“No, just… looking. My name is Nira. I am from Theroc.” She felt embarrassed and stupid, because with her green skin and human features, she couldn’t possibly be anyone else. “You are a… Designate, are you not? Another son of the Mage-Imperator?”

“What were you doing there?” he said, cutting off her question. “I am the Dobro Designate. Must I report your activities to my father?”

“I meant no harm. Prime Designate Jora’h told me I could explore wherever I wished.”

The Dobro Designate scowled at her. “So, our Saga of Seven Suns has grown dull and tedious for you, and you must find other ways to occupy your mind?”

“Not at all!” She felt ashamed and perplexed, not understanding what she had done wrong or why he was so upset with her. She glanced at the thick garnet glass. “I didn’t see anything. If this is a restricted area, I will be happy to return to my own quarters.”

“Perhaps that would be wisest,” the Dobro Designate said, his voice sharp.

“I… meant no harm,” she said again.

His eyes narrowed, and he studied her in silence, as if dissecting her. “Few people ever do.” Nira wondered what he meant by that.

She was about to turn and flee when he startled her with a gruff question. “Is it true that you green priests are telepathic? That you can send thoughts through the trees and exchange information and knowledge instantaneously?”

“Y-yes, we can,” she stammered. “The worldforest is vast and holds many thoughts. A green priest can touch all of them. Once we join with the forest, once we ‘take the green,’ we have access to telink.”

“Is this skill genetically based?” the Dobro Designate asked, stepping closer to her. “How is it possible?”

“Not… exactly genetic,” Nira said. “Although some Therons are better suited to the calling than others, the desire and ability does not necessarily breed true. The forest itself actually chooses. Many of our people know from childhood that they are meant to link with the worldforest. We commune with the trees, and we serve them.”

The Designate continued to scrutinize her, assessing, calculating. Then he dismissed her. “That is all. You may go.”

Startled and disoriented, Nira retreated down the corridor. Unsettled by the encounter, she paused and turned to watch as the Dobro Designate strode in the opposite direction. The dour man walked through several security gates and past bristling guard kith until he was allowed into the private chambers of his father, the Mage-Imperator.

78: MAGE-IMPERATOR

78MAGE-IMPERATOR

The door to the private contemplation chamber sealed behind the Dobro Designate, and the transparent magnifying walls misted over to become milky and impenetrable. No one could see them now. No one could guess what they intended to discuss.

The Designate bowed formally before the Mage-Imperator’s curved chrysalis chair. “I have arrived with my report as you commanded, Father.”