“Butchers!” Idsel barked as he threw the axe. It struck the tree.

Their visitors long gone, they spent most of the day in tense silence. This was the first time Idsel was able to speak. The response was less than favorable.

“It is not something I expect you to understand,” Nala said.

“I do not have to understand it,” Idsel said, retrieving the axe. “To understand it would mean that it is not nonsense. And it is nonsense.”

Nala folded her arms, looking more like an Earther than a Summoner when she said, “The queen has promised peace. There’s no danger if more Summoners seek out a higher stage.”

“To what end?” Idsel asked. “To cower away within structures to hide from the day? Then cower away in structures to hide from the night? It is nonsense.”

“We should at least see it before we judge,” Nala insisted.

“You judge,” Idsel said. “Today I will take the babes to swim and catch water birds.”

Nala lowered her arms. “I can keep Crane here.”

“Why?”

“With his tail so...so short, don’t you think it best? Maybe he cannot swim so well. It’s dangerous with you alone and two of them if he starts to drown. And it’s too bad if he stays out of the water. Maybe he’ll get discouraged at seeing Boon have fun without him.”

Idsel cocked his head to the right, puzzling about her meaning.

“No, he will come as well,” Idsel said finally. “And of course, he can swim. Do not tell him what he cannot do before he’s even attempted it. That is your folly, not his.”

Nala quieted, and although Idsel knew the Summoner meant well, he couldn’t find it in him to apologize for being so harsh. The pensive look Nala gave him was enough; he’d made his point.

The next day Nala set off alone. Idsel watched her disappear down the slope, worrying for her. He seldom feared for Nala. Until yesterday, until the moment he heard that no tail meant no ability to adhere to the cycle, he hadn’t fretted.

All this time he’d thought Nala stubbornly held onto that stage. It occurred to him that Nala simply didn’t know how to change them at will, but never that she couldn’t at all; that if she was near death, she couldn’t change even to save herself.

There was no rejuvenation if she were injured. This meant she only had the one lifecycle. Knowing there was only one cycle changed Idsel’s viewpoint.

The boys were terrors until they reached the riverbed. Getting Boon to step in was a daunting chore. Usually, Nala could convince him to come in and bathe but Idsel wasn’t as fortunate.

He taught Crane for some time before Boon agreed to try and enter the water.

Crane took to the water without trouble. Boon clung to his father’s throat until they were back on solid land yet again.

As they walked home Boon cried. He cried again after they ate. And before sleeping, when he realized Nala was late, he wept as well. At one time, Idsel hated it, but today he didn’t mind. Boon couldn’t swim because he feared the water, and Boon could barely sleep because he feared Nala wouldn’t return. In a way, Idsel had trouble sleeping for the same worry.

Idsel’s body filled with so much dread that he feared he’d shift through the cycles against his will. Half of him didn’t care because he knew if something happened to Nala that he’d long for his first stage so that he could find those idiot Summoners and rip them limb from limb.

The other half of him just longed to know Nala was safe.

In the dead of night when the door finally swung open, Idsel shot to his feet.

He nearly mistook the Summoner before him for one of the others. Dressed in dark trousers and a white shirt, Nala closed the door and leaned her body back against it.

The deep frown she wore put Idsel on edge.

“You were gone so long I began to fret.”

Unable to speak for some time, Nala finally said, “Today is the first time I feel whole. Today is the first time I feel at peace. An entire sea of Summoners with no tails and each one more brilliant than the last. And it was a sight.”

Despite her words, her expression spoke of woe. Today was also the first time they were alone together at night but did not embrace. Idsel was too fearful to try. Instead, he listened to Nala’s stories of her day. He heard of the small village which Idsel considered too open to stave off animal attacks or otherwise. He heard of the Earther weapons that shoot light which they used to kill larger night predators though they seldom ate the meat because they hadn’t mastered cooking it yet. He heard of the separation of tasks based on ranking, and how women were split into clutches much like that of Levelers. As Levelers and Summoners were kin, Idsel imagined the function of the clutches were similar. When Nala explained that some spent time making more fabric by hand, others cared for the young, and a larger amount provided physical comfort to most of the males in need of releasing their seed, Idsel held his peace.

He was too horrified.

The structure seemed unbalanced. The community seemed unbalanced. As Nala set off again the next day, an Earther book under her arm, Idsel and his two sons watched her until she disappeared into the woods.

Crane asked, “Where Aza go?”

Idsel shook his head. “I do not know. But we are going somewhere challenging.”

“Challenging?” Crane asked.

“Your Aza’s ways are clashing with ours. That is the challenge and I do not know which way is right.”

Boon looked up at him. “Challenging bad?”

Letting out a sigh, Idsel patted his head. “Everything for you appears bad. A challenge is different. It is fine until it causes pain. Let’s hope it only remains different.”

It took most of the day to find an ino nest. As inos had few young, Idsel resolved to take one egg from the four. It was so large that it reminded him of the babes’ first chrysalis. He found another nest to take yet another.

When he returned to his sons holding the new eggs, he noticed the color difference of them both.

Crane’s egg was bigger in comparison.

Boon said, “I want it.”

This was one of the few times Crane didn’t readily hand over whatever Boon requested.

“No, I like it.”

And then Boon began to cry. Idsel had heard that water came from an Earther’s eyes when one cried. For Levelers—for Boon—he only made an awful sound as his skin grew dryer from his upset.

Crane held on to his egg until they reached the farm yet again. By then Boon planted his feet in the dirt and refused to return home without the egg of his choosing.

After looking between the eggs he himself carried and the one in Idsel’s hands, Crane handed his over to Boon and reached for the other one.

Idsel crouched down to meet him. “Are you certain?”

Crane nodded, “Yes. He can have it. This one’s blue like Aza.”

Nala came and went out each morning, and Idsel tried to tend to the farm with the boys.

Crane’s egg hatched first, leaving Boon to poke at his own in disdain.

The verbosity of the ino that came out suited Crane well.

“A female. That’s why it was smaller.” Idsel was less than pleased with this discovery. “They are hard to ride. We can look for another one.”

“No!” Crane said. “This one suits me best. It’s got power and a mean temperament. Just like Aza!”

Idsel smiled at the comparison. Everything was like Aza, Crane’s favorite parent. Sometimes, Idsel wished Aza—Nala would remain a bit longer with their growing family, as they missed her.

A few days later when Boon’s finally broke free, a lumbering easy temperament male, Idsel had to laugh.

Crane’s ino’s feathers were quick to dry and in no time, he was chasing her around the barn. Boons took longer to do all things.

So the day when Boon announced that he wanted a trade, Idsel was less than pleased.

“You already have one and it’s rather large,” Crane insisted.

Boon stared up at him, his body trembling from his anger. “I want that one. I want the girl!”

“But you cannot have it,” Idsel said.

Stomping and wailing, Boon voiced his fury. It was the first and only time Idsel grabbed him and clapped him in the back.

As soon as he quieted, Idsel regretted his action.

Boon only watched him for some time before lumbering to the stone wall where he sat staring down the way.

“He misses Aza,” Crane said, looking up at Idsel. “When is she coming back?”

Idsel had no answer. He was more concerned with Boon and the poor, neglected ino at their feet. Boon didn’t care for his large ino as well as Crane nurtured his. Crane was quick to give his water, Boon often forgot. Crane cleaned up all messes, Boon ignored them until Crane or Idsel had to. When Idsel grew fed up with the laziness, Boon’s ino’s pen grew surprisingly clean. Idsel didn’t want to confirm his suspicions that Crane was tidying it on Boon’s behalf to keep Idsel from anger. It was a noble endeavor, but not one that would do Boon much good.

His yapping ino in hand, Crane sat down next to his brother and handed the creature over.

They agreed to share it. Idsel wanted to protest, to remind them that as they grew bigger both could not ride the one animal. Sharing it seemed to suit the brothers just fine; they were agreeable. Boon even stopped crying for his Aza at night fall, exhausted from playing with the inos and Crane during the day. As time past, an unfortunate thing occurred; they stopped caring for the other larger ino altogether. The morning Idsel awoke to find the thing dead, was the first time he’d struck Crane as well.

“It doesn’t matter whose fault it is!” Idsel said. “You do not abandon one creature to death in favor of another.”

That was one of the few days the barn was quiet as well; both boys too ashamed and heartbroken to talk.

It was also the day Nala returned early, took off her Earther clothes, and threw them onto the floor.

Idsel, quite exhausted from caring for his sons, meant to inquire what the matter was, but sleep took him before he could.

When he awoke later that night to find Nala gone, he stepped out of the barn and searched the dark for her.

He found her sitting in their usual mating clearing, though she did nothing to indicate that she cared about mating at that very moment.

No sooner had Idsel sat down beside her that Nala said, “I think I did something wrong.”

Idsel nodded. “Will you tell me what that thing is?”

It took some time for Nala to reply. “I was learning my numbers, to perhaps work at the store. Molin ran in and asked to hide. He didn’t want to get his tail cut after all. He reminded me of Boon with the way he behaved; so cowardly, whimpering and crying like a sloth pup. When they came for him, I told them where he was.”

Head hung, Idsel muttered, “I’m sure that is not all of it.”

“It took five Summoners to hold him down. They tied him in the middle of the street. They...they asked for proof of my loyalty and I...I made the cut.”

Idsel’s body stiffened. When he sat up to his full height, he took a deep breath with it. This was no joke but he longed to hear Nala say that it was.

The moon shined over them, but there was no sound, no chuckle to show this was a bad jest.

Idsel mustered up enough courage to look Nala in the eye. What he found was a heavy frown so grim Nala didn’t seem able to speak.

They waited—Idsel waited. Nala should say something. She should explain her actions. She should have found something to say to justify such cruelty.

Finally, Idsel stood. He walked away without looking back.