She took up the powder brush and gave one final quick swipe to the back of her neck. Her upswept hair bared the silvery-gray mark there, the peculiar scar a legacy of a very strange encounter years ago. It had left her flesh unnaturally sensitive. A kiss from Reyn there was almost as sensual as a touch to the Elderling crown that had developed on her brow. As Malta rose to return to her wardrobe and packing, Jani ventured into her chamber. She closed the door behind her, shutting out the rising wind of yet another winter storm.

It was not unusual for her husband’s mother to drop in for a visit unannounced. Over the years of her marriage, Malta had become accustomed to it. Her room might be a completely separate structure, but it was still part of Reyn’s ancestral home. All the various rooms and chambers in this tree were a part of Jani Khuprus’s “house,” just as Malta’s bedchamber in her Bingtown family home was still a part of her mother’s house. To Jani, it was not a visit, but just a stroll down a corridor, even if that corridor was an airy pathway that followed the sweep of a vast tree limb.

Generations ago, when the Satrap of Jamaillia had first exiled “criminals” to the Rain Wilds, Reyn’s ancestors had chosen this tree. The sturdy lower branches that had once held their first dwellings now supported their counting houses and places of commerce, the shops where Elderling artifacts were cleaned and examined for magical properties, the work areas where sawyers had once sliced sections of wizardwood logs into planks, and the warehouses where, to this day, merchandise was stored and displayed until buyers could be found for it. The next layer of branches supported the dwelling chambers of the family. There was a large formal dining hall, built of solid wood and surrounding the entire trunk of the tree. It was as sturdy as any Bingtown mansion. Beyond, in chambers radiating out from the central trunk, were studies and morning rooms, bedchambers and sewing rooms, rooms for guests and bathing chambers and gaming rooms. Each structure stood apart from the others. Some sat solidly upon a fan of adjacent branches; others swung like birdhouses, suspended where they might capture sunlight and gentle winds. They were connected by pathways that followed the supporting limbs of the trees or man-made bridges and trolleys.