The room was crowded by the councils of two tribes, sitting in a double circle. There was one space free, between Kux and … Lilla came to an abrupt halt, joy swiftly subsumed by a sense of dread. It can’t be him. He shouldn’t be back this soon. Perhaps feeling the weight of his gaze, the man twisted and looked up, confirming what Lilla’s heart was already telling him from a single glance at those slender shoulders.

‘Tayan?’ His voice was hoarse.

Tayan scrambled to his feet and rushed into his arms, his expression complicated by too many emotions, before High Elder Vaqix rapped the smooth, polished stone on the floor in front of him. ‘Sit, please. There is much to talk over.’

‘Are you well, my heart?’ Lilla asked and Tayan nodded quickly, his eyes running over him with worried intensity, looking for fresh wounds or hurts. ‘I’m fine,’ he added soothingly, ‘but you weren’t at home. Have you only just now returned?’

‘I had to go straight to the shamans’ conclave to report; there wasn’t time to—’

Vaqix rapped the stone again.

Lilla tore his gaze from Tayan’s face and looked over his head at the high elder. Vaqix was tall and stooped, his beaked nose adding to the impression he gave of an angry vulture as he hunched on his cushion, glaring. Flanking him was Apok, the warriors’ elder, and Tika, the ejab elder, both sleek and powerful beside his gnarled frame. Lilla glanced back at Tayan again, at the formal blue band painted across his brow, and the second, slender line that ran from his bottom lip down the middle of his chin. The unfamiliar kilt was blue too – he had dressed in borrowed shaman’s finery for this meeting and Lilla’s heart ached to see him. He’d been gone for too long and, despite Vaqix’s glare, which had physical weight now – they were the only two still standing – he stole a soft, chaste kiss from his husband’s mouth and heard the tiny hitch in Tayan’s breathing, a sound he knew as well as he knew his own voice. It spoke of relief, and love, and want.

Lilla had so many questions, but instead they stepped into the circle and sat. Tayan squeezed Lilla’s hand and they held tight through the welcome of councillors, warriors, and travellers, and the formal invitation for Malel to witness the meeting.

‘Peace-weaver Betsu, Peace-weaver Tayan. Your return is swifter than expected. Have the Zellih agreed to our request?’ Vaqix’s tone was formal, his voice neutral, but there was tension in his shoulders.

Tayan’s hand became damp in Lilla’s grip as the silence grew heavy. ‘The Zellih say no, High Elder,’ he croaked, the usual music stolen from his voice. ‘They will not aid us against the Empire of Songs.’