The world of Myrrah introduced in epic fantasy Born of Water gave us a glimpse into the life of the secretive and powerful race of the Kith. But how they are now isn’t how they’ve always been.

Before the Church of Four Orders came during the War of the Orders, a larger society sprawled through the northern forests. And this society had a few different rules.

Enter the young adult years of Laith Lus, who is destined to become a great leader of the Kith. But first, he has to navigate the branched pathways of choices.

Part 1
A CHOSEN BRIDE

“I thought it was my choice whom I marry.”

Caedhru set his mug on his table with a solid thunk before leveling a weighted glare at Laith Lus. Laith Lus gritted his teeth as he shifted on his feet. He would not back down. Not from this.

“You had eight years to choose, Laith Lus,” Caedhru spoke with a voice as deep as his gaze. “You will marry Esyll at the end of this kaht’zi.”

Laith Lus fought the will of his chief elder emphasized by the piercing stare. Whom he would spend his life of centuries beside was his to decide, not Caedhru’s. But when Laith forced a question through his tight throat, the only word that emerged was, “Why?”

Caedhru smiled as he turned away. “The northern holding is strong. Your marriage will bind Lus na Tadhg closer to us.”
Arguments as numerous as the leaves on his tree flooded Laith’s mind. It wasn’t right. But by Kith law, he was supposed to honor the chief elder of his tribe. The war within him rooted Laith Lus to Caedhru’s floor.

Caedhru glanced at Laith Lus again and sighed. His expression softened as he placed a hand on Laith’s shoulder. “You will be chief elder after me. It is not an easy burden, but you will see the good of our people is more important than—”

“My desires?” The words sent Laith trembling. He clenched his fist to keep control.

Caedhru leaned away as he crossed his arms. “Have you fallen in love with someone then?” Laith shook his head. “Then I do not see why your wishes matter.” Caedhru turned away to pull out the ornamental wood and stone arm and neck bands he liked to wear. “The Tadhg tribe will arrive by noon. You will be there to greet them and welcome Esyll.”

Caedhru’s dismissal left no room for argument. His decision had been made. Anger so strong that branches bent away from him, Laith Lus left Caedhru’s house, seeing nothing but darkness. No thought but the unjustness of the command filled his mind.

“Laith!”

A hand grabbing his shoulder jerked Laith Lus back to the present more clearly than the voice. Laith, blinked, not recognizing the pathway where he stood. He was high in the trees when he preferred the ground and close to the outskirts of Lus na Sithchaine.

Shai Bannan released his arm and stepped back an appropriate distance, though she was too young to choose, so the space wasn’t truly needed. But like him, Shai was destined to be a leader of Sithchaine tribe due to the power that came so naturally to the young woman.

Slight in build, she commanded attention greater than her stature. Blooming flowers grew amid the weave of her dress and through her long bronze hair that fell against her golden skin with a subtle pattern of brown. The air around her appeared brighter than elsewhere. And right now, her sand colored eyes looked at him with sincere concern. Laith Lus blinked himself to full awareness.

“I’ve been calling you,” Shai Bannan said. “I saw you leave Caedhru’s house. You looked…”

“Angry?” Laith said the word through a throat so raw that it felt like he’d been shouting. “I am.”

“Why?”

The question posed by anyone else would have sent him into silence or making an excuse, but not Shi’s gentle word and understanding gaze. She alone knew the complexities woven between growing leadership and duty to the Elders of their tribe.

Laith nodded toward the deeper forest. Together, they scampered off the path and onto wild branches until they found a seat away from houses and people. Alone and with voices muffled by rustling leaves, he told Shai of Caedhru’s decision.

Shai Bannan looked at him with wide eyes when he finished. Her brows scrunched as she opened her mouth to speak, but she glanced away and held her silence for a moment. Finally, she released a deep breath. “What if Esyll doesn’t want to choose you?”

Laith Lus’ sharp exhaled rolled into a laugh. “That would undermine Caedhru’s plan.” Laith shook his head. “I hadn’t thought of that.” He peered at the wise and extremely young woman next to him. “But it isn’t the first thing you thought.” He nudged her with his elbow.

Shai blushed. “No. I thought of how grateful I am that I’m not of age… and that I’m terrified of what he’ll ask of me.”

Laith closed his eyes. “That is all the more reason for me to tell him no. What will he demand next time? Of you or me?”

“Well, at how we are doing, we’ll both be lucky to remain the next chosen leaders.” Shai rose to her feet like she floated upwards. “The Tadhg tribe will arrive soon, and it will take more than luck or running to arrive in the clearing in time.”

“Arriving late enough to make a poor impression might be a great start.” Despite his answer, Laith rose as well and followed Shai to the pathway. Silently, they walked at a fast pace downward. Though Laith thought if it hadn’t been for Shai by his side, he might never have reached the forest floor that he loved. And when he did, he pondered if he should just keep walking.

A crowd filled the oval clearing dominated on the southern end by a great tree that shaded those around it and cast half the clearing in shadow. The path Shai made as she gently pushed her way through the crowd with Laith Lus following in her wake was mimicked on the far side of the clearing as the first arrivals of the Tadhg tribe stepped from the forest.

Laith’s foot touched the wooden surface of the ceremonial platform two breaths before Aaindriu arrived from the opposite edge. Caedhru flashed Laith a hard look before turning to greet the leader of the Tadhg. Forearms were clasped as both the Sithchaine and already arrived Haessu murmured greetings to the last of the dispersed Kith tribes, sounding like a wind stirring through saplings.

The Haessu was a small group, living on the western edge of the forest where the trees grew small as they competed with cold ground and hardy grasslands. Their arrival the day before had been less ceremonious and more the greetings of an extended family returned home. But not for the Tadhg, whose village competed with Lus na Sithchaine in size and strength, even if Lus na Sithchaine was older.

As Bannyl, the female elder of the Sithchaine, greeted her Tadhg counterpart, Fiachra, Laith Lus looked beyond the knot of four leaders to those who, like he and Shai, waited behind. But unlike his tribe, several women and men stood near the leaders of the Tadhg.

Shai Bannan elbowed Laith. “Which is Esyll?”

“I don’t know.” Laith hadn’t seen the young Tadhg woman for almost a decade. This was her first kaht’zi where she was of age to choose a husband. Between time and maturity, Laith could not recall what the chosen female leader-to-be of the Tadhg looked like.

Shai snorted. The unusual sound made Laith smile just as Caedhru turned and gestured to him.

“This is my tey’bahl, Laith Lus,” Caedhru said.

Aaindriu smiled with amusement. “You look well, Laith, the same as last year.”

Laith sighed as he clasped Aaindriu’s arm. Caedhru believed that the rivalry between himself and Aaindriu extended to the members of the two tribes, but Laith did not think so. And he liked Aaindriu who softened his comment with a smile that brightened his dark eyes, though the humor was gone when Aaindriu turned back to Caedhru.

“The kahl’vil of the Tadhg,” Aaindriu said gesturing to the gathering behind him and Fiachra.

Caedhru blinked. “You do not have a chosen tey’bahl?”

“There are many who are powerful and some who are very wise,” Fiachra answered. “Time will determine who takes our places.”
Shai hiccuped. Laith swallowed the laughter bubbling on his lips as Caedhru stared at Aaindriu.

“An interesting change to an old custom,” Bannyl said as she gestured to Shai Bannan. “My tey’bahl. I am confident she will do well in my place. In fact, most likely better.” Shai blushed as she stepped forward to greet Fiachra.

Fiachra took Shai’s hands in hers and held her gaze. “Yes, well not all are so gifted in so many aspects as your tey’bahl. But, the Tadhg are lucky in many of our kahl’vil, especially Esyll.” Fiachra released Shai’s hand before sweeping an arm toward a young woman who stepped forward with the grace of seahawk in flight.

Walnut brown hair fell in long locks to tips that held hints of sunshine. Esyll’s eyes held the same gold flecked warmth while the patterns of her skin shaded from deep brown to golden tan. She was striking in her beauty made more so by the aura of calm power that surrounded her. Laith blinked away his surprise that he didn’t remember this girl now a woman.

“I hear you are learning to be a healer,” Esyll said to Shai. At her nod, Esyll pulled a packet from a pouch at her waist. “These are medicinal plants from far to the north. I brought them for you and the Sithchaine people.”

“Will you show me how to use them?” Shai asked as she gently took the paper bundle.

Esyll’s full lips twitched. “Of course, if you will take the time to show me some of the plants you use?”

“Of course,” Shai’s enthusiasm brightened the glow around her. “If you have the time, considering you are here this month for your first kaht’zi.” Shai spun with a swirl of her dress that dropped petals around her. “Have you met Laith Lus, Esyll?”

Laith didn’t have time to react to the laughter in Shai’s eyes as he turned to greet Esyll, but Shai wasn’t finished with her teasing. “He can guide you through the kaht’zi. He’s been through a dozen and emerged well and unwed.”

Part 2
A Late Arrival

“I cannot court them all,” Laith Lus said, endeavoring to remain serious.

Caedhru took Aaindriu’s declaration of having no chosen replacement as if the leader of the Tadhg had done so purposefully against Caedhru. Laith didn’t care. It released him from an obligation he didn’t want. A marriage that spanned centuries needed to be based on more than an elder’s demand.

Caedhru glared at Laith as if he had conspired with Aaindriu to thwart his plans. “Esyll was Fiachra’s chosen successor a year ago. No matter what Aaindriu says, she will be the next leader of the Tadhg.” Caedhru’s dark eyes bored into Laith. “And you will marry her.”

Too annoyed to argue, Laith left Caedhru’s home. To his surprise, Bannyl met him at the door. She held a finger to her lips and brushed him ahead of her outside.

They walked side by side in the late morning sunlight as it streamed through layers of leaves. Caedhru’s home was not even halfway to the treetops, but its place on the edge of the clearing guaranteed it bright sunshine. Above and below them, the aerial dwellings of Lus na Sithchaine clung to tree trunks or branches like the strange homes of giant birds. And in between on pathways grown of living branches, hundreds of Kith walked and laughed.

Lus na Sithchaine was swollen to beyond full with the unwed and parents of eligible Kith youth who had come for the month-long khat’zi. Once a year, no matter the differences between the leadership of the three tribes, the young adults were given a chance to mingle and fall in love. Or, apparently if unable to fall in love easily, be forcibly paired with someone.

Anger curled Laith’s fingers against his palm. “He has no right.”

Bannyl sighed. “He is the elder of your tribe,” she said sternly. Laith spun to face her, but she stalled him by holding up a hand. “But you are correct; it is not a request he can make of you.” Bannyl glanced toward Caedhru’s house before gesturing Laith onward. She was quiet until the path they walked emptied. “I will speak to him. Until then … get to know Esyll. It will not harm you to spend time with her,” Bannyl finished with a bit of force when Laith meant to speak.

He closed his eyes and nodded as he released the tension from his chest.

“Good. She may very well remain Faichra’s chosen successor. It will be good if you know each other when you both lead your tribes.” Bannyl squeezed his shoulder before retracing her steps to return to Caedhru’s home.

Laith did not like Bannyl’s promise instead of absolution from needing to follow Caedhru’s decree. But it was something. She’d admitted it was wrong. And it wasn’t Esyll’s fault. She was young, thrown into her first khat’zi, and didn’t deserve the anger he hurled toward Caedhru.

Telling himself he went to find Esyll by his choice and not at the direction of either of the Sithchaine tribe’s elders, he headed toward the clearing to locate her.

At the edge of the grassy central clearing, Shai Bannan walked beside Esyll, a handful of flowers and leaves in her hands. “So you haven’t studied much herb lore?” Shai asked.

Esyll shook her head. “It is of interest though, if I am to be potentially an elder.” Her voice trailed off.

Shai bit her lip instead of responding. A brightening smile followed a flash of relief on her face as her gaze settled on Laith. “I should go. The khat’zi is really for those old enough to choose, and I have nearly half a decade until I am of age.”

Esyll snagged Shai’s shirt sleeve but just as quickly let her go. “But you will show me more? Later?”

Shai was already a step away and took another backward. “Of course, you are here a month. Though the khat’zi will keep you occupied.” Shai grinned as she raced by Laith, looking far younger than her age of fifty. He at once envied her youth and was grateful for the experience he had. He remembered his first khat’zi, knowing he was of age and expected to fall in love and wed. It had been a long month.

“It is good to know how to heal and help your tribe,” Laith said as he joined Esyll.

She blushed, glancing away. She stared at the grass for a moment before lifting her gold-flecked gaze. “I should have started learning years ago. But…” Esyll shrugged. “I didn’t realize I would need to compete to be Fiachra’s chosen tey’bahl.”

“The decree is new?” Laith asked as he sorted through Esyll’s words.

“Five months ago.” Esyll walked alongside Laith as he headed away from Caedhru’s dominating tree and Aaindriu’s equally intense presence near its base. “It changed my life like a storm toppling a tree. I had been Faichra’s tey’bahl for over a decade. Now I am one of five for something that I had thought was mine.”

Laith Lus tried to imagine what it would be like to be told Caedhru considered another successor. It sent a flush of wished for relief through him. Laith blushed at the rush of unexpected emotion and had to swallow before speaking again. “Do you know why?”

To Laith Lus’ surprise, Esyll blushed scarlet. Her embarrassment caused him to chuckle, which made her cheeks ruddier. “It isn’t something you did?”

“No!” Esyll gasped, eyes wide. She glanced around them before stepping closer to Laith to speak in nearly a whisper. “It was Maitiu, Aaindriu’s former tey’bahl. He …” Her cheeks, which Laith didn’t think could grow any redder, stained to nearly the color of fresh blood. “He … chose a … wife outside of the khat’zi.”

“Oh.” Laith Lus said still amused, then what Esyll didn’t say sank in. His jaw loosened and mouth gaped.

“Exactly,” Esyll said as she stepped away, though her close presence left the smell of flowers behind her. She glanced across the clearing toward the elder of her people. “Aaindriu said that good judgment was just as important as power and gathered all of those who harbored potential for consideration.”

Laith was silent a moment as they walked toward the forest beyond the edge of the clearing. “When will the tey’bahl be chosen?” he finally asked.

Esyll exhaled an annoyed sigh. “Before one of them dies, I hope.”

She stopped just before crossing into the shadows of the forest to stare at a tree that stood inward from the line of trees by a space. Laith Lus swallowed nervously as Esyll looked from a tree that was still young enough that he could put his arms around it to one to the right of where they stood. That one was older, lush and already thick enough due to the sunlight and placement that Laith could not touch his hands around its girth.

“The younger tree is Shai Bannan’s so this one is yours?”

Laith nodded at Esyll’s words, unable to speak as he felt heat stain his cheeks much as color had touched Esyll’s a moment before.

She shook her head. “Bold, isn’t it? To have your tree right in the clearing?”

“Risky,” Laith answered with a hoarse voice. He cleared his throat. “It was moved here when I was chosen as Caedhru’s tey’bahl.”

Laith looked away from Esyll’s shocked gaze and found his eyes drifting over the tree as he searched automatically for signs of weakness in the branches or discolored leaves. To his relief, he saw nothing and released the tension in his chest with a slow exhale.

“You could have…”

“Died?” he asked when Esyll’s words tapered off. “I know. I was sick for months until the roots regrew. Caedhru said if I was strong enough to be tey’bahl, my tree and I was strong enough to survive.”

“That is horrid,” Esyll whispered. “I think I prefer competing to be tey’bahl to that. How old were you?”

“Fourteen. A child.” Laith waved away the decades as if they did not still cause him pain and nightmares. “I almost think it wasn’t a test of my strength but a showcase of Ceadhru’s that he could move trees and they would survive.”

Laith had never admitted that aloud before. He had been young when he’d first thought it. When Shai’s tree had been moved a decade after his, Laith had snuck to it every night to use whatever power he possessed to help it heal and grow. Shai had been far less sick than he, but still ill and for far too long. Trees did not heal quickly, even with two elders, Shai’s parents, and a young Kith boy tending to them.

Esyll and Laith walked through the forest. Hours passed in Esyll’s company without Laith realizing it. He meant just to fulfill a duty as the tey’bahl of his tribe to introduce a new arrival to Lus na Sithchaine, but the time became something more as he introduced Esyll to Lus na Sithchaine.

“This was the home of all Kith?” Esyll asked with wide eyes fixated on the lofty trees that soared into the sky overhead as if they competed with the clouds.

“Yes,” Laith said with a laugh. “There are old ruins of standing stones in the forest to the north, but they are closer to Lus na Sithchaine than the Tadhg tribe.” He watched as she turned and her gauzy overdress spun around her like a cloud of butterflies.

“Aren’t the trees near Tadhg as big?”

“No.” Esyll stopped and met his eyes. “I think they are half the height. Haven’t you been to Lus na Tadhg?”
Laith shook his head. “No. I’ve never left Lus na Sithchaine. Caedhru would not allow it of his tey’bahl.”

“I guess I am lucky that the khat’zi is always here.” Esyll smiled. “Though I wonder what the Haessu tribe is like. I hear there trees are mere shrubs.”

Laith Lus shrugged, but the comment made him uncomfortable. “They grow as long as ours. That is the most important thing.”

Esyll lifted a brow, leaving Laith with the impression she did not agree but would not argue. That had been the afternoon with Esyll; fascination mixed with a desire to ease her way that seemed troubled, and frustration with a callousness that suffused her actions. He just didn’t know her well enough to know if it was a genuine feeling or a reaction to the struggle she found herself in.

Aaindriu’s recension of her status spun the young woman so that she didn’t know herself. Laith could see that and understand. As much as he disliked Caedhru’s oversight, he was accustomed to his place. To have it nullified tomorrow and told he was to listen to another when he thought he would someday lead pricked at his skin as well as a sense of place. An afternoon with Esyll had taught Laith that he cared more about his future role with the Sithchaine tribe of Kith than he’d realized. He swore to talk to Bannyl to ask if she had convinced Caedhru that his bride should be his choice. He didn’t wish to risk Caedhru’s ire.

“Come,” he said holding a hand to Esyll. She glanced at him shyly. “It is time for the first day ceremonies.”

Her smile held a sunbeam of delight. “And then dinner and dancing.” She laughed as she took his hand and raced by him, dragging him along in her wake as she hurried toward the central clearing from where they’d wondered among tall ferns and enormous trees.

They arrived side by side and more than a bit breathless just as the six elders gathered on the platform beneath Caedhru’s magnificent tree. Caedhru smiled when he caught sight of Laith and Esyll hand in hand. Aaindriu’s gaze was thoughtful until he nudged Fiachra and leaned forward to whisper in her ear.

The attention sent his way added heat to Laith’s cheeks where were already warm from the run. He released Esyll’s hand as she turned to speak to a friend. Today was the first day of khat’zi, and such small things as holding hands would lead to expectations far different than he intended.

As Caedhru began the opening ceremony of expectations and hopes, Laith took a long breath to steady himself, not just for the moment but the tense month ahead. As much as he hoped to marry, he had yet to fall in love, and he had centuries still to live. He would choose in his time, not in Caedhru’s.

Commotion on the far side of the clearing disrupted his meditation. The unwed Kith standing in the clearing jostled to make way for someone as much as to see who arrived. When the rustle of questions died under the hard stare of six elders, Laith Lus finally had a glance at who had come. He stared.

A young woman stood defiant as much as amused in the space that quickly cleared around her. Unlike any woman there, her dress was hemmed short to swipe her calves. Even more revealing was the twin slits that broke the fabric to her waist belt and revealed the dark weave of soft woven pants like a man’s. She wore high leather boots, not woven bark, and Laith thought he saw the glint of metal on her belt.

“Who?” he asked Rriveag who stood next to him.

“Niyol,” Yrrah, the woman leader of the Haessu, said with a deep sigh.

“I promised you I would come,” Niyol said matter of factly as she planted the wooden stave in her hand into the ground next to her.

“You are late,” Aaindriu said with a frown as he glanced at Fiachra next to him. Her mouth gaped as she stared at the young Kith woman.

“Only a few minutes,” Niyol answered. “I heard the speeches through the trees.” She waved her hand as if asking the elders to continue. Laith choked. Unwillingly, he also smiled.

“You look too old for this to be your first khat’zi,” Caedhru said slowly. Bannyl elbowed him, but Niyol laughed as she crossed her arms.

“I’ve had other things to do during the last… six or so.”

Yrrah squeezed her eyes closed. Her counterpart, Tuama, stepped forward. “You have arrived, as promised. Welcome to your first khat’zi, Niyol.” Tuama turned to the other four Elders. “Please, let us continue.”

Caedhru cast the young woman an annoyed glance and began his speech again. Niyol sighed and leaned on her stave.

Part 3
New Paths

“You were where?” Rriveag asked, disbelief rising his voice a note.

Niyol’s smile was amused as much as pert. Light danced in her dark eyes, giving them a deep blue cast. She brushed the ponytail of her dark brown hair off her shoulder. In the light, her hair held golden strands mixed with black. Against her darkly patterned skin, and the deep burgundy of her dress turned long tunic, she made a striking figure amid the typically lighter and more subdued Kith.

“The archipelago,” Niyol said again.

“Why?” Esyll asked. Her lips twitched into a sneer which she hid behind the flower she held.

“Why not?” Niyol held Esyll’s gaze until Esyll glanced away. “There are people and cities beyond the forest. Don’t you ever wonder what is out there?” Niyol swept her hand toward the horizon in the direction of the distant harbor. Salt air clung to the long fabric of her sleeves.

“But … they could hurt you,” Eeril said.

Niyol rolled her eyes, but her smile was kind. “And there is nothing here that can harm you?”

Esyll shuddered. “There was a karosh reported north of the Tadhg village before we left. If it weren’t for the khat’zi, Aaindriu would have taken warriors to track it down.”

Rriveag’s eyes widened. “A power-eater? We haven’t seen one in decades.”

“You are protected here.” Niyol’s eyes were serious. “They come off the frozen plains in the cold seasons. The Haessu have to fight them every winter.”

Esyll laughed. “You want us to think the Haessu fight power-eaters every cold season? You don’t have enough people.”

Tension tightened Niyol’s svelte body. Combined with a white-knuckled hand holding her stave, the piercing look she cast Esyll carried a turbulent threat. “Why do you think we don’t have many people … or care so little for the rivalry between Caedhru and Aaindriu?” Niyol looked away into the shadows of the forest. “We have other worries.”

“Then I’m amazed you would leave your people and travel,” Esyll said coldly. “I’m surprised you managed to return for your first khat’zi … despite being eligible to choose years ago.”

A rustling murmur raced through the small knot of Kith as Niyol swung to face Esyll. “I came as a promise to Yrrah. I take my oath to my elder seriously.”

“So seriously that you have skipped khat’zi before when it is your duty as Kith?” Esyll mocked.

Niyol’s eyes flashed as she twisted her stave into the soft soil. “Yrrah trusted me to judge when it was time. Just because someone is of age does not mean they are ready to choose.”

“You are so ready that you had to promise your elder you would attend?” Esyll rolled her eyes. Two young women stifled giggles. Niyol lifted her stave with fluid grace. Esyll met Niyol’s eyes with a lift of her chin.

No matter her bold words and haughty stance, Esyll was not a warrior. Laith doubted she’d ever held a practice sword much less one of the ancient blades of the Kith forefathers. But he was tey’bahl of the Sithchaine and successor to Caedhru, trusted to lead warriors into battle.

Laith stepped between Esyll and Niyol. “The khat’zi is not a time for arguments.”

“No, it is a time for friendship and possibly love,” Esyll said as she placed her hand on Laith’s arm. “You promised to show me the waterfalls up the river today?”

Laith nodded and led Esyll away from the conflict she’d begun. Questions for Niyol found their way to his lips easier than a conversation with Esyll as they walked, so he held his tongue. Esyll didn’t notice as she spoke earnestly. It took a few minutes for Laith to realize she complained of Niyol’s attitude.

“She acts as if the Haessu are a better tribe than the Tadhg or Sithchaine.” Esyll paused to meet Laith Lus’ gaze.
He swallowed hard. “Let’s not talk about Niyol.”

Esyll smirked. Annoyance flared like a rash under his skin, but when Esyll met his gaze, she smiled brightly in a way that brightened the air around her. He released a slow breath.

Hours later after a hike through woodland paths strewn with ferns to see thundering waterfalls that had astounded Esyll, Laith had forgotten Niyol. And he’d discovered a lot more about Esyll. She laughed easily and, though timid around Aaindriu, she had taken his teasing to splash water with her by pushing him into the pool. Fiesty and bright, Esyll was also beautiful and joyful. It was easy to forget about the problems and expectations that waited for them in Lus na Sithchaine.

“I may be muddy, but you are soaked to the skin,” Esyll teased as they walked into the central clearing together. “You hardly make a fetching image for the khat’zi.”

A streak of mud traced the curve of her cheek, and her skirt was fern whipped as well as held a ragged edge of mud, but to Laith, it made her all the more lovely. She blushed under his gaze.

“Laith Lus.” Aaindriu’s voice startled Laith and made Esyll jumped. She stepped closer to Laith. “A word with you?”

Laith nodded to Aaindriu who stood halfway across the clearing. “I’ll see you later at the dance?” He asked Esyll. “I’ll even make sure I am less damp, though I don’t think you have any reason to complain since you are the cause of it.”

Esyll laughed, though not as boldly as before. She cast a sidelong glance toward Aaindriu before walking away to the house that had taken her and her mother in for the khat’zi. Laith’s gaze followed her for a moment, enjoying her disheveled state and cheeks rosy from the walk and laughter.

Laith ambled to join Aaindriu. Aaindriu wasn’t the elder of his tribe, so though he deserved respect, it did not need to be immediate. The thought made him snort. Ceadhru would be proud. An afternoon with Niyol and already he thought less of the leader of the Tadhg just because of how his actions affected Esyll. But Laith had never had reason to fault Aaindriu before.

Laith pushed aside his barely sprouted feelings. “Good afternoon, Elder of the Tadhg,” he said with a slight bow.

“None of that.” Aaindriu waved the respect aside and offered Laith his arm to clasp as if they were equals. “You are tey’bahl of the Sithchaine, something that is well deserved. Walk with me?” He waved them toward the edge of the woods where wide pathways led to a nearby stream.

Aaindriu spoke of the training of warriors as they walked. “We should take the opportunity of the khat’zi for our warriors to train together.”

“I think Ceadhru would prefer to make it a sparring session.”

Aaindriu laughed. “Yes, one with a wager to it as well.” He glanced at Laith before looking around the small clearing next to the stream.

No one else stood nearby. When Aaindriu met Laith’s gaze, it held a serious weight that made him stand his ground.

“You like Esyll.”

Laith blinked and opened his mouth, but words failed to come to him. Aaindriu held up a hand as a smile pulled at his lips.

“It is new, I know. But I saw you together. I’ve watched you many years and across many khat’zi. You like her when you’ve seldom liked any.”

Laith Lus blushed but did not deny what Aaindriu said. “What of it?”

“It is good that is all.” Aaindriu walked to the stream and stared into the clear water, his thoughts lost to the pebble-strewn depth. Finally, he turned back to Laith. “I approve. I suppose that is what I am trying to say. And that if you do choose Esyll, I will have Fiachra formally name her as her successor again and … I will name you as mine.”

Laith’s thoughts fractured. When Aaindriu had mentioned Esyll, he’d been tongued knotted and nervous to know what Aaindriu thought of the match. After Ceadhru’s ordering of it, Laith could have expected something opposite from the leader of the Tadhg. But he had not expected this.

“But I am Caedhru’s tey’bahl. I cannot be—”

“The leader of both tribes?” Aaindriu shrugged. “There is no law against it. All the Kith once lived here. We were all once Sithchaine. I would ask you to choose Tadhg over the Sithchaine, but your tree is here. It is best you were the leader of both. I trust my people to you.”

Laith’s throat was too tight to speak. He answered by bowing to Aaindriu. Aaindriu stopped him by clasping his shoulders.

“I told you, I’ve watched you for many years. I respect you, and I know my people will too. Especially when they see you fight. We will spar tomorrow?”

Laith nodded and swallowed. “Yes. And … thank you. I will—”

“Think about it.” Aaindriu finished for him. “Marriage is a big decision as is leadership. I know you take both seriously. Which is why I know you will choose well.”

Aaindriu left Laith Lus alone. As soon as the elder of the Tadhg disappeared around the bend of the path, Laith sat hard on the nearest bolder and stared unseeing into the flowing stream.

Part 4
Realizations

Laith didn’t know what he’d think or how he’d feel the next time he saw Esyll. But when he saw her amid the fading daylight as lantern bugs migrated from the forest to the clearing, he felt like he’d walked off a cliff.

Esyll’s walnut and gold locks dropped around her shoulders in looped braids that were tangled with flowers and ferns. Her dress looked to have been woven from pale yellow leaves. She was the forest turned girl and Laith’s heart double beat. His was not the only one.

Four other young Kith from the Sithchaine tribe and Haessu stood nearly shoulder to shoulder as they spoke to Esyll and the two young women who accompanied her. Usually, he would have left any young woman with so many potentials alone to enjoy the promised evening ahead. But he remembered far too well the laughter in Esyll’s eyes after she drenched him in the stream. He would not let the entire evening go by without time spent with her.

“I see you took care of the mud,” Laith said as he joined Esyll and her companions.

Esyll blushed. A flash filled her eyes as she glanced to see who heard Laith’s comment. “And you are far less damp,” she pointed out as she stepped away from the four young men. “I looked a fright. You should have told me.”

“I didn’t think you looked a fright at all.” Esyll’s half lifted brow held disbelief. “But you do look even lovelier now,” he added. She smiled at that.

“I would hope so!” Her gaze swept over him before she stepped closer to speak to him in a quiet voice. “And you look much better than the mud covered Haessu you appeared to be earlier.”

He choked on emotions tangled with words to tell her how inappropriate her comment was. His eyes caught on the disappointment of the four men who’d been speaking to her. Laith pushed aside the knot in his chest. “You are ignoring the others for me,” he teased.

Esyll flicked her fingers toward the beau’s behind her. “Of course, you are tey’bahl of the Sithchaine,” Esyll said with a light laugh. “The other boys hold nothing to that.” Laith’s expression froze, but Esyll didn’t notice as she caught the eye of one of the other hopeful successors to Fiachra’s position and flashed her a smug smile. “What did Aaindriu have to say to you?” Esyll placed her hand on his arm as she returned her attention to him.

“We are going to have the warriors from Sithchaine and Tadhg practice together tomorrow.”

The corner’s of Esyll’s delicate mouth drooped. “Oh. Fighting … that is too bad. I thought we could go for another walk. You could take me to the shore!” She stepped closer.

“I cannot break my promise to Aaindriu. Perhaps the day after?”

Esyll’s smile didn’t touch her eyes. The sadness that hovered near her wove against the annoyance her comments sparked. “Yes, that would be nice. We do have a month for the khat’zi, and that will only be the third day.”

An ache pulsed behind Laith’s eyes. This was why he always dreaded the khat’zi. A month of pressure to fall in love and find a wife. The first year, he’d struggled through as lost as wind over the sea. After that, he’d gone first from dread to building friendships among the tribes and fulfilling his role as tey’bahl. It was part of his duty to welcome the other tribes and help new participants to the khat’zi. So he had danced, greeted, discussed, and found peace. But he’d never fallen love.

Esyll was the closest he’d felt to something more. But she also symbolized the pressure to choose a wife while twisting his role as tey’bahl into something he no longer cherished. The resulting ache in his chest and chilled palms was decidedly not derived from romantic feelings. But maybe without the khat’zi, if he could pretend it didn’t exist, he might really care for her. He just wasn’t sure.

“Dance with me?” he asked her.

Esyll’s false smile warmed. “If you are careful of my dress.”

Esyll wouldn’t dance fast, but she did laugh easily at missteps as they found their own pace. When the hum of stringed instruments fell to the lone trill of a pipe, she stepped closer to him and placed her hand on his upper arm. Eyes lost in hers, Laith didn’t ask if she would dance the slower song with him. They moved together as if they could read each other’s mind.

Despite the slow pace, Laith’s heart hammered as if he faced his first karosh by the time the last note fell to silence between the magnificent trees. If this was love, he wasn’t entirely sure he liked it, at least not all of it. Esyll’s reaction was far less timid.

“Come,” she said as she took his hand and tugged him toward the side of the dancers.

“Where?” Laith said with a laugh.

Esyll glanced at him over her shoulder. “To tell Aaindriu you and I are going to the beach tomorrow.”

Laith stopped. Esyll’s pace carried her forward, and her hand slipped from his with enough force that Esyll stumbled. She whirled to face him, one hand grabbing at her skirt where a dark tear marred the yellow leaves.

“Look what you did,” she hissed. Despite her anger, the delicate weave of leaves and stems rethreaded under her fingers. She had been Fiachra’s tey’bahl. Esyll’s power easily could mend a small split. She thrust her hand toward him. “Come.”

“I told you I have other duties tomorrow,” Laith spoke slowly, trying to keep his growing irritation from his voice.

“This is the khat’zi. You can play with the warriors and Aaindriu once w—you are wed.”

“I am Ceadhru’s tey’bahl. Those duties carry on khat’zi or no.” Laith bowed to her and turned so that he didn’t have to see the hurt in her eyes when he’d said the word “tey’bahl.” He didn’t mean to cause her pain, but he was beginning to wonder if she cared about his feelings.

Rubbing a finger over his eyelid, Laith walked wearily to a quiet spot at the edge of the clearing. If dancing with Esyll made him feel like he faced a power-eater, arguing with her made him feel as if he’d been defeated by one.

“I thought you were doing well until the dance was over.” Rriveag handed Laith a full tankard of cider. Gratitude rolled through Laith and eased the irritation. Or at least made it feel more trivial. “What happened?”

“She doesn’t take ‘no’ very well.”

Rriveag chuckled. “A woman as pretty as Esyll probably doesn’t hear that word very often.”

Laith looked at his friend in surprise. Rriveag was a handful of years younger than Laith. This was his fourth khat’zi, and like Laith, he took the chaotic mix of hope and fear of the month-long gathering with an abstract patience. At least Laith had until this year.

Laith snorted. “You are probably right there. Thank you.” Laith swallowed another mouthful of cider as Rriveag tossed him a questioning glance. “It is harder to have perspective when—” Laith gestured to the couples dancing or gazing hopefully into each other’s eyes.

“I would think the last thing you would need is for me to say don’t rush into anything.” Rriveag laughed but sobered when Laith stared at the dark grass at his feet. “You like her?”

Laith shrugged. “At times.” Words he hadn’t expected rose to his lips in a fury. “She nearly said ‘we married.’ I haven’t chosen her. All I did is dance with her once.” Laith stopped speaking before he admitted to Rriveag that Esyll sounded a little too much like Caedhru and Aaindriu, having decided for him something that was meant to be his choice and his life.

Rriveag stared at him. Lips parted, he turned to peer into the mix of dancers. Laith followed his gaze to see Esyll on the far side speaking to a young man of age to her. She placed a hand on his arm and glanced over her shoulder, her eyes searching through the throng of people. When she returned her attention to the man in front of her, she sighed and took her hand quickly away. Laith shook his head.

“Stay away from her,” Rriveag said. “If you need perspective, you are tey’bahl. There are other first time Kith here. You helped me not feel overwhelmed, help them.”

“And maybe I will feel less overwhelmed as well?”

“Or at least do some good!”

Laith laughed and dropped a hand on Rriveag’s shoulder in thanks. As much as being tey’bahl of the Sithchaine reminded him of Ceadhru’s demand he wed Esyll, it also offered him familiar peace. Helping younger Kith navigate the khat’zi or train to fight were two of the things he liked about his role. He wanted to aid his people.

Half an hour later after speaking to three youths lost in the rush of emotions, he spied Niyol. Still wearing a dress transformed into a strange, long tunic, and hair in a simple braid, she didn’t look ready for a night at the khat’zi despite the ornate trim on the hem and that her tall boots were clean. But as she laughed with a broad smile and flashing eyes, she did look to be having fun. But she also was only speaking to a gathering of only young woman.

Laith’s lips twitched into a smile as he approached. “I can tell this is your first khat’zi.”

“Why?” she asked. Her laughter undermined her affronted tone.

“Because you are meant to be socializing with likely young men.”

“Oh, that is easy to explain,” Niyol said with a grin. “I haven’t found any yet.”

One of the women laughed so hard she hiccuped. Laith chuckled at her ineffectual attempts to hide her reaction as well as to stop the hiccups that rocked her shoulders and chest. Attention shifted to her as the young women, and a few others nearby offered suggestions to help her stop.

Too amused to be annoyed, Laith held out a hand to Niyol. “Will you dance with me?” Laith asked. She raised an eyebrow at him over eyes watering from laughter. “You are here to participate in the khat’zi, aren’t you? This is part of it.”

Niyol rolled her eyes. “I’d rather spar with you.” But she placed her hand on his.

Laith Lus lead Niyol to the edge of the swirling dancers, but before he took the first step to join them, he whispered to her, “We can do that tomorrow if you wish.”

Her eyes sparked as he twirled her into the rhythm of the music and step of the dancers. Somehow, they didn’t part ways after the dance.

“Will you really be fighting tomorrow?”

“I promised Aaindriu I would lead the Sithchaine fighters along with the Tadhg. There is no reason the Haessu shouldn’t join too.”

Niyol leveled an assessing gaze at him. “Thank you. It seems we are more often forgotten than included,” she added as Laith’s brows scrunched at her appreciation.

He shrugged. “You are Kith … and you are only saying that because you are looking forward to trying to hit me.”

Niyol grinned. “No, only trip you. Which, I didn’t do while we were dancing, so we should try again.” She offered him her hand.

Part 5
The Karosh

Niyol slipped her stave under Laith’s guard and behind his calf. With a flick, she sent him backward. Laith Lus’ breath left him in a whoosh as his back impacted the dirt of the practice yard.

“She beat you … again,” Rriveag said from the sidelines.

“I noticed,” Laith gasped.

“Barely,” Niyol added from where she stood bent at the waist with half her weight resting on the staff held in her hands. “That was a good strike you landed just before.”

Laith sat up though it sent his head spinning. “Are you all right?”

Niyol straightened as she shook her head. “You are the one on the ground pale as beach sand, and you are asking me if I’m injured?” She offered her hand to help him stand. “I think we should call a truce for a bit?”

“Agreed.” Laith took her offered help. She caught his shoulders as the horizon tilted and kept him from tumbling back to the dirt.

“Are you okay?”

“Just give me a moment.”

Laith kept his eyes closed to keep the out-of-kilter world from twisting his senses. Instead, he focused on the warmth of Niyol’s hand on his chest. She stood as close as when they danced. Only with both of them out of breath and grimed by sweat and dust, this felt far more intimate. He wondered what it would be like to kiss her.

“Will you help instruct the other fighters?” He asked as he opened his eyes.

She blushed as he caught her gaze and realized she had been watching him. “Happily.”

Today was the sixth they had tested each other with staves in the practice yard. Niyol was decidedly tricky to beat in a match. All the Haessu fighters were. It lent credence to Niyol’s claim they fought karosh. Which made him wonder why Ceadhru and Aaindriu did not give aid or even acknowledge it.

He pushed aside the thought, promising he would ask her later when they met at the nightly dance that was as much a part of the khat’zi as the assembly of the three tribes. The morning passed instructing younger warriors. Laith was accustomed to Aaindriu’s gaze following him. Occasionally, the elder of the Tadhg fought him as well or joined with the instruction. But today, Aaindriu merely watched with a keen eye on the handful of potential successors to the leadership of the Tadhg. Laith did not miss that Aaindriu’s gaze followed him as often as the Tadhg in Aaindriu’s kahl’vil.

Laith knew it was midday when Esyll arrived carrying a satchel and walking at Caedhru’s side. The warm smile that rose to his lips was not forced. Away from the khat’zi and the watchful eyes of Fiachra and Aaindriu, Esyll was joyful company. So he compromised with the duty he had as Caedhru’s tey’bahl and the role both Caedhru and Aaindriu expected by spending afternoons with Esyll away from Sithchaine. The only problem he foresaw was running out of places within a close walk. That, and when the khat’zi ended, and he chose no one again.

Because that was his plan. They would not force him. He would see if he loved Esyll when no pressure weighed on him. Hopefully, Bannyl would help explain that to Caedhru. If not, Laith was willing to bear Caedhru’s displeasure alone.

Esyll wrinkled her nose at him. “Must you fight every morning? You smell of sweat and are covered in dirt.”

“If I remember correctly, you were the one who pushed me into the river on our first walk and got me covered in mud.”

“Hah. I think I should push you in again. It would do you good!” Esyll skipped forward out of arms reach.

As Laith chased after, he caught Niyol’s gaze on him. His pace slipped. By all measure, he and Esyll were courting. At least by all measure but his real intent. He should tell Esyll, Laith knew that. It would be better if she understood his plan, but he had yet to find a way to explain it.

And part of that stemmed because he knew if he spoke, it would be a promise. And he wasn’t ready for that. He glanced back at Niyol. She gathered discarded staves and no longer looked his way.

“Are you coming?” Esyll yelled. She’d nearly reached the edge of the woods.

“I thought I’d let you lead,” Laith called to her. “It will be interesting to see how lost you get!”

Esyll flashed him a look that was more than a little mischievous before bolting toward the woods. Laith swore under his breath as he laughed and gave chase.

Esyll was fleet-footed and powerful. Ferns bent out of her way to whip backward and try to trip him. He leaped over a branch that twisted upwards to catch his leg. Laith resisted using power to undo her attempts to slow him. She didn’t really wish to lose him, so he leaped and whirled as he dodged a forest that tried to slow his pursuit.

“Oh!”

Esyll’s startled cry and the sudden inanimate behavior of the foliage gave Laith an extra boost of speed. He dodged out of the undergrowth to see Esyll pinwheeling her arms as she grabbed for a nearby tree that reached for her as she stood at the edge of steep gorge. Laith darted forward and caught Esyll by her waist as he spun her away from the edge and into his arms.

She fell against his chest with a relieved sigh. “Thank you.” Her voice was a husky whisper from the run as well as the frightened moment as she’d struggled to keep her balance above the chasm that fell to a rushing stream far below. “I guess you were right that I’d get myself lost. I almost ran off the edge.” Esyll closed her eyes and trembled in his arms.

Laith’s heart sped from the run and how close he held Esyll. Her hand rested on his chest and her waist against his hip. She opened her eyes and tilted her face upward. His gaze brushed her lips.

“You should be more careful,” Laith said as he released her and stepped away to pick up the satchel she’d dropped a foot from the ravine’s edge. “We walked the path along the gorge two days ago. I thought you knew where you were.”

“Did we?” Esyll asked glancing down the trail. She shrugged. “I just ran and didn’t pay attention to which way. Since we are here, do you want to have lunch next to that quiet pool again?”

“Where we ate yesterday? Don’t you want to see something new?”

Esyll stepped closer and placed a hand on his arm. “Do you think I care where we go? Besides,” she added with eyes laughing. “It is a nice swimming place, and you could use a bath.”

He relented, but only because of her teasing. Otherwise, he would have returned to Sithchaine. He did not know Esyll’s feelings, but her actions were more serious than he felt. Guilt that he continued to spend time with her because of Caedhru and Aaindriu more than because he enjoyed her company left a taste like sour berries in his mouth. Tomorrow, he should invite others with them or simply not go.

When they reached the secluded pool, Laith walked passed Esyll and waded in. He heard her say his name as he dove in. The cold water shocked his mind to the same alertness of his emotions. Instead of rationalizing why he saw Esyll, he needed his logic to agree with his heart. No matter the problem it caused, this could not go on.

Laith swam along the pebble bottom of the clear pool to come up on the far side near where the stream fell in sheets along the broken bedrock.

Esyll sat with her shoes off on a rock and timidly dipped a toe into the water. “It is colder than I expected. Otherwise, I would join you.” She blushed and glanced away as Laith swam slowly toward her.

“Esyll …” Laith began as he found his footing and stood to wade through the shallows.

Esyll rose to her feet as if she were a bird taking flight. She stepped decidedly into the water and met Laith a few feet from shore, tripping so that he had to catch her or let her fall into the cool water.

“You are soaked and cold!” Esyll said with a laugh as she leaned against him. “But you do smell better. If I knew you’d get me this damp, I would have just dove in with you.”

Laith steadied her with his hands on her shoulders. “Here, I’m sorry. I’ll help you to shore.”

She glanced at him with knitted brows and said nothing as he helped her walk along the slippery bank. As soon as she stood on the dry grass of the bank, she turned to face him. “What is wrong, Laith? It has been over a week since the khat’zi began. We can be … more serious than this.” Esyll gestured to the space between them. She stepped closer. “We could dance the promise dances and we could—”

“Yes, it has been more than a week,” Laith said as he stepped back.

Esyll’s confused gaze faded into one far more heated. She glared at him. “You don’t intend to choose me? After a week? I’ve gone on these stupid walks with you to be alone with you. My dress is soaked! And you—” Esyll spun on her heel, jammed her feet into her discarded shoes, and hurried toward the trail leading toward Lus na Sithchaine.

Laith waited until he heard only the sound of the waterfall splashing over the rocks and the ever-present rustle of leaves sliding together in the breeze before he slowly released his breath. That wasn’t how he meant to tell her. And she deserved to know all of it. Maybe she would understand his hesitation if she knew the pressure Caedhru and Aaindriu caused.

“Esyll!” Laith yelled as he ran after her.

Laith must have waited longer than he realized or Esyll had decided to run. She was not along the path atop the gorge. As he jogged toward the meadow, growing shouts quickened his pace. A grating roar pitched him to a full-speed run.

Laith burst from the undergrowth into sunshine and a sight that stopped him as if he’d hit a wall. A scaled karosh that would have towered over an elk opened its beaked jaw and roared. Its ornamental mane of feathers spiked with its fury. Beneath its feathered legs and curved talons, Esyll curled into a ball with her hands protecting her head. The karosh lunged forward.

“Get away from her!” Niyol smacked the karosh’s curved beak with a stave.

The karosh blinked at her. Niyol looked equally as surprised as it. With a hiss, the karosh darted its head forward. Niyol’s staff broke under the power of its curved beak.

“Help her!” Laith yelled as the surprise that kept him rooted broke.

He ran toward Niyol as she ducked under the karosh’s flattened tail with its blade sharp edge. Her staff regrew in her hand, but to do so, Niyol needed to make it thinner. Her meager weapon would not harm the beast that pivoted between Esyll and Niyol. The karosh eyed Niyol before turning toward the crumpled figure of Esyll where she sobbed on the ground. A rock exploded against its cheek.

“I said leave her alone!” Niyol hurled another rock at the karosh, this time hitting it between its eyes.

The karosh roared as it scampered after Niyol, who lead it away from Esyll in a quick chase before she turned to face the raging monster again.

As he paused to check Esyll, Laith’s gaze stayed on Niyol who faced a beast twice her height with something that looked like a twig. It slashed at her with talons, which she blocked with the staff. The wooden pole held, but it only could have done so if Niyol used power. And that was the danger of it and what the karosh wanted. Not blood or meat, but magic.

The karosh struck at her with its tail. Niyol twirled to the side as if she danced, her split and shortened dress flared around her as she dodged.

Esyll’s shoulders heaved with her sobs, but she was alive and looked to bear no more than scratches. Niyol faced far worse and stood alone.

“Get Esyll away,” Laith yelled to the few watchers who hovered at the forest edge. “And then leave to get help.”

Even as he spoke, Laith saw Rriveag run from the forest. A translucent sword flashed sunlight in his hand. That was where the warriors who had been practicing had gone. To get something more lethal than sticks. Laith stood, but Esyll grabbed his hand.

“Don’t leave me!” she begged. “It will kill you.”

“My warriors do not fight without me,” Laith said as he pulled away. He sprinted to join Rriveag.

Rriveag glanced at Laith in surprise as he slowed outside of the karosh’s reach. “Take the sword. I’ll fight with …”

“Keep it,” Laith said, gaze on Niyol who had gained a bloody slash but managed to stay a few twisting paces away from the karosh’s talons. “I’ll help Niyol distract it. You sneak in to kill it.” Then Laith’s heart stopped.

The karosh lunged forward with both front claws open to grab Niyol while striking with its hooked beak. Niyol had nowhere to dodge to, so she dropped to her knees. The karosh’s taloned paw hit her on the side. She rolled, but not out of range as it surged forward and swiped at her again. On her back, Niyol blocked the attack with her staff. Power flared around her as she strengthened the fragile length of wood with magic. That was when the karosh charged forward with open mouth.

The karosh’s beak snapped on the bright aura that surrounded Niyol. She screamed. Convulsing in agony, Niyol writhed on the ground as the karosh raised its head. Bands of light dripped from its beak.

“No!” Laith charged forward.

Rriveag stopped him by grabbing Laith across his chest. “It is too late.”

Laith pushed Rriveag aside and ran toward the karosh. As it dipped its head for another bite of Niyol’s magic, Laith grabbed a rock. Wrapping it in magic, Laith hurled it at the karosh’s head. The impact sent the karosh staggering. It turned with crown feathers flared as it growled at him.

Laith stood his ground as he called enough power that the world around him brightened as if he stood in fire. Nearby pebbles rose into the air. “Do you want a feast?” Laith asked. The karosh stared at him without blinking. “Come for me.” Laith held out his arms, empty hands splayed. The karosh barreled forward.

Laith waited until the monster was a yard away. He spun sideways as its leg feathers swept over his chest, but he was too close to dodge the sharp scales of its tail. Rriveag stepped in front of him and took the impact on his sword.

“You are insane,” Rriveag hissed through clenched teeth. Blood marked his arm, but the cut did not look deep, certainly not as deep as it would have been if the karosh’s tail had struck Laith’s chest.

“The plan hasn’t changed,” Laith said as he pushed Rriveag further from the karosh. “I’ll distract. You kill.”

Rriveag’s eyes were wide, but he didn’t argue. It usually took at least four seasoned warriors to bring down a karosh, seven was preferable. Just the two of them against a beast who had a mouthful of power to tempt it and add to its energy was ill planned. But Rriveag nodded and backed away.

The karosh eyed Rriveag before turning to Laith. It was smart enough to know which of them was unarmed and held more power. With magic wrapping around Laith like starlight, the karosh bobbed its head as Laith paced sideways, turning with him until Rriveag stood near its rear quarters.

This time when it charged, Laith swept up a handful of dirt and stone and hurled it at the karosh’s eyes. It snapped at the debris, aiming to grab the power Laith threw with his attack, but the sharpened grit hit its open eyes and tongue before it could bite. Rubbing its eyes against feathered legs and mouth agape to show a bloody tongue, the karosh paused only a moment before turning its attention to Laith again. Every feather on its mostly scaled body tensed. Then Rriveag stabbed it in its side.

The karosh erupted in a flurry of movement, striking Rriveag with a rear leg. He flew backward and hit the ground hard but managed to roll to miss the slashing tail of the beast. Curled around its wound, the karosh scratched at the sword lodged in its side while snapping wildly at the pain as if fighting an invisible attacker.

Laith needed a weapon but had none. Rriveag moved slowly, rolling to his side to put a hand under him. Now was their best moment to attack and win. Laith searched for something that could kill a karosh. The karosh’s rear leg reached the sword. Finally finding the cause of its agony, the karosh paused. A javelin struck its neck, the tip emerging from the far side.

The karosh writhed like an injured snake, striking with legs, tail, and beak; it was a fury of promised death. Niyol struggled to stand from where she knelt. Laith hurried to her side.

“You are injured. Get to the forest.” Laith said as he helped her to her feet.

Niyol shook her head though the motion was slow. “It is more dangerous injured. We have to kill it.”

“Fighters will come,” Rriveag promised as he staggered to join them. “They are coming.”

“We are here,” Niyol said.

Laith met her gaze, his heart full of a hundred things to say. All he could do was nod. “We keep our distance and spread out.”
Laith grabbed stones and sticks as he walked to the opposite side of the creature. The frantic movements had slowed. Mouth agape, it panted as its wounds leaked blood, but its eyes watched him with malice that promised it would kill and feed to heal and not be the one to die today.

Rriveag threw a stone that hit its wounded side. As it turned, Laith hurled a sharpened stick, adding power to fuel its speed and impact despite the danger. The weapon buried full length into the karosh’s shoulder. Screaming, the karosh charged him in a limping rush. Niyol’s thrown stone burst against its side but did not distract the creature.

Laith dove to the side, rolling away as it scratched after him. Niyol raced by him, a new pointed staff in her hand as she protected Laith. The karosh’s hooked beak caught the end of the stave, threatening to break it or grab Niyol’s power again.

Laith scrambled to his feet and placed his hand on the staff with Niyol, his other hand supporting her. He added his power to hers, risking both of their lives and magic to fuel the staff to grow. The diameter of the pole shrunk under his fingers as the spike burst through the back of the karosh’s skull. It fell at their feet.

Niyol released her breath in a rush. With a tremble, she rested her forehead against Laith’s neck as he held her. Across the dead body of the karosh, Rriveag sank wearily to his knees.

Part 6
Feathers

“You should tell her,” Rriveag said from where he sat next to Laith Lus.

“Tell who what?” Shai Bannan asked as she wrapped herbs and a clean bandage around Rriveag’s arm. Mint and crushed greens scented the air, masking the lingering smell of blood.

Laith’s hands trembled. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I saw your face.” Rriveag’s gaze lanced through Laith as if spearing the truth from him. “You were truly frightened she would die.”

“She is a friend,” Laith stammered.

Rriveag raised an eyebrow. “You’ve never looked that worried for me.”

Shai giggled as her deft fingers wound the clean cloth around Rriveag’s arm. She finished and lightly touched the end of the bandage. The weave bound itself to the layer underneath. “Keep it on for two days and don’t get the bandage wet.” Rriveag nodded. He stretched his arm and winced before he held it straight. Resting again, he returned his gaze to Laith.

Laith squeezed his eyes shut, trying to find humor but none came. The sight of Niyol at the feet of the karosh shook him more profoundly than he wanted to admit.

“Esyll is barely scratched by the karosh,” Shai said. Laith opened his eyes to see her brows scrunched over her nose. “You shouldn’t be so worried.”

“What does Esyll have to do with this?” Rriveag asked.

“Ceadhru ordered Laith to choose her,” Shai said as she sat next to Rriveag.

“What?” Rriveag’s face was a shocked blank.

Laith stood. “Enough. That is not something you need to share, Shai.”

“I would think letting people know what the leader of the Sithchaine tribe has asked of his tey’bahl is important. It isn’t right.” Shai’s glare held the potency of her power and status.

“I agree.” Rriveag’s look was a mix of anger and concern.

“Thanks,” Laith said thickly as he walked away.

Niyol lived as did he and Rriveag. Three winning against a karosh was unheard of, especially three whose years were under a century, only one who wielded a sword, and one of whom had been bitten. Actually, no one before Niyol had survived the bite of a power eater. Laith blinked away tears as he sought the refuge of his home. He should see Ceadhru. But Ceadhru would tell him to visit Esyll. And Laith didn’t wish that. He wanted to see Niyol so much his chest ached. Emotions and exhaustion gripped him so tightly he didn’t know what to do. So he retreated before he made a mistake.

Sleep eased the turbulent emotions that had gripped him hours earlier. Laith woke to the peaceful light of sunset as lantern bugs flickered to glowing light. The afternoon’s events felt stunningly unreal. But out of all of them from the argument with Esyll to battling the karosh, what he remembered the most was the feel of Niyol cradled in his arms as she rested against him. Laith slipped out of bed determined to see her. A karosh had bitten her power, yet she’d managed to sharpen a spear and fight. He felt more awe of her than the power-eater.

Laith did take the time to clean the grime from the afternoon fight from his skin. With fresh clothes and the sleep, the events from hours earlier felt to have happened days prior. Except for his worry over Niyol. He trembled whenever he thought of holding her after the battle. The warmth of her lingered on his fingertips.

Darkness had settled across Lus na Sithchaine by the time he left his small house nestled in the hollow of an old tree. Through the foliage and tree trunks, the lights from the gathering in the central clearing glowed yellow. Strains of muffled music rose over the sigh of leaves as the great trees swayed in lofty winds.

Laith quickened his steps to join the celebration of the karosh’s defeat. Tonight the khat’zi’s exclusivity of only the unwed would be eased. The clearing would be filled with the members of three tribes, joined to honor those who had fought. And he was late.

“You look better.”

Laith jumped. Lost in thoughts of finding Niyol, it took Laith Lus a moment before he recognized Esyll.

She took his arm and leaned against him as she smiled. “I was starting to worry you wouldn’t come to your own warrior ceremony, so I came to find you.” She pulled him forward.

Laith stopped walking as if he’d become a sapling. “Esyll, we cannot arrive together. They will think …”

“You saved my life today.” She stood on the path in front of him, so the light of the celebration outlined her curve of her hip and gilt the gold in her hair. She held out a hand. “I know you care.”

“Niyol saved your life.” Laith’s answer sounded more like a croak than words. “And I fought to save Niyol’s.”

Esyll froze. Slowly her eyes widened. “No.” Tears glimmered on her cheeks. “You do not mean that …, not her. She is Haessu!”

“Esyll!”

Laith reached for her arm as she turned, but Esyll spun toward him. Her palm struck his face with enough force that he released her and waited as she rushed away. He sighed as he touched his stinging cheek. The pain felt deserved for having never told her. It some ways, it was a relief. If Esyll wouldn’t have him, Caedhru’s order could hardly be followed.

Laith Lus smiled as he finally rounded the path to the celebration. It took only a moment for his presence to be noticed. Cheers erupted and a pathway made for him to walk forward. On the platform beneath Caedhru’s tree, Niyol and Rriveag dinned with the six elders, an empty chair between them.

Laith felt like he floated rather than walked to the platform and stepped onto the solid surface unaware of the multitude of eyes watching him. The noise and shouting barely registered as his gaze met Niyol’s. Only Caedhru standing and baring his way broke Laith from his daze.

“You are late.”

Laith smiled at his elder. “I was a little tired.” Laughter rolled through the crowd.

Caedhru blushed. He clapped Laith on his back as he moved aside. “The karosh killer!” Caedhru yelled to the crowd. They yelled.

Laith ignored Caedhru as he joined Rriveag and Niyol, waiting for the shouting to die. He stood behind his chair between Rriveag and Niyol. “The karosh killers,” he said loudly as the din waned. It burst forward twice as loud.

Aaindriu bowed his head to Laith but the Haessu leaders Tuama and Yrrah stood to offer their arms. Only then did Laith sit between his friends to join them in the feast.

—

“The problem isn’t the tey’bahl,” Niyol said with a shake of her head. She glanced toward Aaindriu.

Niyol turned toward the crowd where the feast was slowly waning, and dance music began. A pleasant hour had passed, one that felt to Laith as if it lasted for days with his every sense heightened. But then, he was more than a little tipsy on mead.

“It is that we can only choose whom we love during the khat’zi once a year,” she continued. “From what I heard, Maitiu loved Yreamah. They waited for six months once they fell in love just after the khat’zi. It isn’t their fault they had to wait a full year when they knew their choice already.”

“You would argue with the elders and our traditions?”

Niyol shrugged. “I am Yrrah’s tey’bahl. Who else should argue with the elders but their successors?”

Rriveag blinked. “I didn’t know you were tey’bahl.” Niyol laughed into her tankard and coughed on the foam.

“I’m not surprised,” Laith answered. “I’d be embarrassed if she were not considering how many times she beat me in the practice yard.”

Niyol laughed so hard she had to put her cup down. Rriveag wasn’t much better. Laith patted Niyol’s back gently, his hand lingering on her shoulder as she choked on air.

“You can’t die over a joke,” Laith whispered to her. “After defeating a karosh that would be humiliating.” Niyol laughed harder, her cheeks stained red.

The music and talking died as the six elders glanced at each other and stood. Yrrah stepped forward with Tuama at her side. In her hand, she held three karosh feathers. Eyes still dancing despite composing her face into earnestness, Niyol stood. Laith and Rriveag joined her.

“What you did today is unheard of to our people,” Tuama, the elder of the Haessu, said.

“Your deeds will be passed down for generations.” Yrrah held out a feather to Niyol. “For bravery in the face of danger to your people.”

Niyol took the iridescent shaft that shaded from violet to gray gingerly. Yrrah turned and handed one to Laith Lus and then Rriveag. Laith swallowed hard as he held his. To earn one for killing a karosh was a rare accomplishment, but what overwhelmed him was that Aaindriu and Fiachra stepped forward as Yrrah and Tuama moved aside and in their hands, they held three feathers as well.

“The sign of true leadership is when one is willing to risk his or her life for another, even if that person is not of your tribe or people.” Aaindriu’s glance took in the three who stood before him, but he placed a hand on Laith Lus’ shoulder as he held out a feather. “For saving Esyll’s life at the risk of your own.”

Laith’s hand shook slightly as he touched the feather. “We are all Kith.” He didn’t speak loudly, but the words carried through the silence of the ceremony. Aaindriu squeezed Laith’s shoulder before turning to hand feathers to Rriveag and Niyol.

That would have been enough for Laith. Already it was more than he’d expected to achieve at such a young age. But Caedhru and Bannyl waited. The sight of three feathers in Bannyl’s hand rippled a whisper through the gathering.

Bannyl glanced at Caedhru, who nodded once. “As Laith said, we are all Kith. You, who are so young, ran to grab a weapon and alert others to the danger but did not stay to wait for help or even take the time to don armor. That is a true warrior spirit.” Bannyl handed Rriveag a feather then she turned to face Laith and Niyol. “And the two of you went to battle with mere sticks. But together the three of you proved stronger than our greatest threat.”

Laith couldn’t breathe as he took his third feather. Rriveag stood next to him with head bowed and eyes flooded with moisture. Niyol bit her lip as a tear spilled from the corner of her eye. Dimly, Laith heard the shouting of the tribes and felt his heart swell. Finally, the day’s events fully washed over him. He was alive. He and his two friends had defeated a karosh despite a myriad of factors that said they should have died. And he was in love.

Part 7
Turning Point

“Is it so difficult to imagine I am Yrrah’s tey’bahl?” Niyol asked. “I came to the khat’zi because Yrrah asked.”

Laith cast her a sidelong glance. “Is that the only reason?”

Niyol blushed. It was the first time he’d seen her do so and he relished in it. He bumped her shoulder with his, which changed her embarrassment to a self-conscious laugh.

“No,” she admitted with a whisper. “I came because I was ready too.” She bit her lips to hide her smile, but it still danced in her eyes.

“I’m glad.” Laith didn’t elaborate on if he were happy she had come or that she was ready to choose. Because really, he was equally pleased with both.

The defeat of the karosh had brought days of peace. Some of that stemmed from the fact that Caedhru, Aaindriu, and Yrrah led warriors to track the karosh. Runners were sent to both the Tadhg and Haessu to warn them a karosh had come closer to Lus na Sithchaine than one had in decades. Amid the absence of half the elders and a portion of adults, the khat’zi’s continuation barely affected Laith. The month was half over. Part of him knew he should care, but a majority was happy to be sitting in the sun next to Niyol. That she seemed equally pleased and relaxed despite the pressure the khat’zi spawned eased any trickle of worry that time imposed. They had two more weeks. There was no reason to rush.

Niyol turned to him, but her words remained unspoken as returning warriors entered the clearing. Translucent armor glinted in the bright sunlight. “No one looks injured,” Niyol said as she peered at the assortment of fighters. “Yrrah is with them.” She hesitated before glancing at Laith with an apology. “I should go.”

“I’m sure Caedhru has returned as well. We both have duties … I’ll see you tonight?”

Niyol’s flash of a smile was answer enough as she rose lithely to her feet and sprang across the grass. Laith remained sitting a moment longer, happy for the sunshine and the warmth in his heart. When he turned back to the returned warriors, it was to see Caedhru’s gaze on him. Darkness shifted like a cloud passed before the sun. Laith rose to his feet, feeling responsibility again as a weight.

Caedhru didn’t approach Laith until the weapons were stored and fighters dispersed. “Sithchaine has been quiet?”

Laith placed the last of the ancient blades in the storage made from the stump of a massive and long dead tree. “Yes, of course.” The last of the returned warriors leaving the room cast a shadow across the sunlit door.

“I trust you to watch over our people and do what is right in my absence.”

Laith’s brows bunched. “Bannyl remained.”

“She is only part of the whole … and there are obligations that you must do and she cannot.”

Cold rushed over Laith as if he jumped into a frigid stream. He shifted his feet as if meeting an oncoming fight, one that he prepared to repel. “I will not choose Esyll.”

“I told you that you must.” Caedhru waited.

The damp of old wood from the ancient hollow filled the air with an earthy scent. The rustle of trees and low voices of nearby Kith sounded muted as they filtered through the narrow door as if the bright life outside were far away.

Finally, Laith dropped his gaze. “Esyll will not choose me. You cannot force her.”

“Are you certain?”

Hope filled Laith like the dawn. He met Caedhru’s eyes again with an answer on his lips. He didn’t speak it. Caedhru’s dark gaze was not concerned but accusatory.

“I saw you with the Haessu girl when I returned. If you have been ignoring Esyll after having saved her life, she is probably confused. Go and see her.”

“This is not right. Bannyl said she would speak to you.”

“You are my tey’bahl, not Bannyl’s,” Caedhru snapped. “You will do as I say for the good of our people. Go see Esyll before tonight.” Caedhru left the storage without glancing back.

Laith sat in the quiet darkness and watched the light from the door shift with the passing day. Finally, he stood, feeling empty as a hollow log, bereft of hope and life. He could visit Esyll. There was nothing wrong in that. He hadn’t spoken to her since the night of the celebration.

But he knew doing so meant he gave into Caedhru. If he did this, merely visiting Esyll, would he find himself choosing her in two weeks? It was a truth as cold as a frozen stone. And he was uncertain of the answer as he was sure of his hope and peace that morning.

Despite the time he’d spent with Esyll, he didn’t know who had taken her in for the khat’zi. But he knew who would. Laith found Aaindriu in the clearing because that was where the leader of the Tadhg spent his time in Lus na Sithchaine, in the heart of the forest city as if he meant to carve out a place for himself.

Laith shook off his ungrateful thoughts as Aaindriu’s smile brightened at the sight of him. “Why has the tey’bahl of the Sithchaine honored me with his presence?” Aaindriu’s bow and tone danced the line between teasing and seriousness.

“I fear I was looking or Esyll,” Laith admitted. “And not you. Have you seen her?”

Aaindriu craned his neck to peer over the gathering crowd that drifted through the early evening shadows. Laith’s heart constricted. He’d thought it only late afternoon. “She was here a moment ago.” Aaindriu clasped his shoulder before giving him a gentle push. “Try by the stream. Tell her the khat’zi dance may be late tonight as the warriors are hungry, but we will give the youth the clearing soon.”

Aaindriu’s hopeful gaze lingered in Laith’s mind as he walked through the thickening shadows. Two elders, people he respected, urged him to choose Esyll. When he walked around the bend in the path and saw her standing amid a knot of laughing women and men, he paused and watched. Others flocked to Esyll’s light and spirit much as they already did to Shai Bannan. Esyll had power beyond the magic she could summon. More than beauty created an allure to her.

Niyol was respected, but she was equally an outsider for her outspokenness and stubborn mindset. Laith loved it about her because he lacked the fire that drew her forward as if a magnet spinning to the north. But when he tried to imagine Niyol as someone who would support his role as tey’bahl and eventual leader of the Sithchaine, he couldn’t. Not unless she was as well. If he were an elder looking to the future, he might ask his tey’bahl to make a choice not from the heart but for a match that appeared the best.

The group of khat’zi participants waiting for the warriors to finish their feast absorbed Laith as one of its own as he joined them. Rriveag stood to the side, laughing with a girl whose brown hair shaded to mahogany.

“Soon,” he promised when asked about the evening dance. No night of the khat’zi would pass without a chance for the unwed and of age to spend time together. When Laith approached Esyll, she looked away. He swallowed guilt.

Esyll waited until he stood next to her before she spoke quietly to him. “Why are you here?”

“To apologize … and escort you to the dance tonight if you will allow me?”

Esyll looked deeply into his eyes as if reading his soul. He waited patiently under her stare and released a held breath when she nodded. A sad smile flickered over her lips as she took his arm.

“It might be a while yet before the dance,” he warned as she walked away from the crowd.

“It will give us a chance to talk,” she said. Esyll released his arm and sat on a boulder by the stream facing him. “I am sorry for the last time we spoke … I assumed and never gave you a chance to explain.”

Laith searched for words to respond. He’d thought Esyll had guessed the truth of his intentions very well.

She waved away his silence. “Niyol fought to save me, and you battled the karosh to save her. I understand. Caedhru explained. Of course, you would protect Niyol as thanks for saving me.”

Only warrior training kept Laith’s suddenly weak knees from dropping him to the leaves and mud. If he had been speechless before, he was without thought now.

“When did you speak to Caedhru?” Laith asked though he felt like he chewed on embers rather than spoke.

“This afternoon after the warriors returned. The karosh you killed was the same one that was seen near Tadhg before the khat’zi,” Esyll said. “They followed its trail all the way to Lus na Tadhg. Aaindriu blames himself for not having tracked it before the khat’zi.”

“I did not know that,” Laith said honestly. “Caedhru didn’t say when I spoke to him.”

Esyll shrugged. “I like Caedhru. He is kind, kinder than Aaindriu. I think I could be happy here in Lus na Sithchaine.” Esyll blushed as she dropped her gaze. Laith closed his eyes, afraid he stared into his fate.

Somehow half the evening passed as if he walked through a dream of his life, witnessing it without controlling it, before he saw Niyol. She hesitated at the edge of the twirling dancers, perplexed gaze resting on where he stood with Esyll.

Laith glanced at Esyll. She spoke to a friend, attention caught in whispered words and bright glances. He stepped away and met Niyol on the edge of the night-shrouded forest where the lantern bugs barely brightened the moon dark shadows.

“Did you just arrive?” Laith asked. He’d looked for her as he danced with Esyll, but had not seen Niyol until now. He hoped she hadn’t been watching. They sat next to each other on a bench woven of saplings whose leaves hid them from view.

“Yrrah needed my help. There are reports of two karosh near Lus na Haessu, and she asked if I would go back to lead the fighters, but I said no.” Niyol blinked as she paused. She took a short breath before speaking again. The words came rough. “I told her I was here for the khat’zi, that …” Niyol shook her head as she rose. “I guess I was wrong.”

“You are not. I love you,” Laith said the words before he could think, before his mind could remember Caedhru’s plan and stop his heart from speaking.

Niyol blinked away a tear as she sat next to him again. Laith entwined his fingers with hers. “Then why …?”

“Caedhru wants me to choose Esyll. I spend time with her because he will not listen to me when I say I will not marry her.”

Niyol stared at him. Understanding never touched her eyes that became angrier with each passing second. “Is that how much I mean to you? That you’d rather follow Caedhru’s orders no matter how wrong they are, than to do what you feel? I know you care about me just like I care about you.”

Laith looked away from her piercing stare. “He is the elder of my tribe.”

“So yes, you will do as he tells you like you are mindless … and heartless.” Niyol stood. Laith grabbed her hand. She paused at his touch and stared down at him with eyes that glistened with unshed tears. “I will make this easy for you. That isn’t enough for me.” She pulled her hand free and walked into the darkness.

Laith sat in the shadows, alone and with choices once again torn from him.

Niyol was gone in the morning. Yrrah looked at Laith in surprise when he asked about Niyol, her eyes softening with understanding as she took in Laith’s state. He hadn’t slept all night. If he’d felt like the night before he’d been in a dream, now he felt like he wore someone else’s skin and could not make sense of his life.

“I’ll send word you wish to speak to her,” Yrrah promised.

Laith nodded but doubted that would matter. If Niyol did not wish to speak to or see him, she would not.

Days passed. He spent them with Esyll. No longer did they sneak off. Instead, he stayed with her in public only to realize as she sat with her head in his lap that it cemented the perception he would choose her in the minds of the others. No longer did anyone ask Esyll or him to dance. Few approached them when they were together. They were a couple in all eyes but his and when he realized what had happened, it woke him at night as if from a nightmare. Only it was one that grew worse when awake and kept him from sleep.

The third week of the khat’zi slipped by with Laith feeling distant from his life and trapped by the responsibilities he’d once enjoyed.

Rriveag found him as he sat on a swaying branch that jutted over the beach far below as the sun rose above the ocean waves.

“I thought you were afraid of heights,” he said as he handed Laith a cup of tea kept safe by growing the wood of the rim into a solid lid.

The gratitude Laith felt was the first emotion that broke through the fog inside him in days. He moved aside to give Rriveag space, glancing down at the abyss that lay past his feet. “There are worse things than height.” Laith shrugged as he changed the wooden cylinder into a cup again. “It isn’t like I’ll fall. How did you find me?”

Rriveag sat and stared at the glimmering sun that sparked the wave tips to shimmering light. “I know you haven’t been sleeping and where else would someone who can’t sleep be?”

Laith snorted. He almost smiled, but the humor died before it reached his lips. Instead, he stared at the brightening sky and enjoyed the warmth of the mug in his hand.

“When was the last time you’ve eaten?”

Laith hesitated before shaking his head. “I don’t know.”

“I know what Caedhru wants is wrong, but you—”

“I don’t need you to tell me what to do either,” Laith snapped.

Rriveag looked away and took a slow breath. The waves striking the beach far below filled the silence between them.

“You are my friend and always gave me counsel,” Rriveag said. “I want to help you as you’ve aided me.”

Laith gripped his cup tightly. “I’m sorry … I’m tired and not thinking clearly.” He took a sip of the liquid, feeling it warm his throat the way the sun brightened the sky. “So what is your counsel?”

“You could just not go to the dance tonight,” Rriveag suggested.

“I tried that,” Laith admitted. “Esyll came and found me. And if it hadn’t been her, it would have been Caedhru.”

“Do you think Esyll knows of Caedhru’s plans?”

Laith opened his mouth to say no and hesitated. “I don’t know. He could have offered her a place in Lus na Sithchaine much as Aaindriu has offered me one in Lus na Tadhg.”

Rriveag whipped around to face Laith, mouth agape. The tension left him as he studied Laith’s face. “No wonder you are such a mess. I thought it was just because Niyol left.”

Laith gave Rriveag a lopsided smile. “It is mostly that, yeah.” Laith tossed a twig into the abyss below him. “But no choice is better than this.”

“Maybe that is your answer?”

Laith pondered the thought. “Maybe,” he agreed.

He stayed away from Lus na Sithchaine for most of the day. Sleep claimed him at last before midday. Cradled in the branches of a tree, he dreamt of open sky above a vast ship and new horizons that did not threaten to cage him. It gave him the strength to do what he needed.

Laith waited until he knew the elders would be assembled to remind participants in the khat’zi that it was the last week.

“This is the week that you choose. You may begin to do so tonight until the last day.”

The final word of Caedhru’s speech faded as Laith walked through the crowd and approached the platform. For once, he did not step on it to take his place next to Caedhru. Confusion wrinkled Caedhru’s forehead as he held Laith’s eyes.

“You asked me as your tey’bahl to choose Esyll.” Laith paused at the startled ripple that ran through the crowd. Caedhru’s gaze slipped from Laith to the those gathered in the clearing which included hopeful parents as well as those in the khat’zi. Laith’s statement would travel to many and quickly. “I came to tell you that I cannot. You say you made this choice for me for the good of our tribe, but how much good can it do when you ask me to make a choice that will not bring joy and is a bad match? What kind of leadership would I show?”

Before Caedhru could overcome the shock that froze him to his place, Laith turned to Aaindriu and bowed. “I do not think you were aware of Caedhru’s direction to me when you offered me a place as your tey’bahl if I choose Esyll. I think you believed the time we spent together derived from something more. I thank you for the attention you have given me and the place offered, but I cannot accept. I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

Yrrah and Tuama stared at their counterparts in silence that thickened the air. Behind him, Laith heard a woman gasp, and people shift as someone ran from the clearing. The sadness he felt was fleeting. If Esyll truly cared, she would have seen how lost he’d felt the last week. He’d tried to tell her so many times.

Laith took a deep breath and spoke a final time. “It is the right of every Kith to choose who they wed. If the price of being your tey’bahl is to lose this, it is too high.” He turned and left.

Part 8
New Horizons

Bannyl leveled a serious gaze at Laith. “Caedhru will not take you back. If you’d come to me in private, we could have talked … but to have done that.” Bannyl gestured toward the clearing.

Sunlight glowed beyond Bannyl’s mid-tree home. Nestled into the crook of a tree, it felt as stable as one built on the ground. Laith had often loved Bannyl’s home and presence and took her suggestions to heart. But today, they did not stymy him.

Shai Bannan leaned forward. “But Laith Lus has been Caedhru’s tey’bahl for decades. His tree grows in the clearing across from mine.”

Bannyl sighed. “Some things cannot be undone. The tree’s place is one, but being named the successor to an elder is not.”

“Why do the elder’s name their successor and not the people who will be led by them?” Laith asked.

“I’m sure you think the Sithchaine tribe would name you as tey’bahl, possibly leader,” Bannyl snapped. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “All I have dealt with since your speech last night are complaints against Caedhru. I do not think anyone will take his counsel seriously for some time.”

“Then he shouldn’t lead.”

Shai’s wide-eyed gaze made him feel like he’d changed into a karosh in front of her.

“Do not make your place in this tribe as obsolete as your role,” Bannyl warned.

The thread of power slipping through the anger of Bannyl’s words sedated Laith’s continued relief. He dropped his gaze to the table. Bannyl had always been compassionate even if she didn’t change Caedhru’s mind about Esyll. But he could not blame her. In the end, it had been something that was between him and Caedhru. And Laith did not regret the outcome.

He’d feared he would.

Esyll’s desperation to be Fiachra’s tey’bahl again had been part of what stalled Laith from refusing Caedhru’s order. He saw that now. And it did hurt. He wanted to lead the Kith, but not at the cost of his rights or happiness. Esyll hadn’t chosen to lose her place. He offered it willingly to Caedhru and did not begrudge his leader for having taken it away.

“I didn’t mean that,” Bannyl said quietly. “Laith … give this time.”

Laith stood and nodded. “I understand Bannyl. It was a long night with little sleep … I’ve had many recently. I know the aftereffect is not good.” Bannyl opened her mouth to speak, so Laith hurried on. “I do not regret what I did. It had to be done and was my choice to make. As it should be.”

He bowed to both Shai and Bannyl before walking into the sunshine. He had no duties and nowhere he needed to be. It was strange. As tey’bahl, he would have trained the warriors or spoken to the forlorn of the khat’zi who saw the end approaching this week with rebuffed affections or the lack of any. But he wasn’t tey’bahl. Still, there was someone he felt he must apologize to, if she would see him.

Laith avoided Aaindriu to ask where Esyll might be. Instead, he wandered to all likely places, enjoying the freedom to walk as merely a member of the tribe. Someday he might regret not leading, but today he felt joy in the weight he no longer carried. What surprised him was the number of Sithchaine who stopped him and spoke words of praise for his actions and appreciation for the knowledge of what Caedhru attempted.

“But I’d expect nothing less from someone who faced a karosh empty-handed,” said a friend of Laith’s father. It was the first time the adults of the Sithchaine had paid much attention to him. As Caedhru’s tey’bahl, he wouldn’t lead the Sithchaine while most of them lived. But for having made them question their current elder, they now noticed him.

Laith pushed aside the faint hope of a place that came with the praise. The seeds of such ideas would take time and effort to grow.

It took hours, but Laith finally found Esyll sitting alone by the pool where he’d first turned aside her attention. She glanced up from unfocused thoughts at the sound of his footsteps on gravel. When she saw who stood at the edge of the forest, Esyll frowned.

“Why are you here?”

“To say I am sorry.”

She glanced again at his face before looking away. “For some things, you might be, but not for others.”

Laith approached slowly and sat on a boulder a few yards away. He missed her laughter but appreciated this deeper side of Esyll’s personality. He could see them as friends.

“No,” he agreed. “But I am sorry for hurting you. I should have told you of Caedhru’s order on the first day.”

Esyll threw a pebble into the stream. “Yes, you should have … but I know you tried. I didn’t want to hear you. I just want to be tey’bahl again.” She drew her knees to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs before peering at Laith with somber eyes. “And right now I just want the khat’zi to end so I can go home to Lus na Tadhg.”

“Esyll,” Laith stood at the reflection of tears in her eyes.

She looked away. “You’ve done enough, Laith. Leave me alone.”

He stood a moment as Esyll determinedly ignored him. Finally, he accepted there was nothing left to be done and gave Esyll the peace he had craved before he’d halted Caedhru plan.

The final week of the khat’zi felt quieter than most as if his refusal of Esyll and dismissal of his place among the Sithchaine dampened all the youth. The dancing was less intent and the number of couples who chose each other less than other years. Aaindriu avoided Laith as much as Laith avoided Caedhru. Time, he told himself. The rifts and awkwardness would heal in time. He was less sure about his heart.

Laith looked for Niyol every night. He worried about her since she’d left to fight karosh in Lus na Haessu. He wanted to know she was well at least, even if she did not speak to him again. News of her or he’d send a message through Yrrah, Laith promised himself.

“Tonight is the last of the khat’zi,” Tuama led the ceremony for the closing night instead of Caedhru who stood to the side amid the thick shadows of his tree. “Your last time to choose for a year. Think on that and make your choice because when dawn comes, you will have no others to make.”

Tightness raced through Laith at the words, bringing with it a longing he’d thought he’d accepted as impossible. He jumped as a hand touched his arm.

“If you are ready to choose and Niyol isn’t, I am ready.” Esyll stood next to him as she leaned forward to speak quietly. “It isn’t too late to undo what you’ve caused. I’ve had time to think about it today. We could be a good match.”

Laith rested his hand on hers. Her smile grew in brightness. “I understand your passion, Esyll. But if you think it is that easy then you do not respect what it is I feel … or the choice I have already made.”

Laith turned from her as her face paled and her hand fell away. No choice was better than a forced one. It was the bargain he’d made. Repairing what had been said between him and Niyol might not happen, but at least he stayed true to his feelings. He swallowed hard and left the dancing behind. Tonight he did not feel the relief the end of the khat’zi usually brought. He felt empty and alone.

“Are you leaving the khat’zi before it is over?”

Niyol’s voice stopped Laith in the darkness beyond the lingering glow from the brightly lit central clearing. He shut his eyes as he exhaled. He believed wholly when he turned, Niyol wouldn’t be standing there. But she was. And she looked to have only just arrived.

Her usual shortened and slit dress over leggings showed streaks of grime. Mud splashed as high as her knees on one leg. Under her intense eyes, a thin scratch marred her cheek.

“You were hurt?” Laith asked as he walked to her.

She greeted him by placing her hands in his one while he traced the new scab with his fingertips with his free hand. She leaned into his touch.

“Not as much as I felt when I left Lus na Sithchaine.”

“Niyol, I—”

She silenced him with fingertips against his lips. “You told me the truth. I was hurt, but I should have walked away and not left. I regretted I couldn’t tell you I understood in the morning. And then we were fighting the karosh, and I just wanted to finish that before the khat’zi ended, so I could come back.”

“It looks like you managed that… barely,” he raised an eyebrow at her soiled clothing.

Niyol blushed, which made Laith smile. Tears glazed her eyes as she ducked her head to rest her forehead against his chest. Laith slid his arms around her waist and held her for only the second time. His heart fluttered.

“I should have come back sooner,” Niyol said hoarsely. “We barely have had a chance to get to know each other, and then I left when I should have listened.”

“I know I love you, that hasn’t changed.”

Niyol started up at him in surprise that melted into a smile. He dipped his head slowly toward her’s, brushing her lips more than kissing. Niyol trembled in his arms before leaning into him and pressing her lips against his.

Laith lost all sense of time and place until Niyol finally pulled away. She laughed quietly. “I wanted to do that since we first met, but then I thought you were with Esyll.” Worry flickered over Niyol’s face. “I protected Esyll against the karosh because I thought you loved her,” she admitted. “I didn’t want to see you hurt.”

Laith kissed her forehead. “I know you. You would have protected her if she were your worst enemy.”

“True … though I might have yelled at her a bit more to get out of the things way.”

Laith laughed with a joy he hadn’t felt in weeks.

“Did you really give up being tey’bahl? Yrrah sent word,” Niyol explained. Laith nodded. “I’m sorry. Sorry that I wasn’t here and that Caedhru would ask that of you. If you hadn’t met me …” She looked away.

“I would have made the same choice. I don’t love Esyll. I will not be forced to choose someone I don’t love. It was worth giving up being tey’bahl to have that.”

“You should have both.” Niyol rose to toes and lightly kissed his lips. “Now what will you do?”

“It is the last night of the khat’zi. It isn’t too late for us this year … but only if you are ready.”

Niyol stepped back, sliding her hand along his arms to hold his. “That is why I am here, even if not dressed for the occasion. I love you.”

Laith followed Niyol back to the dancing. They walked through the swirling dancers, who parted around them or stumbled to a halt to allow them the path to the platform beneath the great tree.

When they reached the clear space, Niyol turned toward Laith. “Before my family and our friends, I choose you.”
Warmth washed through Laith. “Before my family and our friends, I choose you.” Niyol was laughing when he kissed her.

—

“I will look for you in Lus na Haessu,” Tuama said to Laith.

Yrrah hugged Niyol. “We are happy to welcome you both.” Yrrah glanced at Laith over Niyol’s head before releasing her. “When you are ready, of course.”

“I heard there are powerful Elementals on the Island of Kailal when I was on the archipelago,” Niyol said as she returned to Laith’s side. “I would like to meet them.”

“I will watch your tree,” Yrrah promised.

“And I yours.” Rriveag offered Laith his arm. “I will miss you,” Rriveag said hoarsely as Laith clasped Rriveag’s forearm and then pulled him into a hug.

“And I you. Be careful of Caedhru,” Laith said into Rriveag’s ear. “Hopefully he will not ask of you what he did of me.”

Rriveag squeezed Laith’s shoulder before releasing him. “I will give him the same answer as you. It shouldn’t be me named as tey’bahl of the Sithchaine.”

“There is no one else who deserves it more,” Laith replied.

“Yes, there is: you.” Rriveag shook his head when Laith went to speak. “You will be back. I will never be elder of the Sithchaine. I just feel that is so. It is the only reason I said yes and can bear it,” he added with a lopsided smile.

Nervousness tingled across Laith’s skin mixed with worry for his friend. But Niyol, his wife, took his arm and smiled. “Are you ready to see the world, my love?” she asked.

“As long as I am with you.” He followed Niyol down the wharf made of a tree root to the waiting boat without a backward glance.

Quick Glossary of Words & People

Aaindriu: The male elder of the Tadhg tribe.

Bannyl: The female elder of the Sithchaine tribe.

Esyll: The former tey’bahl to Fiachra. Now her status has been reduced to a member of Fiachra’s kahl’vil from who the successor to leadership of the Tadhg will be chosen.

Ceadhru: The male elder of the Sithchaine tribe.

Fiachra: The female elder of the Tadhg tribe.

Haessu: The smallest of the three Kith tribes.

Kahl’vil: Potentials for a successor. This is an informal status created by Aaindriu, the leader of the Tadhg tribe, after his chosen tey’bahl broke Kith law and married outside of the khat’zi. In disappointment, he decided that good judgement is as important to a successor as power (usually the most important trait). So Aaindriu gathered all the powerful youth in a group as a potential to be named a tey’bahl at some point in the future.

Kaht’zi: A month long time of choosing for those of age to marry in the Kith society. Once a year, the three Kith tribes come together in this month-long rite of passage. This month is the only time a Kith can choose a spouse. Kith can choose a spouse from the age of 55.

Karosh: Power-eater. A mostly scaled creature that stands approximately twenty-feet at full growth. It has a curved beak, narrow but sharp eyes, four legs with hooked talons, and a long, flattened tail with sharp edges to the scales. A ring of feathers around its head creates a main and there are a scattering of feathers along its legs. It doesn’t consume blood, flesh, or bone but eats magic.

Kith: A human like race of people whose souls are tied to a sapling at birth. They live as long as their tree, which is frequently at least six centuries. Their skin resembles bark as if they are tattooed, each with a unique pattern. Hair color is any natural color, but not usually blonde or black. Eye color is rarely blue but usually shades of brown, green, and gold.

Laith Lus: The tey’bahl of Ceadhru, who is male leader of the Sithchaine people. He has been of age to marry for eight years.

Lus na Haessu: Literally, “home of the Haessu.” This is the village of the Haessu people and is the western most as well as smallest village of the Kith. It lies on the edge of the forest and the frozen grasslands to the west.

Lus na Sithchaine: Literally, “home of the Sithchaine.” This is the village of the Sithchaine People. It is also the southern most of the three village and has the largest trees along with a central clearing that is the gathering place for social events.

Lus na Tadhg: Literally, “home of the Tadhg.” This is the village of the Tadhg people.

Niyol: The tey’bahl of Yrrah, who is the female leader of the Haessu tribe.

Shai Bannan: The tey’bahl of Bannyl, who is the female leader of the Sithchaine tribe. Shai is too young to wed and she is a gifted healer.

Sithchaine: The oldest and largest tribe and village of the Kith people.

Tadhg: The second largest village and tribe of the Kith people. It is to the north of Lus na Sithchaine and along the shore.

Tey’bahl: successor, a formal position where the tey’bahl of a Kith elder is presumed to be the next leader on the elder’s death. A Tey’bahl is usually selected due to the strong magic manifesting in a youth. There are two for each tribe, one for the female elder and one for the male.

Tuama: The male elder of the Haessu tribe

Yrrah: The female elder of the Haesseu tribe.