The last light of Sirius was bleeding from the evening sky. Kirian stood in a dark cloak at the edge of a rough stone platform jutting out from one of the lower craggy faces of Mount Tsari. Behind him, a randomly perforated stone covering rose up and over the main housing of the bell tower concealed below. Almost all of the tower’s structure was underground, hidden from visual discovery by aerial craft. A wise design, Kirian thought thankfully, not only for engineering purposes in order to utilize the crystalline veins stretching far below the base of Tsari, but to minimize the real threat of outside intervention he now faced.

The wind up the side of the great mountain came in frenzied bursts, lifting his white hair up off his shoulders and tossing it sporadically in random directions. The chilly air felt good compared to the stagnant, dank conditions of cavern living.

Spread out in front of him as far as the eye could see was a magnificent sprawl of the highest peaks making up the northern range. The waning light reflected off the snowy heights, giving the massive shapes an otherworldly glow against the blanket of stars just starting to come out.

“It’s so beautiful,” Minla crooned beside him. Her white coat was radiant, even without her added effects, making her stand out like a jewel above the stark, rocky slope.

“It’s a tragic shame we have to leave,” Kirian replied, looking down at the serene expression covering his wife’s face. Her right hand rested over the slight curve of her belly and she let out a silent sigh.

“There will be other mountains,” she stated calmly. “Our child will be the first Makhás born somewhere else. Well, I like to think of it that way. Torma and her people did get out years ago. I’ve always imagined them alive and happy on some other world. Maybe we’ll find them, Kirian.”

“Maybe we will, love.”

Kirian silently studied his wife’s profile as she gazed out at the majestic peaks. This time he hadn’t missed the quiet pride in her voice, the loving gesture, her sigh of contentment. Our child. The melancholy he had seen in the Lady of the Bells had faded away with each passing day after she had conceived. If nothing else, he had given her this. In a sudden rush, he reached out and pulled her against him under his cloak, kissing her soundly while the wind swirled their hair in wild disarray.

“Mmm,” she purred, smiling up at him. “What was that for?”

“Just because.”

Wriggling around in his arms, she leaned back against his chest while he resettled his cloak around them both. “Have you picked one yet?” she asked, tipping her face up toward the sparkling stars overhead.

“Nah, I just thought we’d orbit for a while. It’s pretty up there.”

Minla bumped her head against his chest with playful vexation. “Kirian!”

He grinned and squeezed her tightly. “We have several possibilities. Kalden and Tenzin told me which stargates they used the most when they flew Rinzen years ago. We eliminated a few that were having Drahk problems before we were cut off, but we think our best chances will be in Altair, Atlas, or Dennár. We just won’t know until we get outside the portal and make contact. A lot can change in thirty-two years.”

“Have you tried to reach that man you saw up at Namkha?”

Kirian shook his head, focusing on the warm piece of gold pressing against his breastbone. “No. I just haven’t had time.”

Kiri, we’re almost ready down here. Selina’s call from inside the tower sounded in his mind. Niyal’s making the rounds to all five towers to hang the long ringers. He’ll wait for Arman to help him lift and hang the Cagi.

Ok, I’ll get him up here.

Kirian kissed the top of Minla’s head and opened his arms to allow her to step away. “Selina’s got the teams in place. Time to call Arman.”

Turning back around to face the rough stone tower covering, Kirian closed his eyes and reached for connection with his friend.

Arman, it’s time.

I’ve been waiting for your voice. Are the Cagi in position?

Just waiting for your expert touch.

Not a moment too soon.

Why? What’s wrong?

The Drahks have been running with vicious beasts in the streets near the central buildings. We’re ok for the moment in this quarter, but I’ve been hearing Maránd use the word ‘Makhás’ too many times for comfort when I’ve listened in over the last couple of days.

Then we’d better get moving.

Give me a few minutes, ok?

When you’re ready, lock onto me and come on through. Be prepared—it’s windy up here on Tsari.

Several moments later, the figure of the big bellmaker appeared on the stone a few feet away. Tucked within his bare arms in a threadbare jacket was a comely, robust woman with light brown hair and the lion-like colorings of the Shitza.

The woman gasped when she saw where they were and dug her fingers into Arman’s fur-covered chest. Turning her head, her wide bronze eyes landed on the tall man in the dark, wind-swept cloak and the woman in white beside him.

“White hair, Ustagi stripes—oh my god,” she blurted in a voice filled with disbelief. “You’re Makhás.” Pushing out away from Arman’s broad chest, she whipped her head up to look him in the eye. “And you? Are you one of them? Is that why you could whisk us up here like you did?”

Arman nodded, giving the woman a moment to let the ramifications sink in. She shook her head and gave his chest a small thump. “All this time you let me believe you were lazy and stupid!”

“Arman Sijía is anything but stupid,” Kirian’s deep voice rumbled, startling the woman as he stepped around her and pulled Arman into a fierce hug. “God, I missed you.”

The big man laughed when Kirian refused to let go, slapping his back with fond affection. “It’s good to see you, too.”

When Kirian finally pulled away, Arman grasped the woman’s shoulder and waved a hand out toward his friend. “Tiza, this is Kirian Vall and his wife Minla.”

Kirian slid an arm out across Minla’s shoulders as she stepped up next to him and when the cloak fell back, Tiza’s eyes took in his long violet vest and the intricate gold pendant dangling around his neck.

“You’re the Makhás yeshe,” she proclaimed with wonder. “I’ve heard all the stories. Then it’s true? The magical ships of the tigers?”

Kirian let out an exasperated breath. “Yes, it’s true. Arman, didn’t you tell her what’s going on?”

“Tell me what?” Tiza interjected with a scowl. “He said he had to leave Edu and asked if I’d come with him. When I said yes, he told me to grab a jacket and poof—we were here. Scared the crap out of me.”

At Kirian’s ferocious glare, the big man threw out defensively, “There wasn’t enough time for me to explain.”

“You’ve had three days since I contacted you, Arman, and now it’s down to the wire.”

“I, uh … didn’t want her to bail on me,” the bellmaker mumbled with a sheepish shrug.

“You should have had more faith in her than that!” Kirian snapped. “She has a right to know what we’re facing and make her own choice.” He closed his eyes in irritation before turning to Tiza. “We’ve got a few hundred people down below this mountain—we’re all that’s left of the Makhás. Chao Rong nearly wiped us out thirty years ago when we refused to hand over our ships. He bombed all the northern cities, killed hundreds of thousands of people.”

The woman’s hand flew to her mouth in horror while Kirian pressed on with what he needed to say. “We’re about to try something with the old science of the Makhás to repair the broken portal up in space that’s trapped us here. If it works, we’re leaving Lyonnae for good. If it doesn’t—the Drahks are hunting for us. That’s what Arman’s been listening for in Edu. You’re in danger just by being with us.”

“Tiza, if you … want me to take you back to Edu, I will,” Arman offered soberly, watching her face intently and bracing himself against possible rejection.

The Shitza woman looked long and hard at the big tawny-headed man before shifting her gaze to Kirian, narrowing her eyes on the Makhás leader in front of her. “Chao Rong should burn in hell for what he did to you, what he did to me. I know the terrible pain of losing people I love,” she declared raggedly, “and I don’t want to lose any more.” Reaching out to grab Arman’s hand, she squeezed it tightly and squared her shoulders, looking at Kirian with firm resolve. “The Drahks are taking over Lyonnae—none of us are safe. I’m with you, for better or worse. How can I help?”

Startled by the woman’s forthright offer, Kirian looked up at his childhood friend, watching the relief spread across Arman features. “You’ve already helped more than you’ll ever know, Tiza. Keeping him safe all these months was the greatest gift you could ever have given me.”

“I’m rather fond of the big lug myself, Yeshe Vall,” she replied with a warm smile. “He may be sharp, but he doesn’t listen very well.”

“No, he doesn’t, but he makes exquisite bells. Make him explain what that means.”

“Oh yeah,” she nodded with a determined look. “This man’s got daaays of explaining ahead of him.” At Arman’s sudden yowl from Tiza’s iron grip on his hand, Kirian threw back his head and laughed.

“My god, was that Kirian?” Niyal’s rasping voice drawled near the back wall. “Arman, are you going to get your sorry ass in here to help me or do I have to kick you off this mountain?”

“Niyal!” Arman turned and hurried across the platform to throw his free arm around the grinning smith, pulling Tiza by the hand along with him.

“Oh ho ho, looks like you’ve done more than just spy on the damned Shitza,” the brusk man jeered as he ran an appreciative eye over Tiza.

The bellmaker grinned at the other smith before his features drew into a look of concern. “You’re looking a little thin, man.” Turning his head sharply back to Kirian and Minla who had come up behind him, his brow furrowed in dismay. “You’re all looking thin. Have things gotten that bad?”

“Yes,” Kirian hissed. “It’s critical that we make this work.”

“Where’s Rinzen?”

“Down below in the most spectacular crystal cavern in all of creation,” he replied, raising his brows at the thought of the glorious quartz- and amethyst-lined chambers they had discovered three days ago below Tsari when they transported in to scope out the towers. “Tenzin and her shields team are on board helping Anil and Nandi get her ready to fly. Selina’s got our transport team down inside the chamber here at this tower. Your portal team is waiting with Skamár at another tower. Asti’s waiting with a group of scholars to help Niyal, Kalden’s motion team will assist him, and Senga has all of the security masters at the fifth site. Everyone’s ready to work as soon as the Cagi are in place.”

“The long ringers are all hung in each of the towers,” Niyal reported with a nod to Kirian. “Arman, I need you to help me lift the Cagi into position and make any adjustments to perfect the resonance within the towers.”

“It’s going to be too loud to stay inside when we ring them,” Kirian added, “so take your teams back outside to the platforms when it’s time to work the portal.”

“Too loud? Just how big are these things?”

Kirian glanced at Niyal before breaking into a grin. “You’ll see. Let’s go.”

“Hold on, Tiza. We’re shifting again,” Arman cautioned as he reached out and grabbed his mate around the waist.

In the blink of an eye, the party transported down below to the white quartz floor of a lofty, cylindrical space where Selina and a large group of cloaked Makhás stood beneath a set of softly glowing, floating orbs, looking up at the monumental bronze shape looming high overhead.

“Oh my god!”

Arman’s stunned shout echoed around the stone chamber and was quickly followed by laughter and shouts of welcome from the adepts scattered around the room.

“Is that enough bell for you, big man?” Selina teased as she ran up from behind him and threw her arms around his waist.

“That’s the biggest damn bell I’ve ever seen—or imagined. When Kirian said ‘giant bells,’ I thought maybe—” He lifted his arms in front of him to form a circular shape six or seven feet across.

“Shit, man. If you’re going to ring a mountain, you’ve got to do it right,” Niyal quipped. “Our ancestors knew what they were doing.”

“Let’s hope these babies are enough to undo the damage the Drahks did up above,” Kirian prayed as he walked up to the side of the bell and put his hands on the cold metal. “This one’s name is Dolma.”

Arman came up beside him and did the same, craning his neck to look up the side before lowering his head and closing his eyes.

“Careful,” Kirian warned. “I toned with this one up at Namkha and nearly fried my nervous system. We’re standing on top of a vein of quartz and gold that runs down hundreds of feet into Tsari which will amplify—”

“—exponentially. Damn,” Arman bit off, shaking his head in amazement. “Help me do a test so I can feel its resonance points.”

Kirian took a deep breath and sounded a low, steady tone, shifting to the bell’s primary note he had touched before and quickly dampened his volume to be able to keep the vibration from avalanching his system. Arman’s voice came in around his, matching Kirian’s amplitude while he ran through a series of exploratory tones. The bronze vibrated under Kirian’s hands in response to the shifting sounds, sending a tingling current through his frame as it shot down into the floor to connect with the river of quartz below.

Arman broke off his toning and stood back, sucking in a deep breath. “Wow!” he exclaimed as Kirian lowered his hands. “The spectrum I picked up is really complex and I have a feeling I just touched the tip of the iceberg. When this baby rings, the range of frequencies it hits will fall far below anything we can perceive with our hearing.”

“I would expect as much for something that’s intended to work with planetary energetics. Did you get enough to be able to tell when it’s hung properly?”

“Yep. Niyal, did you find the hooks?” Arman called out while he looked up, studying the overhead structure of the tower.

“Yeah, in the same place I found the long ringer and suspension chains.”

“Are they in good shape?”

“Clean as a whistle.”

“Amazing—then let’s get this sister up into place!”

Kirian patted his friend’s broad back as Arman turned and swung into gear, calling out suggestions to the other smith while he stalked around the bell, examining it from other angles.

Walking back toward Selina, a comforting feeling of relief washed through Kirian at hearing Arman’s voice again, but it evaporated into mist when it hit him that his wife was no longer in the tower.

“Where’s Min?” he asked tautly. “And Tiza?”

“Relax, Kiri. They went to get something.”

“What??” Closing his eyes, he sent out a frantic call to locate his missing spouse. Minla! Where are you?

I brought Tiza back down to Edu. She has some things she wanted to collect.

Are you crazy? It’s—

I’m perfectly fine. We’ll be back in just a few minutes.

But you—

The longer you keep me, the longer we’ll be. Shoo!

Growling with annoyance, Kirian closed down the link and started to pace, glaring at his sister when she crossed her arms and smiled smugly. Arman’s strong voice rang out, pulling his attention back around just as the mammoth bronze bell lifted from the floor.

With his arms out in front of him, Arman guided the bell upward several feet, holding it steady while Niyal shifted one of the hooks into position down through the heavy beam anchored into the walls and a second one through the bell’s crown.

“Alright, we’re good,” Niyal shouted. “Let her down slowly.”

Arman lowered the great bell and as soon as it was hanging securely on its own, he bent over and moved under the rim, standing up inside where the soft sound of his voice could be heard humming within. Taking hold of the long wooden ringer suspended by chains from a second beam, Niyal walked it over to the side of the bell, touching it lightly while Arman listened to the vibrations from within.

A few seconds later, the big man bent over and popped back out of the bell with an ecstatic look on his face. “Perfect. This is so fucking cool. Ready for the next one, Niyal?”

“Arman!”

Kirian’s sharp yell bounced off the walls, making everyone in the room jump from the sudden sound. With an impatient exhale, he cleared his throat and adjusted his volume before he went on. “My wife took off with Tiza back to Edu,” he grated between clenched teeth. “Do you have any idea what that’s all about?”

“I think this might have something to do with it,” Selina announced behind him.

Whirling around, Kirian’s eyes landed on his sister standing next to the wall, leaning over a couple of large baskets filled to the brim with loaves of bread. As he watched, several more baskets appeared at the base of the wall, each holding an assortment of rolls, baguettes, muffins, and other baked goods wrapped in papers and towels.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Arman declared, stepping up beside him.

“What the hell is this?” Kirian snarled with a frown, turning a baffled expression to the bellmaker while the aroma of fresh bread permeated the chamber.

Arman placed his hands on his hips and smiled. “I think I’ll let her explain.”

A pile of small baskets appeared beside the bread seconds before Minla and Tiza materialized, their arms laden with sacks and heavy bags. Minla smiled and gave out directions to several adepts who rushed over to help as Kirian stalked forward and came to a halt in front of the two women.

Tiza glanced up at the tall yeshe while she handed off several jars of nuts and seeds. “I’m sorry, it’s not enough to feed hundreds, but we cleaned out everything I had in the shop.” When Kirian did not reply, she paused and looked up, caught off-guard by his look of utter disbelief. “I’m a baker—not a very glorious talent compared to what you—”

Kirian reached out and touched his fingers to her mouth to stop her words. “Arman was right about you,” he said quietly. “He told me you have a big heart. Thank you, Tiza.”

With a small smile, the Shitza woman nodded as Kirian dropped his hand away. “Whatever it is you’re planning to do, at least you can do it with a full belly. I couldn’t just let this stuff go to waste when I saw you needed it.”

As Tiza turned to hand out the rest of her parcels, Minla grabbed several buttery rolls and pushed them into her husband’s big hands. “Don’t wolf these down,” she said with a grin. “I’m going to take some bread to the teams in the other towers while Arman and Niyal finish with the Cagi. When we’re ready to leave, I’ll transfer the rest down to Rinzen and distribute it around to the folks on the ship.” Without waiting for his acknowledgment, she waved and ran to the back wall to pick up two baskets before disappearing once again from the chamber.

“Niyal, grab something to eat and let’s go!” Arman called as he walked up next to Kirian and held out his hand for Tiza. “Come with me, sweetheart.”

“Let me know the second you get the last one hung,” Kirian charged, taking a bite out of the crusty roll as Tiza came running up.

“I will. Shouldn’t take long since I have the feel of them now.” The bellmaker grabbed his mate’s hand and nodded at Niyal before the three of them transported out of the tower.

In the sudden quiet, Kirian looked up the side of the great bell, savoring the taste of Tiza’s gift while his friends behind him munched contentedly on the first fresh bread they’d had in days. Word of the Drahkian takeover had spread like wildfire across the plateau and the terrified Ustagi had all but vanished, huddling in their homes while the Makhás provisions dwindled to dangerously low levels. Rationally he knew it wasn’t his fault, but he couldn’t shake the horrifying feeling that he should have been able to prevent the pain of these people. No doubt his father had suffered the same internal agony all the years he had toiled to keep the last Makhás alive.

“You’re brooding again.”

Selina’s lithe figure appeared beside him, a look of calm anticipation lighting her fine features. “It’s almost over, Kiri. This is what Dad dreamed about for so long. Let yourself get excited about going someplace new.”

“I will when I know this’ll work. There are too many variables that can still go wrong.”

“You’ve always been such a worrier.” The tiny woman leaned against his side with easy familiarity.

“What if we can’t get out, Fluff? What am I supposed to do with these people, especially if we run out of food? I can’t even look them in the eye.”

“I don’t have answers for you, Kiri, but I do know that no one blames you for being afraid or hungry.”

The young yeshe stepped forward and placed a hand on the bottom of the bronze bell. “The people who designed these were nothing short of brilliant. I pray that I can live up to the standards they set.” Without turning around, he let out an anxious breath. “I’m going back up to the platform so my nerves don’t spill onto everyone else down here. I’ll call you after I hear from Arman.”

The bracing air hit him in a gush when he reappeared out on the stone ledge, immediately dropping again into a steady flutter. A blanket of stars blazed across the heavens above the peaks as he took up a restless stride, his cloak twisting sporadically in gusts off of Tsari. He paced for perhaps half an hour, each minute stretching into what felt like an age until Arman’s voice broke into his thoughts.

Finished and ready to roll. Niyal just took off to join Asti and their team.

Good. Time to make some sound, my friend.

Turning around to face the tower covering, Kirian sent out a call to the teams of adepts waiting within the five tower chambers.

Everyone, up on the platforms! It’s time!

Behind him, Minla, Selina and the forty-six adepts of Rinzen’s transport team appeared on the bare stone ledge, their heavy cloaks flapping in the wind.

Team leaders—lift the ringers for the first sounding.

Closing his eyes to focus with his inner senses, Kirian formed a matrix around the heavy wooden pole suspended directly below and pulled back, releasing his hold long enough to allow the ringer to swing down and strike the side of the great bell, quickly stilling its movement to keep it from interfering with the sound.

The stone shook beneath his feet as Dolma rang, vibrating the tower chamber below with a rumbling deep tone that rose up out of the depths of Tsari, rattling the bones and teeth of the Makhás adepts as it swept through them in a powerful beam up into Lyonnae’s atmosphere.

Again!

With the second tone, the column intensified and began to spin, rising like a serpent let loose from its chains far beneath the surface of the mountain.

Start your toning! Build your matrix around the column of sound and ride with it up to the portal.

Raising his voice, Kirian blended his tones with those of the adepts behind him, working together like a well-oiled machine to construct an energetic harness around the spiraling column. Extending his senses, Kirian picked up the distinctive signatures of the other four bells rising up from their towers around the base of Tsari, and with them, the intricate weavings of the other Makhás masters.

Keep sounding the Cagi to strengthen the beams while we work!

Kirian rang the bell again before shifting his perspective skyward to the wide portal area in the upper atmosphere. The convergence of energetic threads within Lyonnae’s grid that had once been the Makhás portal lay burned and broken, mangled remnants of the destruction caused by the Drahkian warship so long ago. As his team’s construct carried Dolma’s sound column closer to the strands, he could feel an energetic resonance with a particular set of gridlines running into the disrupted space and instinctively knew how to bring them together.

Guide your columns to the edge of the portal, then hold them steady. They’ll gravitate to the lines they were designed for.

Dolma’s beam curved gently within Kirian’s grasp, seeking its harmonic partners within the grid, and as soon as he felt a set of strands reacting to its presence, he eased it into position to allow them to meld. Within seconds, the other four sound columns, deftly guided by the Makhás teams, found their counterparts within the grid and smoothly linked themselves with the strands of the portal.

Kirian rang Dolma again, sending a fresh blast of sound from Tsari up through the column. When the spinning energy pulsed across the connection and traveled on into the damaged threads, he felt a surge of elation. The gridlines were responding. Tashi had gotten this far, but had been blocked by the Drahkian portal lock installed on the ground. Without that interference, they should be able to take control over the strands in the portal once again and bring them back into a Makhás configuration.

Sending his senses out across the energized network, Kirian followed the current flowing down the threads to the places where the lines tangled together in unnatural clumps.

Arman, pass off the ringing of your bell to Skamár and help me do something about these knots. Selina, take over Dolma and keep her sounding.

Shifting his focus to the largest clump, Kirian studied the gridlines twisting together from odd angles when Arman’s strong presence sidled in beside him.

The current dissipates in spots like this where several lines seem to be melted.

Yeah, it feels like fibers that were touched with a hot iron.

I can sense pairs of incoming threads which have the same signature, all part of Dolma’s network. Tashi’s notes said we should be able to use the Cagi to repair these, so let’s start by sounding out a formation to pick up a line on one side and reconnect it with its mate on the other.

Kirian changed his tone to begin shaping a new geometric form, latching it onto a point in one of the lines while Arman shaped a second form, hooking it into the same spot. Together they wove and spun the new matrix out into a long bridge, pulling it around the knot before attaching it onto the matching gridline on the other side.

Alright, it’s holding. Three more pairs to go to clear this juncture.

Working quickly, the two Makhás masters had the energetic bridges in place within minutes.

Selina, give Dolma a fresh ring.

The great bell’s sound shot up the column and the instant it hit the bridges, it rolled through the pathways, reconnecting the gridlines with a series of loud snaps as they pulled free, allowing the energy to flow cleanly for the first time in thirty-two years.

Yesss!!!

Kirian’s exuberant relief flooded the open link and was echoed by every Makhás adept working within the weaving.

There are blockages in each of the Cagi networks. Niyal, Kalden, Senga—pass the bell ringing to another adept and shift your focus to the malfunctioning gridlines. Arman and I will help you construct the repairs.

The five masters went to work rerouting the threads, eliminating the fused junctions one at a time. When the last obstruction was cleared, the portal hummed quietly, the vibrations from the Cagi flowing smoothly through the lines inside the portal’s parameters.

This is how it used to feel when we flew—clean and alive. Kalden’s clear voice in the link radiated satisfaction and pride. It’s all thanks to you, Yeshe Vall.

Thanks to all of us, my friend. Help me sound out a few configurations to test the portal’s responses before we close down.

As they lifted their voices into familiar chords and shifted their tones, the gridlines within the activated portal zone stretched and moved with graceful elasticity to form the intricate patterns called up by the Makhás masters. It was exhilarating to feel Lyonnae’s energetic grid move in harmony under their direction and Kirian felt a deep sense of accomplishment that they had managed to heal the living fabric of the planet, at least in this portion of the grid.

We’re finished!! Let the Cagi ring with their last sounding and as the energy dissipates, release your attachment to the portal and ease your columns back down to the ground. Good work, everyone! Our ancestors would be proud!

Kirian threaded his voice back into his team’s construct, reveling in the last throbbing vibrations from the great bell beneath his feet. While the adepts tapered their sound, he sent his private thanks to Tashi and Sera Choden for their dedicated guidance and to the five Cagi themselves, knowing it was the last time they would ever ring on the heights of Tsari.

When the group was firmly grounded, Kirian brought the toning to a close. Taking a deep, cleansing breath of cold mountain air, he let his head fall back, listening to the flapping of cloaks caught by the gusts up the slopes.

The sound of raucous cheering startled him out of his brief moment of reverie. Minla’s arms flew around him an instant before Selina grabbed him around the waist, nearly knocking him off balance while the group of ecstatic adepts swarmed around him, pushing in close, patting his back and shoulders amid shouts of excitement and jubilant hoots.

“That was amazing!” his twin bubbled, squeezing him tightly.

Minla lifted her face and kissed him, beaming with pride. “You’re amazing, Yeshe Vall.”

Breaking into a broad smile, Kirian laughed as he looked around the sea of happy faces, hugging his wife and sister before letting out a loud groan. “By the Prime, you have nooooooo idea how relieved I am right now.”

“Ohhh, yes we do,” Selina countered with a sideways grin. “You’ve been walking around in a black cloud for months since supplies started to dwindle. Everyone knows how worried you’ve been.”

The tall man let out a short, self-deprecating laugh. “I guess I have been a little severe. I can’t help it. I love you all so much and it hurts to see you suffer.”

“Kirian, come look at this!” The voice of one of the adepts at the back brought the heads of everyone in the group around at once. The man took a few steps across the platform and raised his hand, pointing downward at something he was looking at below.

Kirian pulled away from Minla and Selina and led them through his team to the edge of the wind-swept ledge. In the wide valley spread between Tsari and the peaks across the way, lights from dozens of Ustagi villages sparkled across the undulating landscape.

“What in the world? Why would those people do that?” Kirian mumbled under his breath. “I thought they’d all gone into hiding from the Drahks.”

“They must have heard the bells, Kiri.” Minla’s soft declaration held a touch of sadness. “They lit the lamps to let us know they heard us.”

Kirian swept his gaze across the glittering spectacle below, both surprised and humbled by this simple outpouring of respect for the Makhás. “I wonder if the other groups are seeing this as well.”

Arman, Kalden, are the villagers lighting lamps below your towers?

Yes, it’s breathtaking! I’ve never seen anything like it.

They are here, too, Kirian. It’s been a long time since I felt such a connection with these people.

As Kirian watched the sparkling lamps flicker in the night breeze, his sense of awe slipped away into a feeling of unease. If the villagers had heard the Cagi, then other ears had most likely picked up the thundering sounds coming down off the mountain. He shifted his eyes to the far end of the valley that spilled out onto the plateau just as the first dark discs appeared against the starlit sky.

“Warships!” he barked as a cold chill made its way up his spine.

They’re coming!! Everyone down to Rinzen, NOW!!

Within seconds, the Makhás adepts vanished from the rocky platform, leaving the slopes of Tsari to the howl of the wind.