Five days into his search, exhausted and dehydrated, a disoriented Jaison turned his ankle on some loose rocks. He stumbled forward several steps then slammed his face into the dry ground peppered with wind-smoothed pebbles. He looked at his bloody palms with resigned weariness then dropped his forehead on one wrist. “What do you want from me?” he rasped, throat parched. “Is this my punishment for leaving Desantiva? You want me dead? There had to be faster ways than this.”

“Do not be silly, boy,” a lilting voice whispered. “Your sire guided you true. A gift to the Timeless One, you were. To give a modicum of stability to Her until His children healed from their wounds.” He raised his head, frowning as he tried to focus on the figure crouched near and watching him. He blinked in an attempt to clear the blurriness of grays and red-oranges. “Fortunate you were sent, too. Our lord father did not know it would be protecting one of his favorite daughter’s bloodline.”

Jaison struggled to push himself up, the stranger not moving to aid him. He fell to his elbows several times before he managed to get to his knees, hands painfully pressing into the pebbled ground to keep himself up. “Who…are you?” He started to reach for his quarterstaff, but he nearly toppled when he removed one hand of support.

“Senigu.” The hermaphroditic being covered in gray feathers save for brilliant flame reds along the sides of its head and back. It tilted its head as it studied him. “You will die soon if you do not find water, boy.”

All Jaison’s irritation could muster was a frown. “I know. I can’t find any. Unless you have some to offer, go away and let me die in peace.”

Senigu tsked and shook its head. “And what would you learn from charity?”

“More than I would if I die,” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes with the back of one hand, shaking his head in a vain attempt to clear his mind.

“Hm. You do have a point, boy.” Senigu put a soft hand under Jaison’s chin, tilting his face up and putting the smooth edge of a shallow cup to his mouth. The moment the liquid touched his sun-parched lips, the desperate man’s attention focused completely on the water. After several greedy swallows, Senigu took the cup away. “There. Now you will not die. Not right away, at least.”

Jaison reached out as Senigu took the water. “Wait!” His eyes went wide when they focused on the bird-like being crouched across from him. “…Senigu?” With a tilt of the head and bright smile, the Totani nodded. “What…are you?”

It laughed and shrugged. “You mean my beast side?” Jaison drew back instinctively as the Totani’s form melted to reform into a bird with a longer neck and a wide wingspan. Soft grays patterned its body, the top of its head and edges of its wings and tail feathers fiery reds. I am called a firebrand, but only because of my coloring. A little misleading, unfortunately.

“I thought…firebrands lived along the ocean coasts. Mother used to tell me about them before...” He looked away, a pang of heartache for his long lost parent.

They do. Most live on small islands just off the coast of our great father’s territory. There is sadly not nearly as much water in Desantiva as there had once been. Golden brown eyes blinked once as it studied Jaison. What bothers you, boy? Aside from the physical ails. I can tell your heart aches. Why?

“You’re here to give me my adult name, aren’t you?”

Perhaps. I am not sure you are ready.

Jaison raised his eyes, frowning. “Not ready? What in the hells do I need to do?” He gestured to the harsh landscape. “I have wandered around alone for days, not having any idea what I’m supposed to do. My food and water are gone. I couldn’t find my way back to my tribe now if I wanted. The longer I’m gone, the more they worry. Though they try to hide it. Especially Storm. I don’t want to cause her to stress so much. She has enough with her pregnancy and leading the tribe.

“And now I’ve found a Totani and I still won’t get my name?” His shoulders sagged wearily. “What is the point of this trial?”

Technically, I found you. The man scowled, hands curling into fists as they rested on his thighs. And the point is to know yourself. Jaison looked up, perplexed. You were told different?

“Storm said…I had to feel the heart of the land and the land had to feel mine.” He turned away in anguish. “I don’t feel a part of anything here. I am still an outsider.”

Do you feel nothing because you cannot or because you are afraid doing so will smother your Vodani half? Senigu moved closer, angling its head to catch Jaison’s eyes. There is no shame in wishing to honor both halves of your heritage. In wishing to hold onto the parts both parents gifted you. Even young Aelia will say family is perhaps the most vital bond that exists. Especially more when those before us are gone.

“But she is the one who said I had to give up the Vodani in me to fully become Desanti.”

Ah. If she said that, then she was either confused herself or this life’s bias has seeped in and she forgot the lessons she had taught the rest of us Totani when she was one of us. Senigu ruffled its wings, the gesture reminiscent of a shrug. Or you misunderstood her. Always a possibility. More and more each life she has lived, she speaks less and acts more. A troublesome change. Its form changed back to the bestial man. “But that is irrelevant to you. You must know who and what you are. And what you are not. You are not Desanti.”

“Please, Senigu,” Jaison begged, a tear escaping his closed eyes. “What must I do to be accepted as Desanti? If I fail, Storm will be the last na’Zhekali. I can’t abandon her. Not after everything she—”

“I misspoke.” Gentle fingers touched his wet cheek. “You are not only Desanti. Within you beats not only Desantiva’s heart, but Vodanya’s as well. Vodanya is not lesser than our great father. Only younger.” Jaison looked up to meet its eyes. “Your father loved your mother. Not in spite of her heritage, but because of it. She was a warrior in her own way, very strong, very beautiful, and she won a Githalin Swordanzen’s heart. Not an easy thing to accomplish, believe me.

“You need not purge yourself of Vodanya. Indeed, it would kill you if you tried. It nearly has.” Cupping Jaison’s cheek, it stated, “I gave you enough water so you would not die so soon. But now you must find your own water so you will live to return to your tribe.”

“How?” Jaison rasped, trembling as much from frustration as fatigue. “I have searched but—”

Senigu hushed him with a gentle touch. “Desantiva’s children are gifted in seeing and sensing life. Vodanya’s are gifted in hearing and feeling the world’s whispers.” It repeated, “Know who and what you are. Your strengths and weaknesses. Your gifts and lacks. Accept them. Embrace them.”

Jaison clenched his teeth to keep from screaming or trying to hit Senigu. He quieted his mind and sought out calm. In that stillness, memories of his childhood in Desantiva with his parents, precious few as they were in his long life as a Guardian of Time, drifted into his consciousness. He remembered the days they traveled with his father Hunter. His mother teaching him how to listen for water. And how to call it.

He blinked when he realized the quiet whisper he heard was not only his memory. All but forgetting Senigu’s presence, he stumbled to his feet. He fell several times, but was heedless of that as he collapsed to his knees at the spot the sound came from. He brushed dirt away until a shallow depression of rock was exposed.

He leaned down and put his ear near the cleaned place. Trembling, he closed his eyes in concentration, humming a song he heard his mother hum so many times in his childhood. Water seeped up through cracks in the rock, filling the bowl-like hollow. He greedily scooped water with his hands to drink.

After several handfuls of water and his desperation quelled, he stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He flushed in embarrassment for his lack of respect. “Senigu, forgive me, I—”

“Forgive you? For what?” Jaison followed its gesture toward the tiny pool of water. The man’s eyes went wide as an elegant knife formed in the pool, the image of a firebrand on the hilt. As he put his hand on it, he felt a wash of calm flow over and through him. “You have found yourself at last, young Jaison. Welcome home.”

“‘Jaison’? You are not changing my name?”

“No, Jaison. There is no need. Your name was found by your mother through Vodani traditions.” It smiled as it retook the avian form again. All the knife signifies is your acceptance of Desantiva’s heart, and His of yours. Now go back to your tribe. Remember what you have learned.

“Senigu!” The Totani paused, poised to take flight. “May I ask…are you male or female? I do not wish to speak of you with disrespect by calling you…‘it.’”

Melodious laughter echoed through his mind as the firebrand took flight. Both. Neither. Does it matter? I love all equally, regardless of form or gender. The same heart beats within us all. But if you must know, ask young Aelia. She knows. She recognized with a child’s clarity and innocence what many adults need relearn.

Jaison watched the Totani fly up, then vanish with a soft clap of thunder. He remained lost in thought as he filled his depleted water skin. Whispering his gratitude for the life-saving water to both Desantiva and Vodanya, he dragged himself to his feet. He staggered to an outcropping of rock to take shelter from the brutal sun and collapsed there in exhaustion.

TAYLIN RAISED A hand to block the wild swing from the pregnant woman. “Storm il’Thandar!” the healer scolded, her hands on her hips. “Get a hold of your temper and relax. You are worrying yourself sick. It is not doing you or your babies any good.”

Green-gold eyes flashed as she turned, holding a finger in front of Taylin’s nose. “You cannot tell me what to do. You are not Alanis!”

Ash stepped between the women, putting his hands on Storm’s arms. “But I am.” He held her upper arms in a firm grip, keeping her from turning away. “I know you are worried about Jaison. We all are. But you need to stop focusing on it.”

“And do what?” she demanded, pulling herself free. “I cannot train. I cannot ride. Izkynder and I have sorted every pebble within a measure of the shelter.”

“Not quite. I think you missed five over there,” Nolyn offered. He grunted when Star elbowed him in the ribs while the boy jumped up to find the alleged missing rocks and called, “You’re wrong! There are only three we missed here, Uncle Nolyn!” He brought them back, displaying them in his palms triumphantly.

Ash blocked Storm with an arm when she took a step toward the other mage, her fists balled with full intention to pummel him. “Do not mock me!”

“He isn’t. He is teasing you,” Ash explained with fixed patience. “This is why you must relax. You are being irrational.” He added when she turned her ire on him, “Irrational for you. You are nearly always irrational to me.”

“I am not irrational! If anything happens to him, it will be my fault. He is my responsibility. His life was fine before I cemented his bayuli-volsha. I was his Alanis alone before you joined me. There might have been more I could have done.” Her words slowed, growing lethargic as Mureln quietly played his mandolin. Ash put his arms around her as she fell asleep against him.

“Thank you,” he said softly as he carefully got his lifemate into his arms and carried her over to their sleeping place. With Lyra’s aid, they arranged her into as comfortable position as they could manage.

“It won’t last long,” Mureln stated, keeping his eyes on the strings as he continued. “She will probably wake up within an hour. You and she are both impossible for my efforts to keep asleep for long.”

“Anything will help.” Ash’s expression fractured a little, his worry showing as he caressed her hair. “She is becoming more erratic. It isn’t like her. Not like this. If I knew she would react to pregnancy so poorly…”

“It is not the pregnancy. It is the strain of her imperfect bond to Thandar,” Star said in a low voice. Terrence looked up from reading one of Avarian’s journals, a slight frown creasing his brow. “Citali says if she did not have the tribal bond, she would have gone insane already. It helps stabilize her, but it is only delaying the inevitable.”

“She is going to get worse?” The delicate woman lowered her eyes, nodding without a word. He exhaled, looking away as he hid his fists inside his sleeves as he stood, back stiff. “We need to find Thandar. Everything will be for naught if we lose Aelia.”

All at once, everyone sharing the na’Zhekali bayuli-volsha reacted to a change in the bond, the emotions that had reverberated with Jaison’s fear, anger, and frustration abruptly changed quality. Even Storm, in her somnolent state, relaxed perceptibly. They exchanged looks of confusion. “What happened?” Bella demanded. “Is something wrong with Jaison?”

“No,” Skyfire replied with a relieved smile. “Something is right with him. He has earned his place as an adult within the tribe.”

The Vodani woman’s eyes brightened. “He has?” She went over to get her crossbow. “We have to go find him!”

“No. He must still return on his own,” Skyfire stated. “It is as much a part of the trial as gaining the knife.”

Bella waved her good arm toward the wastes. “But he only took rations for three days. It’s been five! If you know he’s succeeded, why not try finding him to bring him back?”

“It is for the tribe’s safety. For someone to leave to seek food or water, to scout ahead of the tribe while on the move. It all risks lives.” Skyfire waved a hand. “We do not know where he went. Others could be lost in addition to him. Or he returns alone and the tribe’s numbers dwindle needlessly because those seeking him do not return.”

Seeker rose, sliding his weapons away. “I will find him.” He grinned toothily. “I have always been good at finding things. I will return with your mate, Dusvet Bella.”

Bella’s cheeks flushed. “Mate?! He’s not my—! I mean, we are just—” She sighed and shook her head. “Oh, never mind.” The others chuckled as Seeker whistled. In moments, his drizzen skidded to a stop just in front of him. “Thank you.”

“Thank me when I return,” he stated after securing the beast’s tack and mounting. “After I have found him and returned him to you.”

She looked up with a small smile. “I am thanking you for going in the first place.”

He shrugged one shoulder as the drizzen shifted with his tugging the reins. “I do it because it will please Githalin Storm to have her tlisan back, and that will keep her and her children safer. But you are welcome, nevertheless.” With that, he spurred his mount into the desert.

She put her good hand on her hip, blowing at a tendril of hair from the corner of her mouth, grinning. “One thing a Desanti can’t be faulted for is not saying exactly what they mean.”

IT WAS NOT until hours later, the sky painted in numerous colors as the sun set, when the drizar called out. Those inside the shelter emerged with cautiously hopeful expressions. Seeker turned to the rider behind him while they were still several measures away, nodded, and thumped the drizzen’s shoulder to lower herself to the ground.

Jaison dismounted and stood to face his tribe. He favored one leg as he limped toward them. Ash and Tyrsan rushed to meet him, lending him their shoulders for support.

“You look like hell,” Tyrsan pointed out in conversational tones, his relief to see the younger Dusvet again obvious in tone, touch, and tribal bond.

Jaison laughed tiredly. “Oh, good. I look better than I feel. I was worried.”

Ash chuckled, shaking his head. “We have a celebration meal waiting for you. Do you think you’re up for it?”

“And deprive the tribe of a reason to celebrate? Psh.” He winked. “I would never do such a thing.” His smile faded. “Is Storm…?”

The mage looked forward, lips thinning to a line. “The babies are fine, according to Taylin. She is…” His expression reflected his desperation in finding a suitable word. He exhaled. “She needs to find Thandar. Soon.”

Jaison closed his eyes. “Forgive me for taking so long to figure things out.”

“You figured it out.” Ash’s voice was firm as he glanced at the other man. “And you returned to us. That is what is important.”

The tribe waited for him to be closer to the shelter before they surrounded him. They made a space for Bella as the Vodani woman stepped up to him. She looked into his eyes for several long moments before she put her arm around him, kissing him soundly. Tyrsan stepped aside for her to take his place. “Come on. Storm is waiting for you.”

Several rocks had been brought in and covered with a hide to serve as a makeshift table. Small balls of magelight hovered on sticks that had been propped up to resemble candles. Shallow plates held meat and some other food things that had been gathered from the oasis. They led Jaison to the place by Storm before taking their seats, Bella beside Jaison, Ash across from him.

“Alanis.” Jaison lowered his eyes. “Forgive me for taking so long to return.” He could not conceal all of his alarm seeing how worn she looked, the circles under her eyes and sickly color to her complexion.

“Let me see your knife,” she requested with an air of formality. He placed it, sheath and all, in her outstretched hand. Silence fell on the group as they watched her examine it.

Green-gold eyes studied the firebrand image for several moments, rubbing her thumb over it. A pang of homesickness flickered across the tribal bond. “Senigu. Fitting.” He put his hand out to take the blade back. She did not release it immediately, clasping his hand with both of hers. “Do not apologize. Earning your Naming Blade takes as long as it takes. You succeeded. Take pride in that.”

Bella sat a cup of water by his plate as Storm released him. “Here. Drink. You must be dying of thirst.”

He chuckled. “I was for a while. But I learned I can still be my mother’s son as much as my father’s.” Those around the table laughed, more out of relief for his return than understanding what he meant. Eventually, focus left Jaison and went to Mureln as he entertained the others with song and story.

Jaison bit his lip and leaned close to Storm. “Please do not think me rude, but may I ask…what gender is Senigu?”

“Was Senigu red and gray or blue and green?”

Jaison blinked in confusion. Neither he nor Storm noticed the mages looking over out of curiosity. “It matters?”

Storm nodded, sipping her water. “Red and gray means she was female. Blue and green means he was male. Father said firebrands are a more chaotic creature, changing gender when it suits them.”

“Does it depend if there are more of one gender available?” Ash asked.

Storm blinked at him, taking a moment to understand his question. She shook her head. “No. Firebrands pair for life. They sometimes both switch from season to season to take turns between siring and nesting. Sometimes, they are both male, or both female, caring for the chicks of pairs lost or broken.” She shrugged. “Senigu never told me if there was a reason for which genders they took or preferred. They just accept one another for who the other is, not what.”

Jaison held the knife in his hands, rubbing his thumb across the avian image on the hilt. “Acceptance. I like that.” As he affixed the knife to his belt, he noticed Storm put a hand to her swollen belly from the corner of his eye. He reached out to her enough to gain her attention, but not alert the others. She glanced up at him. “Are you all right, Storm? Really all right?”

She did not answer right away, expression pensive. “We will be leaving the day after tomorrow. Get all the rest you need to recover from your trial while the others gather as much as we dare take for our supplies.” She grimaced, managing to get to her feet without aid. Lyra jumped up to walk with her back to the sleeping area. The jovial mood dampened a fraction as the others watched Storm leave their company.