the four members of Hindar’s fully-sanctioned Clans Celus left alive, well, aside from that newly formed clan of eight, unreachable within the depths of the Savtarra Jungle and greener than the foliage crowding around us. The rest were incinerated fifty-two minutes ago, thirty yards from Enclave Kostis's double-reinforced gates.”

He looks over each of the young trio slowly, as if waiting for something important to catch his eye, but Kywen can barely comprehend what he is saying, and she doesn’t need the tether to know Sundeera is as shocked as she is. Jorrel tries to speak, but nothing comes out.

Idra remains ambivalent and continues through their silence.

“At the last minute, Onatha and Vely had taken over escorting the clan’s Ikunas, those restricted from duty for failing their compulsory reviews, through each arena to discover the source of their channeling blockages, and they were the only Celus occupying the very same stands Jorrel happened to watch your performance from, Kywen.” Though he is speaking to her, he watches Jorrel.

“And your mother didn’t need your men,” he says, dark eyes shining in the moonlight when he finally looks back at her, “she managed to shield not only the bulk of your territory’s guardsmen from being crushed under the structures that fell, but also a large number of visiting Collaboration families. I’m told roots thick as tree trunks shot up and around everyone into some sort of dome in the blink of an eye, and as such, the dead remain restricted to the Celus.”

Kywen feels the gut punch of fear and chest-cracking relief all at once upon hearing that her family and friends survived such a close brush with death. She uses every ounce of her will not to immediately turn to Sundeera in panic while getting blindsided by the idea that Idra knows nearly every word they’ve said has been spun from whole cloth. She tries to smother the paranoia sprouting in her belly as her emotions begin to slide sideways.

Noticing the casual way he relaxes against the glass yet still maintains the intensity of a tightly coiled spring makes her feel both insecure and intrigued, and she wonders whether there is some kind of nut to crack within this rigidly flexible man, but she catches herself from being swept away by the intrusive thoughts. She concentrates on figuring out a way to secure an official spot within the Watcher’s inner circle. Now that the celebration’s grim turn of events is adding up to deadlier consequences than she first considered, the fact that someone chose her home to make their move is like a flame to kindling, and her anger swells to an inferno that dwarfs the fear that’d been flickering within her heart. The resulting outrage lasers her focus into a tight beam that she follows like a beacon in the dark.

“I appreciate your being so blunt, Jinya. It’s good Jorrel already mentioned that he intends to choose me for his first Collaboration selection because I find that detail to stand out as sorely as you do. Apologies if you are already aware, but Sundeera and I are nexum, and we are the only pair bidding. Gaining both of us doubles the kind of valuable assets needed to deal with whoever is trying to threaten the peace our people have worked so hard to maintain. I hadn’t been sure if I was going to accept since I’ve never lived beyond southern Hindar,” Kywen says and she inhales the damp air slowly through her nostrils to keep herself calm, “but how can I say no now?” She looks over at Jorrel with her most open and honest smile only to find his eyes as sharp as daggers.

“I’m not surprised Yamma was strong enough to pull that off, right Ky?” Sundeera chimes in.

Kywen nods in response and understanding; roots take time and precision, not strength, and only Yamma had the irritating habit of calling her Ky.

Idra spreads his arms out and smiles at each of them in turn. “It seems I have gotten all I need. You kids clearly have nothing to do with what’s going on, but if either of you happen to remember anything useful, Jorrel knows exactly how to reach me,” he says and takes three quick steps, extending his arm out for Jorrel to clasp at the elbow.

Kywen marvels over how awkward the two are together, but as hard as it is to tear her eyes away, she finally feels safe enough to glance at Sundeera, who winks in assurance after a brief, wordless exchange, their emotions communicating clearly enough. They look back in time to watch Jorrel reach out gracefully, and though his arms are longer, he embraces Idra smoothly, and for the first time, the older man looks off balance.

She worries whatever odd sibling-like rivalry they share may have irritated Jorrel enough to threaten her gamble, but she soothes herself knowing she still has the upper hand, gently patting his gems as they rest safely in her pocket.