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when he died. He had imagined it would be a grand stone, one that would outshine all of those around it, but now... Now he would be leaving behind a shadow, a silhouette, and it shamed him that he had allowed such a thing to happen.
    There was one small consolation—he had feared that the stone and the abilities it granted had been permanently damaged, but when he had returned to Radiskoye he found that he could sense Saphia, his mother, and she in turn could sense him. He had no doubts, however, that when he traveled beyond a certain distance their mutual bond would attenuate and then vanish altogether.
    “Why only children?” Nikandr asked.
    “I cannot say. The hezhan are drawn to certain people, perhaps as they are drawn to the Aramahn. But that spirit, even though it had fully crossed, appeared dim to me, as if I were looking through a pane of dusty glass. The hezhan that crossed today, I saw it as bright as a full moon against the midnight sky.”
    “You were young then. Inexperienced.”
    The rook’s head dipped and craned upward. “ Da , but I do not think that was the cause. Things have been strange these last few years, Nischka. The fishing, the fields, the game—all struck by the blight longer and harder than we could have imagined. And at the same time the wasting grows worse. Perhaps this crossing is but another facet of the same jewel.”
    Nikandr stared levelly at the rook, wondering if she had guessed his mind. He suspected that the hezhan attacked him because of the disease. After all, there were others on the ship with soulstones. Why not them? He alone had the wasting, and his symptoms had intensified the moment the hezhan had been summoned. There must be some sort of connection. But he could not voice his concerns no matter how burning they might be. His shame at hiding the disease for so long was too great.
    The door opened, and in stepped his father, Iaros. He wore an embroidered kaftan the color of emeralds that ran down to his ankles. The tips of his silk slippers poked out from beneath the hem. His beard hung down to his chest and, like his hair, had only a token amount of the brown color that had not long ago been dominant. His soulstone, glowing faintly beneath his beard, seemed mocking.
    Father nodded in greeting and paced over to the perch, holding out one finger. The rook ran its beak along his finger several times, and then he smoothed down the rook’s breast feathers.
    These signs of affection were reserved for Mother; there were none for Nikandr as he stared down gravely. “The ship is in bad shape, Nischka.”
    “There was nothing I could have done.”
    “You could have stayed the course given to you.”
    “I told you—”
    “ Da , Borund requested that you shorten the tour, no doubt so you could go drinking in Volgorod. Council is being held on Khalakovo, if you’ll recall, and the Gorovna is still our property until your wedding day.”
    “We might not have found the Maharraht.”
    “You confuse the relationship. It was they that found you .”
    “How could they have known?”
    “Stop being so naïve, Nikandr. They have spies , here and everywhere else. The Gorovna’s maiden voyage has been common knowledge in two duchies for more than a season. Now Gravlos tells me it will be weeks before repairs are completed.”
    “I don’t think they were spies.” Nikandr stood and looked out through the nearby windows to the cloudy sky beyond. To the west, less than a league away from where he stood, one of Khalakovo’s most powerful warships, watching for the Maharraht, slid into a low bank of clouds and was lost from view. In the forest below, Jahalan was at the site of the hezhan’s crossing, examining it for any evidence that might prove useful. “I think they chose the location for a particular reason.”
    “What reason might that be?”
    Nikandr shrugged. “That’s what I mean to find out.” He pulled the necklace over his head and made to leave.
    “Do not show that