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said.
    “Wait!” Telai commanded. Everyone turned their heads. “Aren’t we forgetting someone?”
    Soren shook his head. “Caleb Stenger cannot go, Telai.”
    She slapped her hand on the table. “He has lost his only child, Soren! He has every right to go on this quest.”
    Shocked silence followed, and she glimpsed the disappointment in Acallor’s face. She had committed a serious breach of protocol to speak thus to the Supreme Raén, especially in council.
    A gentle touch diverted her attention. “Indeed he has a right,” Allera murmured. “So do you, I think. Or is your wish to save this boy any less than his father’s?”
    The veined and wrinkled hand felt so soft and warm against her own. Yet it took courage to meet Allera’s fading sight—eyes that had witnessed so much more of life, slowly gathering the wisdom to accept what she could not change.
    The old woman smiled, kindness wrapped in wrinkles. “Let Caleb Stenger remain, Telai. Let him help both Ada and his son the best way he knows how.”
    By now many in the assembly were shifting in their seats. Telai dared not speak to end their discomfort. The next word might send her over the edge and make a complete spectacle of herself.
    At last Homim stood to draw their attention. “If there are no more objections, let Telai and Tenlar depart the second morning hence. I would offer them a longer stay, of course, but Ada’s last hope far transcends hospitality. The sooner they begin, the less chance our enemies will discover it.”
    ♦
    Telai was the first to leave, anxious to escape their whispers and incriminating stares. She crossed the high, open walkway to the central tower, her arms wrapped close and her lips tight with choler. She had never dreamed of going on such a journey, especially without Caleb. Tenlar was the worst possible choice her father could have made. Now she was trapped by an obligation that forced her to abandon Caleb when he needed her the most, spending days upon days with a man she no longer loved—a constant reminder of what she might lose again.
    Yet to the Master Raén of Ada, Tenlar was the best possible choice, and as she entered the tower and wound her way down the stairs she tried her best to accept it. The true threat to her happiness had nothing to do with Soren, or anyone else at the council. Her people needed her as much as Caleb did, and she had to embrace that duty with all her heart. When healed of mind and body, Caleb must do the same.
    She found him fast asleep in a lower chamber of the infirmary. Eya sat quietly in a chair nearby. She smiled warmly, then rose to leave as Telai seated herself on the edge of Caleb’s bed.
    His arms lay outside the blankets, with his right one, closest to her, wrapped in a clean white bandage. Though his color had improved somewhat, exhaustion still darkened the hollow of his eyes. For a long while she sat nearby, her hands restless in her lap, fighting the urge to hold him again.
    In time she rose carefully and took Eya’s seat by the window. Occasionally she would turn to see if Caleb had stirred or awakened. All else was blocked from her mind, until someone clearing their throat interrupted her thoughts.
    A young man stood at the door. “It’s good to see you safe and sound, my lady,” he said, bowing.
    Telai sat frozen, mouth agape. “Yoté!” she cried, and rushed from her chair to hug him.
    He placed a hand lightly against her back, ever self-conscious about being too familiar. Telai began weeping softly against his shoulder, then quickly stepped back and wiped her tears, wearing a self-deprecating smile. The man looked on the verge of running out the door.
    “I’m sorry, Yoté. You just caught me off guard. I’ll be sure not to inflict that on you again!”
    He offered another of his formal nods. “Whatever serves you best, my lady.”
    “But what are you doing here? I sent you to Ekendoré with that coin—the one I used to find Caleb and Warren.”
    “I’m