Denna

DENNA

W hat a cheater! Maybe I shouldn't have expected anything else from the leader of a band of outlaws, but that was completely unfair, knocking me to the ground. Holding me down.

My heart fluttered, throat dry.

Why had the whole incident felt so familiar?

His face, painted in shadows by the firelight, was darkest bronze, eyes concentric circles of blue and green.

"It's you," I babbled.

The man from my visions in the Tomb. He was real?

"It's you," he repeated.

To my shock, he pulled my cloak aside to reveal the stiff vest I'd taken from Niam's trunk.

"Armor. You're wearing armor."

Other men gathered around, standing over me. I thought their expressions would be angry. Instead, they only seemed curious.

They looked much like the dream man. Metallic brown skin with an orangish hue. Some more red, others more yellow. Long hair in blues and greens. Weird, concentric pupils.

I was surrounded by statues. Armed statues.

One of them angled his head. "She didn't bring fire down upon us. Or blast us with plague."

"She's not a Frostling," the dream man said.

"Of course she is," the other insisted. "Definitive Frostling. Look at her. Pale as death. Freaky, solid-colored eyes."

He still pinned me down. I tried to wiggle out from under him, but his grip tightened.

"No. I've met another like her. She's from the forbidden south. The Canyonlands."

How did dream man know someone like me? "From Terr?" I said.

"Mayhap that's where Frostlings have always come from." The one with the spear shrugged.

I didn't know what a Frostling was.

Suddenly, I realized I understood their language, could feel the words on my tongue.

The Tomb, the hidden thoughts it had always put in my brain.

It was the only answer. Back at the temple, that was how we were instructed in the strange rituals that the priests demanded. I'd become accustomed to my hands moving with knowledge I shouldn't have.

But how did the temple know these strangers' tongue?

"Are you enjoying yourself, sitting on top of me?" I challenged the dream man.

His bronze face colored. Flustered, he put his hands on the floor to rise.

And then it happened.

From the opening of his shirt, a pendant on a chain fell out. As it did, the tracker around my neck worked itself out of my dress.

The two of them hung in the air, quivering, drawn to each other.

My eyes locked onto the irregularly shaped piece of silver dangling from the dream man's neck. It pulsed with a soft blue light, delicate patterns etched into its metallic surface. The light danced across the circular crystal at its center, hypnotic and alien.

I tore my gaze away, focusing on the man's face instead. His expression mirrored my own shock and confusion.

"What..." I started, unsure how to even form the question.

The dream man's grip on me loosened. He sat back, eyes darting between our necklaces.

"This is impossible," he breathed.

The other Shakai crowded closer, murmuring among themselves. Their earlier wariness forgotten in the face of this new mystery.

"That's what I'm here for!" I cried and tried to yank free, to grab it.

The dream man stared but kept back as both pendants still pulled toward each other until mine sounded a low series of tones, and whatever had pulled them together stopped just as suddenly.

"Let me go! I need that," I said, reaching for his necklace.

"No. You can't. It was from…"

"Get off her already, Korrin. We aren't going to let her escape."

Korrin . Yes. The name sounded smooth in my thoughts. I didn't understand why it was so familiar.

I didn't understand why I felt disappointed when he let me loose.

Then he reached to help me to my feet.

The other men kept their distance while I put the tracker back in place and eyed the pendant around dream man's neck—Korrin's neck.

Korrin held my hand even after I rose.

I looked at our fingers twined together. "You don't fear me?"

The others glanced at each other. Stood a little taller. Came a little closer.

"I don't," Korrin said. "I feel…"

Feel what? He didn't elaborate.

"I am Roji, Frostling," the big one said.

"I'm—"

"She's ," Korrin answered for me.

Roji gave Korrin a long look, then faced me. "You apparently know him." He waved at Korrin. "This is Borunn. Jaix. Madzun. Vornn. Sidik. Surant. We are of the Shakai."

They nodded, but kept some distance.

"The pendant that Korrin wears," Roji pressed on. "It is strange, uncanny. Why do you want it?"

Sneaking hadn't worked.

Maybe it was time for a new tactic.

"It's a part of the temple. Where I'm from. A needed part, although I know not its purpose. Another human like me, called Mila, was sent out for another part. I have to find her."

Korrin snapped to attention when I said her name, but stayed silent.

"There have been rumors. Frostlings in the capitol, in the palace castle, the fortress of Zashi," Borunn said.

"I need your necklace for my mission." Looking Korrin in the eye, I asked, "What can I give you for it? I would trade anything."

His eyes widened a little. Looked me up and down. "Anything?"

Trying to hide a blush at his reaction, I said, "Anything I own."

"Your sword?" Korrin asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Your armor?" he pressed.

Jaix smiled. "That would look fetching on you, captain."

"Anything," I said again.

Korrin broke his gaze. "I'm sorry. I can't. The necklace was a gift."

"Who would give you such a horrid gift?" Roji asked.

"Shut up, Roji," Borunn said.

Korrin scowled at Roji. "My mother."

With a contrite expression, Roji walked to the fire and pulled out a skewer of meat.

Their leader walked away, packing his gear.

"For now, it's all he has left of her," Jaix whispered to me.

I didn't know what to make of that. How had the mother of an outlaw leader gotten hold of the relic?