Tavi took Kitai’s hand and intertwined her fingers with his. He focused, and his sense of her presence suddenly leapt into something far more vibrant and detailed than simple proximity could accomplish alone. He concentrated on her, then upon the little presence, sharing its warmth and peace with Kitai.

Her green eyes went very wide. “Oh,” she said. Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, chala.” She suddenly broke into a smile, still weeping, and let out a quiet little laugh. “Oh, that’s beautiful.”

Tavi smiled at her and leaned down to kiss her very gently.

The three of them stayed like that, in the quiet, just for a little longer, treasuring that moment. Neither of them said it, but they both knew. Such moments were swiftly growing rarer and rarer.

And, in the next few days, they might even become extinct.

CHAPTER 40

CHAPTER 39

Bernard rode into the command center a few yards ahead of Amara and stopped to look slowly around him. Amara rode up beside her husband, and said nothing.

“Technically,” he said, “the old place is still Isanaholt. Elder Frederic hasn’t taken his oath yet.”

Amara smiled at him. “I still think of it as Bernardholt.”

Her husband shook his head. “I wasn’t ever really comfortable with that name. Me-holt. Sounded ridiculous.”

The steadholt around them was laid out like virtually every other steadholt in the Realm—with a large hall at its center, surrounded by an enormous barn and a number of workshops, homes, and other outbuildings. Unlike most of the Realm, which until recently had enjoyed a much less dangerous climate, every building was made of solid stone, proof against the frequent furystorms that plagued the Valley. It was also surrounded by a defensive wall—not a fortress wall, by any means, and it didn’t feature battlements, but it was thick, solid granite and showed no signs of weathering or decay.

Now, the hall, the workshops, and even the barn were all changed. The holders and their stock had long since been evacuated, just as had the seven smaller, newer steadholts that had been founded to the west of them, in what was (or shortly would be) vord-occupied territory. It was instead filled with armed and often armored men and women, legionares, Citizens, and volunteers. There were perhaps forty or fifty Marat in and about the steadholt as well. A gargant bellowed from the vast barn, where several of the wounded beasts had been quartered out of the weather, to be tended by their Marat handlers and by a trio of old farmhands from the Valley with a gift for husbandry.

Multiple broad staircases were new additions, and ran from the ground up to the steadholt’s walls. From there, a number of stone walkways led from the steadholt to the wall proper, a crenellated Legion-standard defensive structure twenty feet high.