Or’myr swallows. “After we’re done decimating Vogel’s forces, feel free to visit me in my geomancy lab,” he offers. “Or anywhere really...for conversation...or tea...or to kiss my cheek as often as you like.”

Tierney flashes him a suggestive glance. “I just might take you up on that. I rather like the look you’re giving me.” She slides the Xishlon’lure into her pocket, shoots him an affectionate smile, then steps away, climbing deftly over the stone railing that abuts the tributary’s bank.

“Where are you going?” he asks, completely under her spell. Wishing he could spend the whole purple night with her.

Tierney frowns toward the Vo Mountains. “To the Vo Forest. My kelpies unearthed something curious there.” She nods toward the Wyvernguard soldier who just arrived to take her place on the stream’s other side. “My watch just ended, so I think I’ll take a look. They’re sending me confusing images through the water, and I don’t know what to make of it.”

“Images of what?”

Tierney shakes her head, as if trying to puzzle it out. “A small, stagnant pool. There’s nothing out of the ordinary about this image—that’s what’s confusing me. The forest is full of death as well as life. It’s the natural way of things.”

Or’myr raises a brow. “You sound like a Death Fae.”

Tierney smiles a bit at this. “I suppose I do.”

“So...you’re going to spend the evening investigating a stagnant pool of water?” His lip quirks in spite of how much he’s pining for her. “And I thought I was going to have the least romantic Xishlon of anyone.”

“No, I win,” Tierney rejoins. She gives him one last rueful look. “Except for being with you for a moment, Or’myr. I like you, and I don’t regret kissing you. Maybe someday we’ll find a way to try that kiss again.”

And then she dives straight into the stream, dissolving into the water, her sparkling blue form flowing out toward her kindred river, on her way to the forest beyond.

Or’myr watches until her shimmering outline disappears from sight, his gaze traveling toward the Vo Mountains, residual lightning crackling through his lines. He closes his eyes, struggling to gather his Xishlon-scattered wits. Then he pulls in a deep breath and resumes his trek back toward his rune skiff, wondering the whole time what Tierney’s kelpies have unearthed out there.

CHAPTER TWO

VOID FOREST

Tierney Calix

Xishlon night, twenty-first hour

Tierney glances at the purple moon from where she kneels, her hand in the small forest pool, the deep plum of the trees dappled with the Xishlon moon’s bright violet light.