Nothing happened and the tingling sensation passed, causing him to slump back in defeat.

A sound like thunder shook the walls, similar to what he’d felt earlier before, when he’d thought something had exploded outside the fortress. Except this was no explosion, but a surge of magical energy, well-targeted, hitting one of the two guards dead in the chest, his armor cracking like it wasn’t made of metal but the shell of an egg, crumbling away with a series of clanks.

A war cry sounded just after, the pounding of heavy steps providing an accompaniment, and then an exceptionally tall woman charged into view, not armored in the conventional manner, with plate or mail, but with strange, segmented panels locked together. Rather than wearing the armor, it seemed to be attached to her skin, or maybe it was her skin. Whatever the case, she lowered her shoulder and hammered into the man whose armor had been destroyed, picking him up and slamming him onto his back.

While her attention was away from him, the last guard offered a powerful overhand chop to the woman’s back, his blade ringing out as sparks flew. The woman stood to her full height, turning toward the guard, whose eyes widened in shock. With a high-pitched shriek, he turned tail and ran.

To Cainan’s surprise, the woman began laughing, the happy-go-lucky sound soon joined by other laughs, some gruff others less so. But they were all cut off when a familiar voice snapped, “Silence.” The tall woman moved aside, eyes diverted to her feet, making way for someone Cainan hadn’t seen in thirty-eight years. Someone he thought might be dead, or babbling to herself as she begged on the streets of some Finfallian city.

Someone who now stepped into view…sort of. Her bare feet never actually touched the floor, though she moved them like she was walking, white, shimmering dress flowing about her like a crystalline liquid infused with tiny bubbles.

Sinna Marin looked nothing like the frantic, stuttering woman he’d last seen on the edge of the Rocklands on the night she’d been exiled. She looked strong, composed, beautiful in a rather scary sort of way, and, more than anything, completely in control of everything and everyone around her, including the strange and motley assortment of figures that crowded in behind her. The dwarf. The tall woman. A broad-shouldered, smiling man. A young, pale girl. And a black-haired boy wearing a scowl.

“Hello, Cainan,” Sinna said. “It’s been a minute, hasn’t it? Did you miss me?”

Twenty years earlier

Last Dawn, Finfalla

Cainan knew things weren’t as right as they appeared to be when he heard his wife whispering to herself. Still, he hoped that when he opened the door he’d find Bryony sitting in her lap as Cora told her a story.

He eased the door open.

Peeked inside.