Chapter Three

Time Changes Things

Ian and Eena held hands beneath the table as they tried to concentrate on the ramblings of Jorban and other council members. It was hard to keep focused on itinerary revisions and the minister’s supplemental instructions. The day’s events seemed trivial compared to what was on their minds: they were in love and finally free to show it.

(I want a pink wedding,) Eena blurted out amid Ian’s thoughts.

(Shush, I’m trying to concentrate. Jorban just said something about a meeting before the banquet. I think we’re supposed to be there.)

(Okay, okay.) She threw her gaze across the table at the old minister and watched him tap at the air with a boney finger as he read off the names of dignitaries invited to the banquet. She quickly lost interest. (You can handle a few pink flowers in our wedding, can’t you?)

(I don’t care if the whole gathering is pink, Eena, just be quiet.)

(Sheesh, you don’t have to be rude.)

Sensing that his curtness had bruised her feelings, Ian squeezed her hand apologetically. (I’m just trying to listen. You should too.)

In an honest attempt to focus on the meeting, Eena raised her chin and squinted at those who were speaking. It was only minutes later when Ian commented on her wandering thoughts.

(You can make your lady friends wear pink gowns if you want, and if you’re lucky you might even convince my friends to sport a pink boutonnière, but I am absolutely not wearing a pink dress jacket in front of all of Harrowbeth, Eena.)

(You said the whole gathering could be pink.)

(I meant the wedding, not me! And besides, the two of us will be in white. It’s traditional.)

“Ian?” The pair looked across the table, hearing Jorban interrupt their telepathic conversation.

“Uh, sorry, sir. I was just….thinking. What was it you were saying?”

“A date,” the old minister chuckled. A smile communicated his awareness of the young couple’s preoccupation with one another. “Have you and Sha Eena considered a date for your wedding?”

Eena inclined her head, fully tuned in to the conversation.

(Yeah, now you pay attention.)

Ignoring his snide remark, she told her fiancé, (I want to get married soon. Next month.)

(I doubt that would allow enough time for preparations.)

(Okay then, two months.)

Their attention was drawn to the table when a calendar unfolded in front of them. It was long and rectangular with Demptar’s Time Table laid out in evenly-spaced columns. Harrowbeth’s calendar year consisted of four seasons, each divided into four months. Mia Rahn pointed at a date, low on one of the middle columns.

“Sha Eena, this is the anniversary of your parents’ wedding. It’s just five months from now. Perhaps that would be a fitting day for you to marry.”

(Five whole months?)

(That would give everyone plenty of time to prepare.)

(More than enough time,) Eena groaned. She caught Ian’s humored smirk before he announced aloud, “I think that would be a perfect date, councilor. Eena, what do you think?”

Wishing her parents had married earlier in the year, she agreed to it anyway.

“That sounds fine.”

“Wonderful!” Mia Rahn smiled agreeably and reclaimed her calendar.

Sensing Eena’s disappointment, Ian tried to convince his future wife that a warm-weather wedding would be nicer for all the guests.

(Like I’m bothered by weather,) she grumbled. (I could make it snow in the middle of a scorching heat wave if I wanted to.)

(You’re right.) He rubbed the back of her hand beneath the table, aware of how it made her feel better.

The sun was shining outside, slowly climbing behind a veil of clouds in a powder-blue sky. The chilly air encouraged heavier clothing, but a combination of no breeze and the sun’s bright rays created warm-enough conditions. The merry crowd added to a sense of warmness.

Having just landed their shuttles on Lascar Grounds, Eena, Ian, and the entire Harrowbethian council set off across the castle yard, escorted by ample guards. They were headed for a covered stage where a podium and fancy seating awaited. The assembled masses cleared a path for the armed security: thirty of Jerin’s finest men dressed in black uniforms and red tabards. Their matching official garments were embroidered with Harrowbeth’s national crest, consisting of a majestic crioness clutching his seven-pointed star. Black boots, silver helmets, and fancifully sheathed swords completed the guards’ attire.

Ian was dutifully following his queen, walking alongside his father. He would remain in that position until they made their surprise announcement to the multitude gathered on Lacsar Grounds. The significance of the moment kept him unusually quiet, voicing no witty observations or anxious remarks in Eena’s mind. When she glanced over her shoulder to make certain he was still with her, Ian responded to her concerns.

(I’m fine, Eena.)

(Are you sure?) She imagined he was battling the same anxiety she was.

(Yes, I’m sure. It’s Father I’m concerned about. He wants to call Mother and let her know what’s going on before everything is announced to the world.)

Eena exhaled nervously. (Gaila’s going to be upset.)

(Livid is more likely,) Ian predicted. (I’m not sure Father will be allowed in the house tonight.)

(Because he decided to support us?)

(And because stepping in as your protector means that once again he’ll be away from home a lot.)

(Oh, I didn’t think about that. Maybe it won’t be quite so bad since I still have you with me most of the time. I won’t need him as often.)

(You don’t know Father. He’ll insist on following proper protocol, being by your side daily. He figures it’s his duty.)

Eena groaned internally. (Gaila’s going to hate us all.)

(I wouldn’t anticipate a warm homecoming.)

(I’m staying in the castle tonight,) Eena decided.

(I think we all are,) Ian agreed.

Eena took her seat center stage when Jorban gestured to a single, high-backed chair. It was positioned in the middle of a half-circle of wide, shorter chairs. All the seats were constructed from heavy, dark wood with cushions upholstered in crimson. The young queen found herself surrounded by council members, all but Jorban who approached the podium straight away. His presence generated a quick hush throughout the crowd. The guards in their fancy red tabards lined up along the front of the stage, standing at attention. Eena imagined Ian and Unan were standing tall behind her.

(We are.) Eena found it comforting to know that Ian was always aware of her concerns.

“Welcome one and all to the long-awaited eighteenth birthday celebration of our beloved queen, Sha Eena!” Jorban made his opening announcement with his hands raised high, a bright smile creasing his rosy cheeks. After a moment of festive cheers, he went on with a speech that officially commenced the festivities.

“I would like to extend our warmest welcome to the numerous dignitaries and their associates in attendance today and to the talented guests who are here to contribute to a special lineup of entertainment. A great deal of thanks goes out to the hardworking citizens of Harrowbeth who have been laboring for weeks to make this one of the grandest days our people recognize.”

There was a pause for applause before the head councilman continued.

“The eighteenth birthday of a Sha has always been viewed as a rite of passage. A time for the upcoming healer and queen to take an important step towards her destiny. Presently, circumstances are unlike what they have typically been in the days of our ancestors. Sha Eena, our young queen, was forced to take her place as healer and acting Sha much earlier than any other in recorded history. Unfortunate and harrowing events made this necessary. But she stands before you today quite capable of the calling she was born to bear.”

Jorban waited as shouts of praise and tribute sounded from the crowd. When he spoke again, his voice fell low and somewhat grave.

“Our Sha survived harsh trials during her return journey to Moccobatra. Recently, she was forced to endure further hardships, including suffering the loss of Harrowbeth’s hope for a promising future Shen. Kahm Derian’s death was a heavy blow to us all, and a painful heartache for our young queen. Today would have been the customary time for Sha Eena and Kahm Derian to announce their intent to marry. And traditionally, we would have eagerly anticipated the revealing of their wedding date. Sadly, that will not be the case.”

A respectful hush claimed the air at Jorban’s words. This quiet reverence sent a shiver down Eena’s spine. She scanned the sea of faces, noting sympathy and pity as a common readable expression. The pity didn’t bother her as it once had. Her eyes shifted back to Jorban when his voice broke the silence.

“We all know that time has a way of healing things. It also has the fascinating ability to change us. Time is a medicine of sorts that mends wounds, especially those inflicted upon the heart. It has been months since Kahm Derian’s death, and Sha Eena has survived a tormenting grieving process. But she is moving on, as difficult as it is. The council and I have spoken with her and discussed her plans for the future. We, as a collective council, have voted to support her plans. Given that they affect all of Harrowbeth, albeit they are still of a personal nature, I feel it appropriate for our queen to make her own announcement.”

There was a low rumble of anticipation as Jorban turned his head, making eye contact with the young woman seated in the prominent chair behind him.

“Sha Eena,” he said, inviting her forward. Stepping away from the podium, Jorban found a place in the last empty seat on stage.

To give the appearance of more confidence than she honestly felt, Sha Eena held her head high while approaching the podium. Her first desire was to have Ian at her side, but a quick change of mind communicated for him to stay where he was. Her bright eyes scanned the waiting crowd. She cleared her throat before addressing the people.

“Beloved citizens of Harrowbeth. Dear friends. Honored guests from all over Moccobatra. Thank you all for being here today to celebrate my birthday. Honestly, I don’t even know how a birthday is normally observed in Harrowbeth, other than the few things I’ve been told. I do know that this day, the dawn of my eighteenth year of life, is honored grandly for one sole purpose—to ensure the future of Moccobatra by solidifying a Sha’s promise to marry. I wish to keep that tradition.”

There was a mild buzz of curiosity from the audience. Eena waited for the voices to hush before continuing.

“I loved Kahm Derian very much. I wish he were here today, alive and well, so we could keep our promise and marry as planned. But such a wish is impossible now. Over the past few months, as I grieved for his loss and worked to heal my broken heart, one person stood beside me as a true friend and comforter. Someone I have grown to care for. Someone I love.”

Eena bit her lip as an eager murmur took over. She scanned the audience again, anxious to find familiar, friendly faces. A party of Grotts towered over the assemblage from the rear, including Master Ravelly and his son, Wahlister, but their expressions were unreadable. Efren was easy to spot as well, standing amid the crowd with Kira leaning against him. A perfectly arched eyebrow accentuated the Mishmorat’s beautiful knowing stare. Corr Bellon and a handful of Icromians were also in attendance. The Prime Director was watching her with a tightened forehead while his associates talked in whispers as fast as their wings twitched on their backs. Eena didn’t stop searching the crowd until her eyes singled out a person she had not expected to see.

Gaila.

A gasp rushed down the young queen’s throat as she observed her adopted mother pushing through the congestion of bodies, hurrying forward as if hoping to stop a child from stepping off the curb into heavy traffic before tragedy struck. The fret in Gaila’s face made Eena bite down on her lips. She held her breath when the woman looked up, locking a wide-eyed gaze on her adopted daughter. Gaila stopped racing toward the stage and shook her head as if begging Eena to say nothing more, to refrain from speaking the words which would alter the way others looked at their family forever.

Eena swallowed hard.

This wonderful, caring woman would probably hate her forever for speaking up, but she loved Ian too much to continue hiding it from the world. Her tone changed—a soft, compelling plea directed at Gaila. One in a crowd of many. The only one she sought to convince.

“I love him. I love him and he loves me. We’re good together, more than you can imagine. All my life, since the day I was born, he has been faithful to me and to Harrowbeth, standing beside me even as a child. He knows me better than anyone. His every action has always been for my benefit. He makes me laugh and he makes me smile. He lifts me up when I’m down, supports me when I’m overwhelmed, and comforts me when I’m burdened with worries. But most importantly, he makes me happy. Because of him, I’m alive and well and happy again, wanting to move on.

“I love him with all my heart and I want to marry him. He is good for me, and hence this marriage will be good for Harrowbeth. I already have the council’s support. What I’m asking for now is yours. Regardless of whether or not it stands within the bounds of customary marriage arrangements, I plan to marry my protector, Ian.”

Eena’s heart sank at the way Gaila’s eyes wilted; her features sagged in a landslide of shame and despair. The young queen felt horrible, and yet hopeful at the same time. It was a loud exclamation made by a familiar voice that pulled her eyes away from her adopted mother.

“We do support you, Sha Eena! We stand by you, as always!”

She smiled down at Jerin who stood tall and proud in front of the stage. A cheerful grin bolstered his cry. It was followed by many other shouts of support.

“We stand by you too!”

“Hail the Queen of Harrowbeth, and her new suitor!”

“Hooray for the future of Moccobatra!”

“Hooray for a new Shen! Ian!”

Before long, it was one word that rose from the crowd, starting out as a cheer and then turning into a progressively louder chant.

“Ian! Ian! I-an! I-an! I-an!”

Eena finally turned around to look into her best friend’s eyes. He was still parked dutifully beside his father, appearing somewhat alarmed.

(Ian, I think they want to hear from you.) Her fingers beckoned him forward.

(Wh..what do I say?) He glanced around at the mass of individuals cheerfully chanting his name.

(Say something profound and inspiring.) She couldn’t keep from giggling at how he reminded her of a frightened child. (Or you could simply say thank you.) Always good advice.

As the future Shen took position behind the podium, the chanting died down until an expectant hush claimed the chilly air. Eena found Gaila in the crowd again. She could see the woman’s face tangled up with emotion, her cheeks glistening with tears. The site induced another pang of guilt.

“Thank you,” Ian muttered aloud, “from the bottom of my heart for such a display of support. I promise I will give my all to Harrowbeth in this new position of Shen, just as I have done in my calling as protector.” His eyes glanced sideways at his future wife. “I promise Sha Eena that I will do everything in my power to be the best, most attentive husband I can possibly be. She has always been my top priority. That will never change.”

A roar of approval erupted from below—shouts of joy and acceptance. Eena noticed how Gaila wiped at her cheeks to erase evidence of tears. Sensing Jorban’s presence beside her, the young queen turned her attention back to the podium. The minister was taking over. Ian seemed more than willing to let him.

“I understand there are concerns regarding Ian’s ability to fill two vital roles, that of Shen and protector to our valued queen. Rest assured, this will not be expected of him. He is standing down as Sha Eena’s protector.”

Realizing what Jorban was about to announce, Eena panicked. Her attention shifted fretfully to Gaila who was concentrating on this new information, her curious eyes still glistening from excess moisture.

“Ian’s father, Unan, has agreed to take over the position of Sha protector. This change takes effect immediately.”

If Unan were hoping for a supportive reaction from his wife, it didn’t appear he would get one. Eena twisted her neck to look at him, finding the old man stepping up dutifully behind her. His serious focus was on Jorban. She imagined he wasn’t even aware that his wife was in the audience. Worried for her adoptive parents, Eena pressed her thoughts onto Ian.

(This is the worst way she could have learned the news.)

(I know, I know, but there’s nothing we can do about it now. Just let Mother think it over. She needs time.)

Jorban was speaking cheerfully to an excited crowd when Eena realized his bright eyes had landed on her. “Would you care to be the one to share this information?”

She blinked unknowingly at him, uncertain as to what he wanted. Luckily, her attentive fiancé stepped up to save her.

“We’ll announce it together,” Ian smiled. He held out his hand, which his queen accepted with a sigh of relief. Lifting their clasped hands high in the air, the future Shen of Harrowbeth announced to a waiting audience, “We have chosen a date for our wedding. It will be held on the sixteenth day of the month of Dehiira, the anniversary of Sha Eena’s parents.”

Cheers rang from the crowd; congratulatory shouts mingled with thunderous applause. After that, the young couple stepped back while Jorban continued to speak, running through a schedule of events for the day. Eena was curious about the first mentioned activity, a meerlot hunt for youngsters. It was scheduled to begin within the next few minutes. She didn’t pay much attention to the remaining announcements, too worried about her adopted mother.

(She’s going to be okay, Eena.)

(I just feel horrible. I wish she had stayed home.)

(And heard the news from her gossipy friends? That would have been worse.)

Eena sighed dismally, agreeing. (If only we could convince her to be happy about this. It’s not such a horrible thing—you and I getting married.)

(I’m hoping she considers how positively the crowd reacted to our news. I know her real worry is that her friends will be critical. She’s afraid her women’s auxiliary will shun her for our disregard of tradition.)

(Maybe if I were to talk to them…)

(Wait.) Ian held up a silencing finger, despite the fact that their conversation was taking place telepathically. His head turned towards the crowd, his neck stretching to see beyond the initial swarm of bodies. Eena tried to follow his gaze into the distance, but she couldn’t guess who or what he was staring at. After scanning the many faces, she finally disrupted his concentration.

(Who are you looking for? Tell me what’s going on.) Her curiosity increased when Ian’s lips inched up at each corner to form a tiny grin. He squeezed her hand lightly before turning his twinkling eyes on her.

(Mother’s friends found her. They started searching for her the moment you announced our intent to marry.)

(Oh no, poor Gaila,) Eena breathed, although she couldn’t understand Ian’s wry grin.

(Poor Gaila, my foot,) he scoffed. (They’re jealous! Every one of those gossipy women are congratulating her. Apparently, as long as the council approves, so do they! That crotchety old Zelda even offered to baby-sit her granddaughter as soon as the new Sha is born. And now Juellz is telling her how lucky she is to be the mother of… of royalty!) Ian laughed out loud. (They don’t hate her, they want to be her!)

(This is wonderful!) Eena exclaimed.

(Yeah, we may be off the hook after all, now that Mother is the center of attention in her auxiliary.)

(I still feel bad that we worried her.)

(All this time she was certain her friends would judge our family poorly, that they would look down on us for setting aside Harrowbethian tradition.)

(But if Jorban’s okay with it…)

(...then apparently his vote outranks tradition!)

They both laughed, happy and relieved. Their merriment was cut short when a curious voice startled them from behind. It was Unan.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, uh, well…nothing,” Ian stammered.

Eena came forward with an explanation, wanting to ease Unan’s worries as well. She pointed into the crowd, gesturing towards the rear. Even though the women of whom she spoke were beyond her view, Eena spoke as if their faces were clearly visible.

“We were just noticing how Gaila’s friends are congratulating her on her new status as mother of a Shen. They seem awfully happy for her. I’m hoping their approval will ease her concerns.”

Unan strained to see, scanning the distant crowd for his wife. “I hope you’re right.” While he did this, Ian made a wise suggestion.

“I say we give her the day to soak up some of this attention before confronting her about it. She’ll be busy setting up for the banquet this afternoon anyway.”

“More than likely we’ll run into her then,” Unan said.

“And maybe by then, the idea of being the most envied grandmother in Harrowbeth will soften her,” Eena threw out.

“Grandmother?” Unan growled the word in question, his facial features tighter than ever.

“No, no, I didn’t mean anytime soon,” Eena quickly clarified, “but sometime in the future. After we’re married. Long, long after we’re married.”

Unan’s form visibly relaxed. He seemed to contemplate the idea of grandchildren. “Grandpa to a Sha, huh?” His lips twitched to form a silly grin. “I never thought about that.”

Council members had begun to rise from their seats, met by guarded escorts at the foot of the stairs. Ian pulled on Eena’s hand and walked her offstage. They maneuvered toward the festivities as the crowd was parted to make way for them.

(You certainly got Father’s attention. He’s intrigued with the idea of being a grandpa.) Ian chuckled at the old protector’s thoughts and then suggested with a twinkle in his eye, (Maybe that birthday wish you made for happiness will come true as soon as you’re pregnant.)

Eena nudged her future husband, blushing.

(You did make a promise to the council,) Ian reminded her, arching a plucky eyebrow.

She objected instantly. (It wasn’t an actual promise.)

(Ah, but you led us all to believe that it wouldn’t be long before an heir was born.)

She shrugged it off, maintaining she had sworn to nothing.

Ian straightened his posture in response to her attempt at back-pedaling. He announced out loud, “I can’t tell you how excited I am at the prospect of being a father soon. Have you thought of a name for our little girl?”

Eena’s eyes shot up at him, and her face flushed red. “No!” she squeaked, adding in a much quieter tone, “Shush, you jerk. Besides, what if our first child is a boy?”

Ian shook his head. “That won’t happen. Shas always have daughters first. Probably due to some sort of self-preservation mechanism in the necklace.”

“Really? Always?”

“Yes. It’s kind of like how protector’s wives always give birth to sons first. It keeps the line going.”

Eena’s forehead crinkled at a sudden concern. “But Ian, you’re a protector.”

“Oh right.” He paused as if the contradiction had just occurred to him. She could see the wheels turning behind his scrunched eyes. Then a devilish expression spread across his face. “I guess this means you’re going to have twins!”

Eena turned pale on the spot and gasped, “Oh please, no!” The thought of just one bawling baby was enough to make her anxious.

She elbowed Ian good and hard when he laughed at her worries. It didn’t stop his fun.

“Where are we going anyway?” he asked when his mirth finally died.

“To the meerlot hunt,” Eena said. “I’ve never seen one before. I’d like to participate.”

Ian agreed to go along, appreciating her excitement over a child’s game. “Perhaps we’ll find Willum and Xander there.”

She nodded eagerly. “That’s what I’m hoping.”

The meerlot hunt was scheduled to take place on the northwest side of Lacsar Castle where a large, lush garden provided plenty of hiding places for elusive meerlots. They had barely started in that direction when every eye turned skyward at the sound of approaching aircraft. The ships were foreign, unmistakably Semmian in design. Two vessels slowed, preparing to set down on the landing strip behind Lacsar Castle. Everything was suddenly a blur of apprehensive activity.

“Get her inside, now!”

“Form a blockade around those ships! Don’t let those Semmians set foot on our soil! Go, go!”

“You heard the minister, now move it!”

“Unan, take her upstairs, you’re her protector!”

“Yes, sir!”

Eena felt a tug on her arm.

“You men, help him. Keep her out of sight!”

Unan and a company of guards started moving their queen towards the castle steps. She resisted at first, wanting to stay and see what was happening. Orders from Jorban, Maxillium, and Jerin rang out, directing soldiers to obstruct any threat posed by the unexpected arrival of Semmians. These pale-faced intruders were considered potential enemies of Harrowbeth. It was impossible to know their motives. Impossible for anyone but Ian.

Eena begged her anxious new protector to pause for a moment, but he was focused on his duty. Between Unan and a second guard, they had their queen lifted off the ground and hauled to the castle steps. Her future husband had already taken off in a sprint towards the east end of the castle instead of keeping at her side as usual. Eena resorted to telepathic communication to speak to him, knowing her voice wouldn’t carry over the commotion.

(Ian, where are you going?)

(I need to meet the Semmians and find out their purpose for coming here. They know they weren’t invited. Their presence will only incite a riot.)

(I want to go with you,) Eena begged, struggling against the men who were carrying her up the castle steps.

(No, Eena. Just go with Father.)

(But I can help,) she whined, ready to argue the benefits of her assistance.

(Just follow orders, Eena. It’s your protection that everyone’s concerned about.)

(I don’t need any…)

(Just do it!)

His curtness stunned her, and she wondered if the position of Shen somehow brought out the bossiness in men. Heaven forbid if her gentle Ian was going to chide her like Derian used to.

(Eena, I don’t have time for this.) He was reading her thoughts still, not pleased with her comparison of him to the late captain.

The young queen took out her annoyance on her escorts. “For crying out loud, put me down!”

Grateful to feel the ground beneath her feet, she scurried up the remaining steps and passed by the lead guard in order to shove open the castle doors herself. Unan raced to keep up with her, relieved to see her cooperating. It only took a moment to realize he had assumed too much.

Reaching level ground, she sprinted.

Tearing through the castle like a doe on the run, she determined to reach the other end of the building before any overprotective hands halted her plans. The thought of victory gave her an adrenaline rush when her palms found the back door. But before she could successfully shove the heavy wooden barrier open, someone grabbed at her arms, yanking her away from the exit.

“Stop it!” she demanded, struggling with the guard who had been quick enough to catch her. The hard expression on Unan’s face as he drew near kept her from fighting back. His look of disappointment was surprisingly debilitating.

“Enough with this childish behavior, Eena! It is your safety on the line here!”

“I’m not in any danger!” she protested.

“That is not for you to decide!”

Unan took hold of her arm. The accompanying guard secured her other. When they attempted to move her away from the doors, Eena wouldn’t budge. The dragon’s soul glowed beneath her chin, gluing her feet to the floor.

“Enough!” Unan growled. “Get up to your room; it will be safer for you there. Move it!”

His parental manner nearly crushed her resolve, but sheer stubbornness kept her feet planted. He could at least hear her out.

“Unan, listen to me. Those Semmians are here to see me.”

“They were not invited,” he reminded her. “You should know more than anyone that those silver-haired devils are no friends to Harrowbeth!”

“Then what are they doing here on my birthday?”

Unan tugged on her arm, yet she stood her ground. “That’s for Jorban and my son to find out. Now head up to your room this instant!”

Eena widened her eyes at Unan’s sharp command. “I’m not a little girl to be bossed around.”

“Then quit behaving like one!” he retorted. She could read anger in his face—eyes tight, veins bulging at his temples.

“Would you calm down, Unan? Look, I know you’re worried for me, but all I want to do is see what’s going on outside. Can I just look out the window? Please? You can stand beside me if you like.”

The old protector failed to respond right away, his gaze fixed on his stubborn charge, analyzing her intent. The surrounding guard waited to hear his answer.

“You can’t make me move,” Eena boldly reminded them all.

The old protector breathed a frustrated sound. “It is my job to protect you, young lady.”

“Then protect me while I look out the window.”

She dared a single step in the direction of long, thin panes that bordered the back doors. With an exasperated groan, Unan allowed it. Eena hustled to peek outside with her protector’s close presence warming her back.

Squinting to see past the yard to where a cluster of Harrowbethian soldiers surrounded two Semmian ships, she could barely make out the forms of Jorban, Maxillium, Jerin, and Ian. All four men were facing a small party of silver-haired foreigners. It appeared that Jerin and his men were not allowing the Semmians to descend more than halfway down the exit ramps.

(Ian, what’s going on?)

Eena watched anxiously, her eyes darting from one ship to the other, looking for movement. After a long period of agonizing silence, she tried again.

(Ian, why are they here? What do they want?)

(They’ve come for your birthday. I don’t sense any ill intent, but Jorban’s not about to let them stay. They’re determined to see you before they go.)

(Why?)

(Their director sent a gift for you.)

(Aing?) She couldn’t imagine a good gift from that villain.

(Muhra Aing’s no longer their director. He was removed from power by his own people when they learned of his assassination attempt on our council. He’s awaiting trial now.)

(You never told me this.)

(You were preoccupied.)

She thought about Ian’s news. She thought about the birthday gift. (I’m coming out.)

(Eena, no, don’t. Just stay with Father. Jorban will get rid of them.) He knew she had no intention of listening before he even finished his thought.

(I want my present,) she said as if that were as good as any excuse to disregard orders.

Attempting to back away from the window, the young queen found herself detained by two firm hands, one on each shoulder. Unan’s fatherly instincts kicked in when she turned to face him.

“Where do you think you’re going, young lady?”

“I’m going out there. It’s my job to deal with diplomatic issues.”

“Jorban wants you to remain inside the castle,” Unan argued. His face was a tangle of aggravation and concern.

“The Semmians came here to see me. It’s my birthday.” She tried to sidestep him without success. He was determined not to allow her an easy escape.

“Look, Unan, if they really are crazy enough to come here with ill intent, the council is in danger, not me. They won’t hurt me; they want me alive.”

“We need you alive and safe.” Unan tightened his hold on her arm as he emphasized the vital word.

“I should be out there where I can protect the council. Not in here hiding. They need me, Unan.”

“No, they don’t. You’re staying right where you are.”

“Actually, I’m going.” Her decree had a curiously apologetic edge to it. When a sharp jolt of energy struck the old protector, his grip let loose. He recoiled—stunned—and shook his smarting hand. Eena lunged out of reach.

“Sorry, so sorry…”

The heavy wooden doors flew open as if a strong gust of wind pushed against them from outside. Two guards standing nearby were knocked down in the process. Eena jumped over them to make her escape.

“Sorry, really sorry…”

Once outside, she raced towards the airstrip. Unan and his men were quick to follow. Upon sight of the approaching young queen, Jerin ordered his soldiers to step aside and make room, contrary to Maxillium’s verbalized wishes. Eena returned Jerin’s deliberate nod with an appreciative nod of her own. She stopped inside the circle and faced their uninvited guests.

Taking courage in her arrival, the Semmians descended from their ships and met the queen of Harrowbeth on the ground. In a great gesture of respect, these silver-haired foreigners knelt to one knee and bowed. Chiming in chorus, they reverently spoke her name.

“Why have you come here?” she asked.

The leader of the small entourage answered her question, still kneeling. “My name is Colonel Guhvry. These are my men. We’ve come to offer our kindest wishes for your special birthday. We’ve also come to deliver a message from our Director.”

“Muhra Aing?”

The Semmians looked up with fretful eyes. “No, Sha Eena. That traitor does not speak for our people any longer. He is as much an enemy to us as he has proven himself to be to you. His punishment will be severe for such serious crimes against you and your government.”

“Then for whom do you speak?” she asked.

“Our new leader, Director Tuhtra Glenn.”

“I see. And what does he wish to tell me?”

The lead Semmian stood up. His companions rose to their feet as well. “Sha Eena, Director Tuhtra Glenn sends his deepest and sincerest apologies for the regrettable actions of our past director. He wishes for you to know that our people mean you no harm. Muhra Aing and those who assisted him with his reprehensible plans have been incarcerated and will be tried and sentenced soon. They are no longer a threat to you.”

“That is good news,” she agreed.

The Semmian went on with his message. “Director Tuhtra Glenn took it upon himself to study earth traditions concerning birthdays in the land where you spent your youth. He assumed such customs would be more familiar to you than those from our planet. He has sent us to wish you a ‘happy birthday’ and to give you this birthday present.”

The Colonel motioned for someone from behind to hand him the mentioned item. He took it and offered a nicely-wrapped gift to the young Sha. Jerin got his hands on the package first, treating the object like a potential danger.

Eena frowned and looked to Ian. He was already stepping up beside Jerin, whispering something into the man’s ear. It was enough to make Jerin hand over the package to their waiting queen. The entire company heard Maxillium express his anxious doubts.

“Are you sure this is wise? You have no idea what’s in there.”

Colonel Guhvry defended himself against the councilman’s ugly insinuations. “We would never harm the healer, I assure you. She is the key to life in our lands as well as yours.”

That seemed enough to ease concerns.

Eena couldn’t hide her enthusiasm as she unwrapped the Semmian package. Receiving birthday presents wasn’t a Harrowbethian tradition, although she thought it ought to be recognized as one. Who didn’t love presents?

Bright, crinkled wrapping fell to the ground, and a beautiful gift was revealed. Eena held up the item for everyone to see—a wide, curvy vase painted in neutral colors. The base was textured with a variety of sculpted flowers. At intervals around the perimeter, long twigs twisted their limbs up toward a smaller neck. Most appealing was the crioness sculpted at the top of the vase. The great creature’s wings reached out majestically from a rounded lip.

“This is amazing,” she breathed, continuing to study the details sculpted clear around the bottom of the piece. When she lowered the gift, her face was beaming with satisfaction. “Tell your Director I love the birthday present. It’s perfect.”

The Semmians bowed, satisfaction painted on their lips. “I shall pass on your message, Sha Eena.”

When a string of harsh criticism carried in the air, every head turned to where a hollering crowd of Harrowbethians and foreigners had managed to push their way through a wall of soldiers. The guards were scrambling to keep the mob from progressing any further. Jerin ordered additional men to manage the mob.

It was difficult for Eena to ask the Semmians to leave, but it was clear their presence would only incite further hostility. “I’m sorry, but you should be on your way. Too many ill feelings exist toward your people right now.”

The colonel nodded. He looked disappointed, but not surprised. “It is our hope that peaceful relations can be established once again between our nations.”

Eena kindly assured him it was only a matter of time. “A wise man recently told me that time has a way of changing things. I believe it won’t take long before your people stand in good favor with ours as before.”

“We will continue to strive for that day,” Colonel Guhvry promised her.

“I won’t forget your thoughtful gesture here,” Eena told him, holding up the vase. “I love the present. Thank you.”

“And thank you, Sha Eena, for seeing us.”

The Semmians bowed and then turned to board their ship. Eena’s gaze jumped to Ian with a sudden idea. “Wait a minute, Colonel Guhvry, don’t go just yet.”

Stopping in their tracks, the Semmians exchanged uncertain glances. Everyone wondered when they saw the young queen cup her hands in a gesture to Ian. The future Shen took off running towards the castle, and it looked as if Eena would follow him until Unan grabbed hold of her. She flashed the old protector a grimace before choosing a different course of action.

Turning her face skyward, she let her eyelids fall closed and raised one hand high. The dragon’s soul glimmered beneath her chin, grabbing everyone’s full attention. Her reaching hand made a circular motion, and within seconds a mild wind picked up that lowered the temperature of the air. It seemed to blow towards the group, whirling and gusting overhead. Soon after, a collection of natural debris was seen traveling within a miniature whirlwind, originating at the west end of the castle. The air carried its treasure to the one who called it forth, depositing a heap of leaves, twigs and other fragments at her feet. The breeze then dispersed.

Eena stooped down to pick up one specific item from the pile of rubble—a tiny, flat, x-shaped leaf with slight bumps on each extension. The wind had plucked it from a nearby tree and carried it to her. It was a seed. Her fingers closed around the treasure. Eena looked up in time to catch Ian hustling back to the group with the object she had requested.

People watched with curiosity when he placed a decorative bowl in the young Sha’s hand, exchanging it for her Semmian birthday present. The bowl was packed with black soil. Poking a hole in the center, Eena gently nudged the tiny seed into the dirt. The seedling responded at once to its healer’s gift of energy, and a tiny twig poked its way out of the pot, pointing straight up at the sky. The base of the twig thickened until an array of thin limbs sprouted from it like slender, reaching arms. Red-orange, webbed leaves formed on the branches. The developing plant quickly took on the appearance of a dwarfed version of a begonsta tree. Eena stopped the growth of the sapling when its roots were comfortably spread within the available soil. She then turned to the Semmians. Approaching the ramp, she offered the potted plant to Colonel Guhvry.

“Please give this to your director. Tell him it’s a gift from the reigning queen of Harrowbeth. Tell him that as this tree grows to be strong and healthy, I pray relations between our people develop likewise. Both, however, will take time.”

Colonel Guhvry smiled and bowed. His hands accepted the thoughtful gift. “I shall pass along your message, Sha Eena. Thank you.”

Once the Semmian ships took to the air, Eena found Ian and linked arms with him.

“Derian would have been proud of you today. That was amazing. Very mature and highly diplomatic.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Blushing, she tugged on her fiancé’s arm, urging him to hurry up. “Come on, come on, there’s a meerlot hunt to get to!”

Ian laughed and let her pull him along. “I sure hope time never changes your exuberance, Eena.”

“Oh, just hurry up so I can catch a meerlot!”

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