Oval sat cross-legged at Fenix’s head, deep in meditation with the Mother to monitor the man’s answers. An incision made just above his lip was part of a spell that had transferred the knowledge of the speech of the Folk to Fenix so that he could speak and understand them.
“I am a visitor,” Fenix replied. Fortunately, his eyes were closed, and Mooriah did not have to worry about becoming distracted by their odd shade.
“A visitor from where?” Coal questioned.
“Far away.” He sounded wistful.
Crimson grunted and crossed well-muscled arms. “Were you sent here to steal from us? To plunder our valuables and take them back with you? Speak, Outsider!”
“I was sent to observe. I found myself in a cave and saw the jewels embedded in the wall. I did not realize it would be considered stealing to take one.”
“Hmph.” Crimson was not satisfied in the least.
“What were you sent to observe?” Ember asked, voice soft.
Fenix rolled over and groaned. Mooriah suspected he was acting a bit, playing up his pain and injuries. She appreciated the performance. “Why does my power not work in these caves? I should be able to heal myself, but I cannot.”
“So you are a sorcerer?” Coal’s voice rose. “We are protected from your magic here.”
If he was an Earthsinger, he was an unusual one. Though Mooriah had only ever seen her father on his rare visits, she knew that the Singers bore similar features—quite different to Fenix’s. She wished he’d answered Ember’s question, what was he supposed to be observing?
Crimson let out an annoyed sigh. “This interloper from the Outside has nothing of interest to relay. He is sentenced to death. We will have no one desecrating the Mother in such a manner, ignorant or not.”
Next to him, Rumble smiled while Ember’s expression stayed carefully blank. But his gaze flashed to hers for a moment, and she recognized sorrow there. She pressed her lips, keeping her own emotions in check. Why did either of them care what happened to a stranger? She could do nothing to stop it. She just hoped his death would be speedy and painless.
Swift footsteps raced down the tunnel towards the chamber. A messenger stopped there, bowing low. “Forgive me, Chieftain, but the sorcerer has arrived.” The young boy’s gaze flitted to Mooriah, and her breath caught. “He wouldn’t wait, he said he needs to speak with you immediately.”
Emerging from the darkness behind him was a hooded figure. His brown cloak hid his features, but Mooriah recognized the walk. He stepped into the chamber, moving past the messenger and bowing before the chieftain, before removing his hood.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but this is urgent,” he said, voice gravelly. “I must speak with my daughter.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Hello, Father.”
Seated across the fire from him in the chieftain’s quarters, Mooriah studied her father, Yllis. It had been close to eight years since she’d last seen him. His hair was coiled in thick, silver locs, which cascaded down his back. The coloring was that of an old man, but he was only in his mid-forties. His face was still unlined, but stress and strain had changed his hair color too early.
Over the years, he had visited to check in on her at seemingly at random intervals. Always he asked how her studies were progressing, how her control of her Song had improved. He showed a detached sort of interest in her life but nothing of the love and care she saw between other fathers and daughters. He did not hug her or murmur endearments. Once he’d stroked her face and looked at her mournfully before leaving.
Now, seated next to Crimson, he sipped tea. Oval and Murmur were there as well, both remaining quiet. Ember and Rumble sat just behind their father, not included exactly, but observing. Soaking up knowledge for the day one of them would become chief.
“Why have you come, sorcerer?” Crimson asked gruffly.
Yllis was solemn. “I bring news of the war to you.”
Crimson waved an arm. “We care nothing for your war. Whether you Outsiders annihilate yourselves or not means little to us.”
“Even if many of those killed are your kin?”
Crimson sniffed and sipped from his drinking bowl.
“We are all kin when it comes down to it,” Yllis said softly, staring into the fire. Ember frowned, but no one else acknowledged his statement.
“Father, what of the war? I thought there was peace now because of the Mantle. Why are you here?”