Trevn

The day after Wilek’s coronation, Sâr Trevn’s expedition left Armanguard. It was the first day of the first month of what would have been the season of stormmer back home in Armania. In Er’Rets it was the height of spring. Tiny leaves had budded and bloomed on once-barren trees and bushes. Flowers blossomed. Grass sprouted, bright and thick. This new world was an uprising of color. For Trevn it was yet another reminder of how much time had passed since he’d last seen Mielle.

Left to himself he would have marched across mountain and valley to find her, but so far he’d followed his brother’s leadings, and Wilek was cautious. Short explorations hadn’t been enough, and even now Wilek had pushed back against Trevn’s desire to travel west, where he knew Mielle was. Wilek feared his eventually meeting up with the Magonians or Rogedoth’s army, so Trevn had agreed to sail the Seffynaw up the eastern coast. He would either circle the continent and come upon her from the north or cut across the interior of the land at some point.

Trevn did not sail as captain or crew member but as a sâr of Armania heading up an official expedition. He had wanted to take a smaller ship, but Wilek had insisted upon the Seffynaw, convinced that a bigger ship would give the small party an illusion of strength. The expedition consisted of Trevn and his staff; Kempe; Maleen; Captain Bussie and a smaller crew of sailors, including Nietz, Bonds, Shinn, and Rzasa; explorer Rost Keppel and his team of scholars and assistants; and a squadron of fifty soldiers—all outfitted in uniforms that had been modified to display the circle of five Nesher heads, Armania’s new insignia.

Though Trevn was eager to find Mielle, Wilek had also entrusted him with the arduous task of mapping the coastline—a sly decision. Trevn’s love of maps might be the only thing able to distract his mind from his true objective. He instructed Captain Bussie to sail the Seffynaw slowly up the coast, stopping once a day so that the explorers might gather samples or make illustrations of plant and animal life. Trevn went along on these excursions, eager to look around, though he kept in constant communication with Mielle, telling her about everything he saw. Besides his own sketches of maps, trees, and animals, Trevn’s journal was filled with facts and stories about the pale nomads Mielle was getting to know.

Three days into the journey Captain Bussie anchored the ship in a cove, and Trevn ordered a team to go ashore and explore. While the men prepared the boats for launch, Trevn saw Kempe on the main deck and decided to have a word. The elderly maid was no taller than his half sister Hrettah, was small boned, and had more wrinkles than a prune. Her teeth were white, and she was nearly always smiling, which made her eyes seem to glitter.

“Sâr Trevn, good morning,” she said in her silvery voice. “The waves are raucous today. Tell your men to use a sea anchor to keep the dinghies from capsizing.”

The woman mothered everyone, but she did so with such kindness and a smile that Trevn never minded. “You are wise, madam. Please keep me posted should anything go wrong on board.”

“Certainly, Your Highness. Rest well in Captain Bussie’s competence. He will take good care of your ship.”

Trevn left her and, by late midday, set out with the explorers. The men did indeed use sea anchors as they made their landfall. Trevn spent some time exploring the coast, but a forest of ridiculously tall trees beckoned him farther inland. He had never seen anything like them. The sun cut through the long trunks like spears of light, and he felt like an ant in a patch of dandelions. Trevn and Ottee had been attempting to climb the trees, with Cadoc keeping watch, when one of the soldiers brought the message that Master Keppel had made a discovery.

They found the elderly explorer’s team at the top of a rocky incline, standing in the narrow end of a conical hole in the ground that appeared to be the entrance to a steep cave. Trevn wasted no time climbing down the large boulders at the cave’s mouth. When he reached the explorers at the bottom, he found them in the midst of a heated debate.

“We will never learn where it goes unless we go in!” Master Keppel yelled, his face flushed. The head explorer’s round face and belly and stumpy arms and legs gave him the appearance of a quill pig, and he had a temper to match.

“Go in if you like, master, but I will not.” This from Lanton Jahday, Keppel’s assistant. The young man had golden eyes, a flat nose, and shoulder-length braids.

“You dare defy my command?” his master said.

“It is too risky,” Jahday replied. “With the hour so late in the day, the tide could come in and trap us.”

“You know as well as I do that the tide will not again reach its height for another two to three hours. You see clearly a worn path that leads down,” Keppel snapped, pointing inside the cave. “That is a sign of life. Someone or something has traveled this way many times to create such a trail. You will be perfectly safe. Bring back your report in an hour or two.”

“Are you unwilling to go yourself, Master Keppel?” Trevn asked.

The man’s eye twitched. “I am in the middle of documenting some coral, Your Highness. This is why I have assistants, so that we can cover more ground in less time than one man could manage alone.”

“I will accompany you, Master Jahday,” Trevn said, intrigued by the cave.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Master Keppel said.

A surprising contradiction. “It’s safe for your man but not for me?” Trevn asked.

The head explorer pursed his lips. His eye twitched again.

“You have no objection, then?” Trevn asked.

Keppel shook his head and shockingly said nothing.

“I have an objection, Your Highness,” Jahday said. “The tide—”

“Has a good two hours before it comes in,” Trevn said. “Your concern is noted.” He walked into the dark mouth of the cave. “Ottee, fetch me a lantern.”

“Your Highness, wait,” Jahday said. “Let us do this properly.”

And so Trevn, Cadoc, Maleen, Ottee, and four soldiers accompanied Master Jahday and three other explorers into the dark cave. The path was mostly smooth, but every so often they had to climb over a series of rocks that had fallen from above. Jahday and one of his men held lanterns aloft, but once the cave turned a corner and cut off the light from the entrance, the lanterns did not shine far in such blackness. From that point on, they moved very slowly.

“Mielle,” Trevn called out. “I am in a cave.”

“Whatever for?”

“We are exploring. The last time I was in a cave, it was with you.”

Fond memories washed over her, and he sensed her smile. “Where we found the orphans in the evenroot mine,” she said. “Would you believe that the natives have an unusual amount of orphans?”

“How unusual?”

“Based on those we share camp with, there are twenty-three children to every adult.”

“That is high. What do you think happened?”

“A war perhaps? Or maybe they fell victim to some catastrophe. Madame Wyser, Madame Stockton, and I are sewing extra clothing to share with the native children. They are ever so excited to wear anything made of a bright color. Who knew that orange and blue linen could bring such joy? But they don’t really have fabric here, only leather and furs and the occasional piece woven from dried grass or—”

A scream pulled Trevn’s attention back to the cave. “I will speak with you later, Mielle. I am needed.”

Up ahead the men held the lanterns out in front as they peered down at their feet. Trevn pushed between them. “What happened?”

“It was the boy,” Jahday said. “He slid down there.”

Ottee. Trevn took Jahday’s lantern and crouched, setting the light in the dirt at the top of a steep incline. “Ottee?”

A faint reply came, but Trevn couldn’t make out the words. He reached for the boy’s mind. “Are you hurt?”

“No, Your Highness. It’s just . . . dark.”

“Stay put. We are coming.” To the men he said, “Let us slide down, gentlemen. The boy requires our assistance.”

“I would caution against it,” Jahday said. “At least not without pounding a safety line first. We have no idea how steep this becomes. It would not do if you were injured or trapped at the bottom of a pit when the tide comes in.”

Trevn saw the sense of that. “Pound your safety line quickly, Master Jahday. My onesent awaits.”

The moment the line was secured, Trevn took the rope in one hand, a lantern in his other, and started down the steep trail. His boots slipped so often that he began to walk sideways, right foot first, which provided some traction.

Down, down, he went, calling for the boy but never seeming to get any closer. Jahday’s concern about the tide gnawed at the back of his mind. This exploration was taking much longer than he had originally predicted. “There must be a drain below,” he said, “otherwise with such a steep incline, this entire cave would be filled with water.”

“An astute observation, Your Highness,” Jahday called from behind.

Trevn’s legs grew stiff from the tenseness of his muscles and the repeated motion. He turned around, switched the lantern to his other hand, and took a turn with his left foot first to ease the strain.

When he came to the end of the rope and called for Ottee, the boy sounded so near that Trevn let go and continued without the safety line.

A few steps later Cadoc called after him. “You left the rope, Your Highness?”

“We are close, Cadoc. Tell the others to stay on the line so we can find our way back to their lanterns.”

Cadoc growled but passed the message back up the line as Trevn continued on. A musty smell wafted on a warm breeze. It reminded him of a wet horse. Was there animal life down here? And how could the wind blow through a dead-end cave? Not a dead end, he reminded himself. There must be an outlet for the water or he’d be swimming right now.

Cadoc left the line, caught up to him, and took the lantern, which enabled Trevn to move more quickly. Just as he began to despair that this incline stretched into the Lowerworld itself, the ground leveled out and someone grabbed him.

“You came!” Ottee nearly climbed on Trevn, hugging him tightly around the waist.

“Calm, boy. We’ve brought the light.”

“Don’t much care for the dark, do you?” Cadoc asked.

“It’s not even this dark in a ship’s hold,” Ottee said.

A shout back up the tunnel caught Trevn’s attention. Above them lantern lights swayed from side to side.

“We should go back, Your Highness,” Cadoc said.

“Agreed.” Trevn started toward the incline, but a wailing howl stopped him cold. He held his breath, listening. Where had that come from? Behind them? Off to the side?

The sound of trickling water met his ears. He took the lantern back from Cadoc and lowered it to the ground, which was now wet. A sudden gush flowed past and slowly seeped into the dirt.

The tide was coming down.

“Hurry,” Trevn said, starting up the hill. He slipped and took his next step sideways. A glance back to Cadoc and Ottee sent a jolt of fear through him.

A field of dark movement swayed behind Cadoc and the boy, sending a gust of animal smell over them. Hundreds of eyes reflected the lantern light. Bodies as big as his own squirmed and rippled. A howl rang out, accompanied by a second of a higher pitch, then a third.

Another gush of water ran past Trevn’s feet, this time deeper and stronger.

The animals, which did not seem to have arms or legs but rather some kind of fins, surged toward the water in jerkish, waddling motions, grunting and yipping. Ottee screamed. Cadoc picked up the boy just as one of the beasts shuffled past. There must have been thirty of them, and they advanced in a mob up toward the water. Trevn, Cadoc, and Ottee got out of the way and watched the strange animals struggle to climb the hill.

“What do we do?” Trevn asked Cadoc.

His shield didn’t answer, but his eyes darted around the dark cavern as if he might suddenly see something that hadn’t been there before.

“We follow the creatures,” he said finally. “To stay here is to die.”

“You have a way with words, Cadoc,” Trevn said, inching his way toward the herd.

“Ohloo.”

Trevn stopped and scanned the darkness. That voice had been human.

“Look!” Ottee pointed up behind them, where a figure stood holding a torch. A man.

“Wee sapla wa sen. Niseh.”

“Let’s go.” Trevn headed toward the man, eager to avoid the creatures.

They descended a bit deeper into the cave. The ground had become slick beneath his boots. He stepped as carefully as he could through the muck, slowly making his way toward the light on the opposite side of the cavern.

“Do you think this wise, Your Highness?” Cadoc asked.

“Does it matter?” Trevn kept going, running two or three steps whenever the ground looked dry. Several more surges of sea water rolled into the cave, and soon the water reached his ankles.

Trevn reached an incline of rocks and boulders and began to climb, relieved to get out of the water’s path. He slipped on something like sawdust and had to slow down. It would not do to fall and break his leg.

He sent a thought to the explorer’s assistant. “Master Jahday, speak if you can hear me.”

The man’s distress nearly overwhelmed Trevn. “I hear you, Your Highness.”

“We have met a native who we believe is leading us to an alternate route from the cave. Tell the others not to fear for our safety.”

“I will do so at once.”

The climb seemed to take an eternity. Every few steps Trevn turned back to hold the light for Ottee and Cadoc. He peered into the darkness. The rush of the tide was strong now. Full waves ran down the incline and crashed against the rocks below. The strange animals were gone, as was the lantern light from the explorers. Trevn hoped they had gotten out of the path of the creatures.

As he continued to climb, his free hand found more of the sawdust, which turned out to be the same dried paper pulp that had formed the cocoon Maleen had found by the creek near Armanguard. Could the substance be connected to those strange animals?

Trevn reached a smooth rock ledge, straightened to his full height, and came face-to-chest with the biggest man he had ever seen in his life.

A giant.

Though it was dark, the man appeared to have pale skin and hair that looked golden in the torch and lantern light. He waved Trevn to follow and took off along the ledge, ducking occasionally beneath overhead rock formations that were too high to obstruct Trevn’s path.

Trevn reached for the giant’s mind, could not understand his language, but sensed no deception or ulterior motives. He seemed curious and amused.

A glance behind confirmed that Cadoc and Ottee had reached the top. Trevn set off after the giant, whose torch revealed much. He wore clothing of pieced leather with decorative stitching. His boots were fur, and looked soft, like slippers. A leather strap ran over one shoulder and across his back to his opposite hip. It held a collection of spears and knives, all crude with rock or bone blades or tips. No sword. No metal that Trevn could see.

The giant hunched over and led them through a narrow rock tunnel that, in fewer than ten steps, exited into a wash of pale light. Trevn’s eyes adjusted. They stood high up on the inner wall of a rock ledge, looking down on a cavern that opened up to the sea. Jagged dripstones that resembled hardened honey covered the ceiling, which was high enough that the Seffynaw could anchor inside.

The animal smell was overwhelming, as were the grunts and howls of the creatures. Hundreds of the strange animals covered the banks along the sides of the cavern and the massive rock formations in the middle of the water. With the light streaming in through the mouth of the cave, Trevn could now see that the beasts were covered in thin fur. Some were swimming in the water, but most were sitting in a lazy heap atop the rocks or on the banks. They were very fat with faces like dune cats and stubby, flipper-like feet with long claws.

“What are they?” Trevn asked.

“Sey badla wa reekat,” the giant said. “Tee badla wa sahjen.”

Trevn looked up at him for the first time since entering the lit cavern. Trevn was known as tall, but the top of his head didn’t even reach the giant’s shoulder. The man was golden, like Miss Onika, with hair and beard to match, both twisted and looped into a tangle of knots, braids, and bits of bone. His pieced leather garment was open at the front, revealing a muscular chest and a collection of claws and beetle carapaces on a leather cord.

Trevn shook his head, tapped his lips, then his ear. “I don’t understand.”

“I am name Toqto,” the giant said, in halting Kinsman. “You to wear colors and bird of god-man.” He pointed at the insignia on Trevn’s tunic.

The giant spoke Kinsman? How? And what was he talking about? “Arman?”

“Arman, oom.” The giant nodded.

“Where did you learn my language?” Trevn asked, thinking that someone from Mielle’s group might be nearby.

“God-man teach. Many to learn from Gray son of Jhorn.”

Trevn perked up at that name. Could he mean the youth that Sir Kalenek had lost? Wilek believed that the boy might have ended up on a Magonian vessel.

“Was Grayson with others?” Trevn asked.

“Others, oom. Came to here with tribe of Rand Moor.”

A chill ran over Trevn. Randmuir Khal of the Omatta had made peace with the giants? Could he have pirated the Magonian ship? “Where are they now?”

“Zuzaan,” Toqto said, pounding a fist against his chest. “My home.”

Wilek would want him to find Grayson, but he would also worry about Trevn joining the company of a giant. Still, he should try to make peace, and perhaps learn why so many giants had abducted Kinsman people. He might even find Princess Saria.

But that would mean delaying his search for Mielle, at least for a time. Trevn reached for her, not to speak, but to sense her nearness. The soul-binding swelled in his chest, a familiar ache that would only be satisfied when he held her in his arms.

Though he hated it, she would have to wait a few more days.

The giant led the way out of the cavern to the beach, where the other explorers were waiting a good ten paces from three other giants—each as tall and intimidating as Toqto, though they were all dark-haired. Trevn offered the giants a tour of the Seffynaw, but they were too frightened by his dinghy, which, to be fair, looked like it might capsize if all four giants climbed in. Instead they each took a turn looking at the ship through Trevn’s grow lens, which seemed to delight them all, while Master Keppel inquired about their weapons.

Toqto removed the leather strap he wore over one shoulder and slid off the loops that held his weapons. He demonstrated how to use the strap to climb the branchless trees by wrapping it around the trunk and using it for leverage. Toqto was halfway up the tree when another giant removed his strap and offered it to Trevn. Eager to try, Trevn accepted. Cadoc, as always, raised caution, but Trevn waved him off. His boots proved a hindrance, so he kicked them off and quickly made progress.

He used the strap to pull himself all the way to where the branches began, and from that point on climbed as he would any other tree. When his head finally popped above the prickly needles that adorned the ends of the branches, Trevn could see for miles over treetops. As it turned out, they were on the southeast side of a peninsula that stretched north and then wrapped back around into an inlet. To the west, where Mielle should be, he caught sight of an expanse of water—a channel, he hoped, that he could sail through.

“Dirtman!”

Slightly offended at the title, Trevn sought out the faint voice and spotted Toqto’s pale head above the branches of a tree just behind his.

“Zuzaan, badla wa men. My home. Is there.” Toqto pointed to the southwest. “You to come.”

Trevn wasn’t sure if he should accept, but by the time the two of them shimmied back to the ground, he had a plan.

He made a quick trip back to the Seffynaw to gather supplies and divide his team. Captain Bussie would sail the ship around the peninsula and continue the exploration with Master Keppel. Kempe would remain on board so that the ship would have a way to communicate with Trevn, who would go on foot with Toqto to the giant village, find Grayson, and attempt to learn more about the giants and where Princess Saria and the other Kinsman captives might have been taken. In a week’s time Trevn would meet the Seffynaw at the southernmost cove of the inlet, then continue his search for Mielle.

The sun hung low in the sky by the time Trevn and his men had returned to shore and set out with the giants. He waited until they’d gotten a good start on their trip before voicing Wilek an update on the situation. The new king did not take the news well.

“You left the ship? Trevn, you put yourself in danger traipsing off into the woods with giants.”

“I kept nearly half the soldiers with me, plus some of the explorers and my entire staff.”

“You still must take care, brother,” Wilek said.

“I see no runes tattooed upon them, and I sense nothing but amusement and curiosity in them at the moment,” Trevn said. “I don’t think they mean us harm. Besides, Toqto speaks Kinsman because Grayson taught him. He calls the boy god-man, says he can do magic.”

“I’m sure he can. He is a root child.”

“Well, isn’t it important to find the boy? He might be able to help us locate Princess Saria and the others.”

“That would be good, yes. See if you can communicate with Saria. Her father tells me she has been taken to a mine of sorts and made to work. Perhaps you could learn something from her directly. And if what Jhorn said is true and Rogedoth is Grayson’s grandfather, then the boy has royal blood. Why don’t you try to voice him as well? Perhaps you could find your answers now.”

“I will try, but as I’ve never met him, I can’t imagine I will succeed.”

They moved slowly through the forest, and several times Trevn spotted the strange rat birds watching them. As they traveled, Maleen picked greens along the road and the men hunted the birds. By the time the sun had set the group had reached a road. They lit torches and lanterns and walked for several more hours, the giants’ long legs setting a pace that was faster than Trevn’s men were used to.

Trevn spoke to Saria, who confirmed all that Wilek had said. She and her people had been taken underground to a mine, where they had been forced to gather beetles.

“I don’t know what they want with them,” she said. “There are pale natives here as well, and they have given me the impression that the giants eat these beetles.”

A bizarre practice. Trevn recalled the carapaces Toqto wore yet assured Saria that the giants he’d met were friendly and spoke some Kinsman. “I hope to discover where they mine these beetles and come to set you all free.”

“I pray Arman grants you success,” Saria said.

After that, Trevn played with his mind-speaking ability, alternating between trying to voice the boy Grayson, talking with Mielle, and monitoring the giants’ emotions. He had no success in reaching Grayson, and the only emotions he could sense from the giants were hunger, contentedness, and an eagerness to please. Trevn saw nothing sinister in such feelings, so he went back to talking with Mielle.

“I am disappointed that our reunion will be delayed yet again,” she said, “but I am proud of you for doing the right thing. Princess Saria is surely terrified, and I am sure Grayson will be thrilled to get back to Master Jhorn and Miss Onika.”

Trevn tried to imagine how frightening it must have been for a young boy to have gotten lost for so long. “Wilek says he is quite resourceful. Sir Kalenek told several stories about—”

“Trevn? This is your mother. Answer me at once. I have important news.”

Trevn grimaced. Important news to his mother could mean she’d had a new gown commissioned. He had no desire to be lectured over his marriage to Mielle. However, it had been several months since they’d spoken, and a sense of guilt twisted his heart. He should at least attempt a conversation, shouldn’t he? With a heavy sigh he bid farewell to Mielle and let his mother in.

“Hello, Mother.”

“My son! Oh, how you try my patience. I thought you had made yourself dead to me. Sorrow had swept out the joy from my heart, but your answer brings a dawn of hope. Did you hear that Ulrik has wed the Queen of Tenma?”

Ah, so she wanted to gossip. Trevn could indulge her for a time. “I did. I admit it surprised me. Doesn’t she hate him?”

“She is a great deceiver, who used your nephew cruelly. She married him for the power he offered her. And then on my ageday, mind—which you neglected to remember to my own bitter heartache—on that very day the empress’s magic ran out. I tell you, she wilted before my very eyes, aged some thirty years in the space of ten seconds. I have never been so horrified in all my days.”

This story Trevn had not heard. “Sands alive. What did Ulrik do?”

“How quickly the boy’s love faded, let me tell you. But as this happened at my ageday celebration in front of the entire population and Ulrik had just announced that she carries his heir, what is he to do but await the birth of his child?”

“Will he arrest her?”

“He wants to kill her, but he has no valid reason but his own pride. I hope you will heed the misfortune of your nephew and find Princess Saria.”

“I have already spoken with Saria, Mother. I do hope to find and help her escape her captors.”

“What a blessing to hear, my son. She will be good for you and all Armania. She was bred to be a queen.”

Trevn would not have this conversation again. “Armania already has a queen, and I a wife. Farewell, Mother.” And he ended their connection.

“Trevn! I’m not finished speaking with you about Princess Saria. You are legally betrothed now. Give up this foolish crusade to keep your common bride, and do your duty. Think of the tales the minstrels will write after you rescue Saria from giants and then make her your wife. Trevn? Do you hear me?”

Trevn sighed and stared at his boots as he walked the ruts in the dirt road. Would his mother never learn that bullying him didn’t work?

“A stiff-necked man will be destroyed, Trevn, and I cannot help the dead. Do you hear me? If you do not marry Saria, you will forever regret it.”

She continued to rail, but Trevn found that by reopening a conversation with Mielle, he could muffle his mother entirely.

They finally stopped and made camp just off the road. The giants ate dried meat and squares of flatbread. Trevn’s soldiers roasted the game they’d killed, and Maleen created a salad of the greens. The fowl tasted good but could have used salt and spices. The greens were horribly bitter, though Trevn ate them to be polite.

After the late dinner Trevn draped his cape over a thick carpet of moss and lay down, staring past the distant treetops at the stars. He checked in with Wilek and told him about his conversations with Saria and his mother.

“Ulrik informed Inolah of Jazlyn’s deception a few days ago,” Wilek said. “Telling you slipped my mind.”

“He was a fool to wed a mantic in the first place,” Trevn said.

“Yes, and while I pity Ulrik, I cannot worry about him at present. Not with my brother traipsing through strange forests with giants. I am glad you were able to speak with Saria. Any luck contacting Grayson?”

“None. I tried on and off all afternoon.”

“Well, keep trying. The closer you get, perhaps. It’s worked before. Didn’t you—”

“Wil?” Trevn sat up, searching for a connection to his brother. He could find none.

How odd.

“Wilek?”

Only the crickets answered.

Panicked, Trevn reached for Rystan, worried something had happened to his brother. Rystan did not answer.

He tried Oli, Miss Onika, Inolah, his sisters, and even Lady Zeroah, who never answered.

“Mielle, can you hear me?”

She did not reply, which planted a seed of fear within his heart.

“Kempe?”

“Cadoc?”

“Hinck?”

Again and again Trevn tried to speak with Mielle and Wilek. Then finally, in total desperation, “Mother?”

No reply, even from her.

Arman, he prayed. Did I do something wrong that you would remove your gift?

Arman did not answer.

No one did.

“My pardon, Your Highness,” Cadoc said from his left. “Rosâr Wilek is speaking to my thoughts. He is concerned that you do not answer. What shall I tell him?”

Trevn sat up and stared at Cadoc in the darkness. Wilek still had his gift? “Tell him I cannot hear him. I cannot hear anyone.”

A moment of silence passed, then, “He asks if you have been drinking.”

“You both know me better than that.”

Cadoc paused a moment, then said, “He would like to know if you ate anything strange.”

Now there was an idea. “Let me think.” Trevn ran over his meals in his mind. He’d eaten some dried reekat meat Toqto had given him. The soldiers had hunted the rat birds. And Maleen had picked those bitter greens. All three were new to Trevn. Perhaps one had somehow stifled the voices. “Tell Wilek I tried three new foods today. I will investigate the matter fully. Ask him to check in with you tomorrow morning to see what I have discovered.”