“When the world puts something in your path, best face it as Fate rather than trip like a fool rushing on.”-Giovanni (Sister of the Dead)

-~-~-~-

They find the brothers early the next morning, all sprawled limbs and tangled together. It’s not quite dawn yet, although the promise of the sun is a red line on the horizon. Anir knows them too well to know that they were asleep, but rather that they were resting their eyes. Eyes that had seen too much and were tired of looking and not finding.

And Anir tries not to look at them. He loves them both as brothers and uncles; they had watched over him when his father had been gone trading and tried to keep him out of trouble. But that doesn’t mean that they can’t unnerve him every time he sees them do something that’s not entirely human.

He’s seen them tame fire and make the seas rise with a word. It’s not natural and he knows it, but they are the flames that draw the moths. They’re fascinating and disturbing at the same time because they see things that people don’t want them to see, don’t want them to know and they whisper secrets that no one should have ever known.

Anir’s done terrible things in the name of survival, never flinching. He’s fought sea monsters and human monsters, but these two brothers, these quintessential beings in human skin, are unlike anything he’s ever seen or heard about before.

And he is fascinated by them. But the small piece of him in the back of his mind that’s still the small child who’s just lost his mother, is afraid of them.

And he’s taking a chance by having them on the ship. They’re priceless allies and friends, but he knows that they can’t be mentally stable right now, not with their sister a million miles away and the other six feet under.

But he’s willing to trust them.

They’ve been waking with the sun for longer than Anir’s been alive. Milar wakes first, blinking the cobwebs of sleep from his eyes. Gently, he nudged Lien, who had been using his shoulder as a headrest, and his brother shifted away from the touch, mumbling something. It wasn’t any use, really, because Milar knew his brother was awake and desperately wanted to slip back into the world of dreams.

“What’s happening?” Lien envied his brother. He had no vicious headaches to deal with this morning.

“Good morning.” Anir leaned against the rail beside them. “To answer your question, nothing yet. Something to be grateful for, really. There’s been rumors of a maelstrom in these parts, but I suppose someone up there likes us.”

“A maelstrom?” Lien looked at Anir through the corner of his left eye. “What’s possessed you to risk a maelstrom?”

“Do you trust me on this?”

“You know we do.” They wouldn’t trust anyone else on a ship.

“Then hush. Part of discovery is risking everything.” And the smuggler’s ship was truly all he had. The people on this ship were the only family Anir had left, the ship his only home. That kind of life wasn’t uncommon for people who refused to serve in courts.

“And what exactly are you seeking that you’re willing to risk everything?”

“One of the rarest of treasures. One guarded by sirens and undines. The treasure of the Lost City of the Sea Elves.”

Lien clambered to his feet, Milar following, but with more grace. “Your men will catch the Undine’s Curse! Never to sleep again!”

“We don’t let them catch us. That’s the point. The maelstrom is one of the security measures. They say that, should green lightning flash, turn your ship around. That that is where the maelstrom is. If we can find another way into the maelstrom other than a boat…”

“You still have to deal with sirens and undines and neither is prone to merciful acts.”

“I, uh…I was hoping you two could help.”

“What?!” It came out as a yelp.

“Look, I know that you’re looking for Nevaeh, I know! But the Sea Elves were said to hold secrets that no other culture on land held. They might have something that has something to do with bringing people back from the Warped Lands. And it might give you something to trade the Weavers with so they don’t kill you on sight.” Even as the brothers bristled for a rebuke, Anir cut ahead of them. “And, try as you might to deny it, Milar, you’re faerie pretty. They’ll think you are one and try to kill you for it.”

Lien smiled as his brother tugged at his hair self-consciously. “And me?”

“That’s the problem with sneaking you two anywhere. Lien, you could probably lay down in the dirt, and no one could tell the difference.” Lien frowned, but knew it was true. He was all browns, something that had served him well, but he still didn’t like hearing it put that way. “And your brother’s just too pretty for his own good. You guys stand out.”

Milar smiled. “Don’t blame your jealousy issues on me, Anir. You know you wish you could be this pretty.”

Anir gave him a look. “That mouth of yours too. It has to be a gene thing. All of you Santagniers have it.”

“And the problem isn’t sneaking us in, Anir.” Milar said. “It’s sneaking us out. Getting in is the easiest thing. All it takes is a little charm.”

Anir quirked an eyebrow at the twist of his lips that wasn’t quite a grin but wasn’t quite a smirk. Milar was right, of course. Those two could charm themselves in anywhere, but to not get noticed once inside was impossible. Milar knew he was ‘faerie pretty’ and he knew how to use it. Lien, on the other side of the spectrum, knew how to use his rather nondescript features as well. He could blend in anywhere, be anyone, because no one noticed the plain ones. They were a dangerous combination, and you learned to take heed of that fact if you wanted to be out of the way of them.

“You guys know Elven, don’t you?”

Lien nodded and Milar shrugged. “Sure. It isn’t a particularly difficult language. You want us to parlay with the sea elves so they don’t spear you like a pig?”

“Exactly. And,” Anir jabbed a finger into Lien’s chest. “Whatever you think you did that you think you could have done better to save Nevaeh, this is your chance to fix it.”

Lien rubbed at the spot that Anir had poked. It didn’t hurt, but it was an instinctive motion. It reminded Anir of a man nursing a broken heart. Lien smiled though, but neither his brother nor the captain knew why.

Anir, Lien mused, had his own charm. Oh, it wasn’t Milar’s kind of charm, where he was all smiles and wit, but the straight-forwardness had its own attraction. “Seeing as how you’re in charge of the ship, I don’t see how we’re allowed to refuse. Besides, you’ll need us to save your skin anyways.”

* * * *

“Fifteen men sitting on the dead’s holdings. But Death does not give his treasures freely. Prices must be paid for what you want…” The person examined the calluses on their hands. “And everything has a price.”

* * * *

Iris gripped the stair railing tightly as the ship heaved heavily. “What in God’s name is going on?”

“He’s got us caught in the maelstrom!” Milar swore as he leapt up the stairs, his brother following. He had hoped Anir had a better plan than this.

“Maelstrom?” Iris called up.
“No time to explain. Stay below deck!”

Iris began to say something, but slipped on the water that was spilling over the sides. She stumbled up the steps and found that it was difficult to see anything outside because of the rain and the tossing sea. She could just barely hear Anir shouting orders over the howling of the dangerous winds.

“Gods be damned, Santagniers! I need your help!”

There was Lien, struggling to keep his balance at the helm, his head bowed over his hands as though in prayer. But there was something, some energy, surrounding him. A sort of rainbow veil that shone in the dimness. His hair whipped around his face, brown eyes gleaming. He didn’t look anything like the mild-mannered fighter she’d known these past months. He looked feral. Dangerous.

Iris searched for Milar, fighting to distinguish individual shapes through the gathering darkness of the storm. A shout was all that alerted her when she looked up to see Milar pulling at a rope that was someone’s lifeline. She didn’t recognize the man, but Milar was gripping the mast with his thighs and was tugging the man to safety.

A sudden light that would have blinded Iris had it been any less dark shone and she jerked her head around. It was coming from Lien! A shimmering mist fell over the ship and the rain stopped, the water washed up over the mist.

“Thank the gods, Lien.” Anir said, almost regaining control over the helm. Lien staggered forward, clutching at his heaving chest. “Get in my cabin, brother. Rest there. You’ve done plenty.”

Iris ran up, skipping stairs, her soaked clothing clinging to her skin. She let Lien lean on her, his warm weight very solid against her. “I’ll take him.”

“You see to it, lass. And stay down there. This is no place for...a…woma-”Anir’s gaze flickered to her briefly. “I shouldn’t say it. It would be wrong. The both of you get belowdeck.”

Milar watched as Iris half-dragged his brother downstairs. He couldn’t go down and help, much as he might like to. He was the best suited for the job of securing the sails. He finished helping the man up. His face looked vaguely familiar, but then, most of the crew’s did. They almost all came from the same place and had grown up more or less together.

“Anything broken?” Milar asked, no longer being forced to yell over the storm. Lien’s barrier blocked sounds as well.

The man shook his head, though his hands were trembling on the wood beneath them.

“Good. Come on, stand up. We need to finish the job if we want to get out of here alive.” Milar stood, balancing easily on the wet wood. He quickly walked across the mast, pulling the sail closed in unison with the man, tying it securely. “Is it all good up there?” Milar called.

Someone poked their head over the higher sails. “Yeah! We’re gonna start climbin’ down!”

Milar jerked his head in a nod to the ground. “Come on.” He said to the man. “Down we go.”

Iris slumped against the wooden door, Lien lurching forward, having to grip the desk, which was bolted to the floor, to keep from falling entirely. The ship was listing beneath their feet and it didn’t help Lien’s tired mind.

“What are you that you could do something like that?” Iris asked.

“I uh…trained for some time at the Sorcerer’s Guild.”

“You don’t look like a magician.”

“I’m not. I only learned the arts. I’m not devoted to magic as they are. It drains me physically to do any sort of spell, but a spell on that kind of level, well you see the results in front of you. Those devoted to the magic like actual magicians and sorcerer’s, spells don’t tire them out as quickly.”

“So then what are you, if you’re not a magician? You’re a fugitive for a reason.”

“I’m going to repeat that last sentence back to you. I’m a fugitive for a reason. Getting you involved would only get you hurt.”

Iris couldn’t reply because it didn’t take an experienced seaman to know that the ship wasn’t pitching about wildly, but smoothly cutting through the water. It was all that much more unnerving because of the unnatural motion.

Milar gripped Anir’s shoulder. “You wanna tell me any plan you might have?”

“We can’t get out of this whirlpool that the storm made. It’ll be faster if we go with the flow of the storm.”

Milar didn’t scream, but it took effort. His hand tightened painfully on the captain’s shoulder for a moment before releasing him. “I chose to put my trust in you a long time ago. That trust still stands. Do you need me for anything else?”

“Go join your brother. Whatever sorcery he just did, while it helped, it weakened him. Best he have you nearby.”

Iris jumped as the door pushed open with her weight still on it. The pressure on the wood stopped and Milar’s wet head poked around the door. A smile lit his face. “Iris, I’m not quite thin enough to fit through here, so if you would be so kind as to take your weight off the door, I would be quite grateful.”

Iris stood upright and the rest of Milar came through the door. His hair tie had come out some time ago and the bronze locks were plastered to his face and shoulders. Lien leaned easily on Milar as Milar led him to Anir’s bed so they could both sit.

“That was some magic, brother.”

Lien managed a chuckle. “Ha. Yeah, compared to what I’ve seen you do.”

“I’m not good at barriers and such things, you know that.”

Iris joined them on what little was left of the bed. “So you both know magic?”

Identical smiles upturned their lips, but there was something not quite…right…about those expressions. “You got it.”

“Then why couldn’t you both have done the spell together and Lien wouldn’t be as tired now?”

“I just said, Lady. I’m not good at defensive spells.” Milar scooted back away from her, leaning against the wall with his knees pulled to his chest. Even now, Iris mused, he still showed no skin save for his face. The leather gloves were still on his hands, the long sleeves, while adhering themselves to his arms, still fell past his knuckles. “And two sorcerer’s, while the spell will be stronger, the possibility for distraction or a break in the spell is higher and that could bode some nasty surprises.”

“So wait, let me understand this. You two trained with Wenning since you were like, what, fifteen?” They nodded and she continued. “What chance did you have to learn magic?”

“Magicians and sorcerers are trained from a very young age. Usually around four, five. It ensures maximum retention and gives the instructors time to teach you control. Control is the first lesson. And the last. But when you get older, you don’t want to learn magic the right way, you just want to learn it whatever way possible.”

“Anything else you learned? Flower arrangement?”

“We didn’t learn flower arrangement, did we?” Milar looked at his brother.

“No, no. Besides, women are the only ones allowed to be taught that and the girls certainly didn’t teach us that.”

“Your sisters never learned flower arranging? Didn’t they serve in a court? It’s a requirement for women in a court to learn that.”

“Well, neither of them was very normal and they always went around, above and beyond any requirements. We were all sent to court as slaves. Slaves are for work, not for making things look pretty.” Milar leaned his head back against the wall with a sigh.

“What did Anir do?” Lien asked.

“He’s sending us all straight into the maelstrom. We’re caught in it. He says it might be another way out if we go directly into the eye of the storm.”

“I don’t know if he’s right, but he’s got guts, that man.”

“He’s insane!” Iris exclaimed. “We should be fighting to get out of this damned storm!”

Neither brother thought it would be a good time to tell her that Anir had known about the maelstrom, had planned on it being there.

“Lady,” Lien began patiently. “The entirety of life is learning the art of learning when to fight and when to let control of the helm go and let the waters take you where they will.”

Iris stood abruptly. “I can’t just let this happen!”

Milar let out a breath and looked at her wryly. “Your hair speaks the truth. You have much fire in you.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing, really. It was just an observation. But I have a question for you. What do you plan to do to change Anir’s mind? He’s the kind of man that, when he is set on a decision, he will defend his position to the very end. Do you have some plan that you can propose to him?”

“Um, no. I…I can’t do anything.”

“No, little witch, you can’t.”

“I’m not a witch!”

“I meant no insult. But your clairvoyance automatically makes you a witch. That fact is all to the good, from where I’m standing. Er…sitting.”

“I’m not that small either.”

“No, perhaps not by human age. But to many of the older races, you are barely a stripling.”

“The way you talk, it’s like you aren’t human.”

A slight smile twitched on Milar’s lips. “I’ve been so many places among so many people that sometimes, it’s easy to get removed from your culture. But maybe that’s part of the intrigue. If you belong nowhere, you can feel comfortable just about anywhere.”

“Our eldest sister always said that he used to remind her of a snake; always slipping out of one skin into another.” Lien told her, steadying himself on the bed as the ship rocked and creaked. “Gods, I hope Anir knows what he’s doing.”

“You know he does. Besides, not like it really matters. Regardless of whether he’s steering us toward the center of the maelstrom or not, that’s where we’re going to end up.”

Iris glared at Milar, who just gave her an innocent smile. “You’re a very cheery person, you know that? Very positive outlook on life.”

“I appreciate the sarcasm, really I do. But I’m a practical person, Iris. That’s something you can count on. I can think of ways off of this ship, about three actually. But it won’t get everyone off.”

“Why not save yourself?”

“I could probably save two of us. Three, if I use Useless Plan C.”

“Why is it useless? We might be able to live!”

“But it would mean abandoning people that I know and that have depended on me. They might need my skills. As something for future reference, I can’t help someone if they need me if I’m not here. Some magicians can do that. I’m not one of them.”

“Then why tell me all this?”

“You asked, didn’t you? I’m starting to discover that you have a knack for asking the right questions under pressure.” Milar stood, still with that odd grace that his brother seemed to lack, and strode past Iris and out the door.

Before Iris could say anything, Lien looked straight at her and said, “Don’t. I already know what you’re going to say and please don’t blame him. He doesn’t like sitting and not being able to do anything. He’s a man of action. Getting put down here, waiting to get sucked into a whirlpool makes him a little twitchy. He was wrong to take it out on you, but it’s not entirely his fault.”

“That was him angry?” Iris had to arch an eyebrow. She knew that Milar had a temper, but if that was the extent of it, then there really wasn’t a whole lot to worry about.

“Gods, no.” Lien chuckled, rising slowly and staggering forward. His magic-induced weakness wasn’t done fading yet. “No, Lady. When Milar is angry, you’ll know right away.”

* * * *

“That’s some sort of trust your men have in you, Anir.”

The captain glanced over his shoulder at Milar, not liking the way the older man was leaning his hip on the rail. Milar wasn’t moving other than the occasional sway of the ship, but there he was almost glowing with energy. And that made Anir wary. “Why do you say that?”

“I haven’t heard a word of complaint from any of them. It takes a certain kind of loyalty and trust to not say anything in a situation like this.”

“You’re restless.” Anir told him flatly. He knew the problem because Milar was a man of action. All of the Santagniers were.

Milar gripped the rail, watching the way that the sea churned with a detached interest. “That’s a rather abrupt change of subject. And if you really wish to know my answer, it’s because I have been trapped on this boat while being able to do nothing to really help. This tends to make me a little twitchy and restless.”

Anir’s eyes zeroed in on Milar’s hand. He was rubbing at the very center of his chest where, had his hand been able to go through skin, bone and muscle, his hand would have been between his shoulder blades. Right where his tattoo was. The tattoo was identical to the one that Lien had on his forehead. Anir sighed. “Listen, Milar. I know you don’t like sitting her doing nothing, but, short of diving into that whirlpool yourself, not that it would help any, there’s nothing you can do.”

Milar ran a hand through his hair. “I know, I know.”

Yes, he did know. He knew that it wasn’t being here on the ship that was making him like this. It wasn’t even the fact that this might very well be their time of dying. It was the fact that the other option had been to go to Reeve and possibly find an answer to saving his remaining sister. It was that Nevaeh wasn’t standing here beside them, helping them come up with possible escape plans or that she wasn’t balancing on the railing, face grinning at the storm, challenging it for all it was worth.

Neither man said another word, not even when Lien and Iris came to stand with them. Milar’s only movement was to wrap a supporting arm around his brother’s waist as Lien leaned on him weakly. It seemed that even the crew was staring out into the swirling death, all in absolute silence.

An enormous wave towered over them and while it didn’t hit them directly because of Lien’s barrier, it sent them even faster into the center of the whirlpool. For an instant, everyone found themselves suspended in mid-air as the boat lurched, throwing them forward.

Iris refused to release the rail and Anir had an arm protectively around her shoulders, the free hand gripping the rail as well. He was staring out into the darkness, whispering a prayer in his own language. The brothers were doing much the same. Iris could see them mouthing two words in their own silent litany.

In terrible dreamlike slowness, the boat balanced on the wave like it was teetering on the edge of the world. With a final shudder, the smuggling boat slipped into the swirling, roaring darkness. Timber crashed, masts fell. People were flung from the ruined deck, screaming.

And after the waters closed over their heads, two words floated through the water, lingering in ears.

“My sister…”

* * * *

I’m dying. I’m dead, I died.

The knowledge was bitter in the darkness. But how could anything be knowledge or be bitter if she was dead? She couldn’t move, her entire body limp and pleasantly numb, eyelids too heavy to lift.

“Lady…” Someone’s gentle hand was shaking her.

Iris groaned, barely managing to get her eyes even half-open. Milar had his gloved hand on her shoulder and his bright eyes were looking at her with concern. But there was something...shiny, glittery behind him. Something glowing with warm light. Her eyes fell closed again, too weak to stay open.

It seemed like only a few moments later that her eyes opened once again. Milar wasn’t above her now, instead he was sitting at a windowsill, watching something outside. His clothes were in tatters and there were dark smudges beneath slightly red eyes.

“…Milar?” Her voice sounded like a croak.

He turned to her. “Welcome back to the living, Lady.” He gave her a bleak version of his usual bright smile. “You’ve been out for nearly four days.”

“Four days?!”

“Mmhmm.” He carefully helped her sit up. While she wasn’t badly injured, a few scratches and her throat was raw and itchy, her limbs were not working with her.

“Where are we?”

“Beneath the ocean. The maelstrom sucked us down and the sea elves saved us.”

“…Did you swallow too much seawater?” She asked, struggling to get to her feet. Her limbs felt like lead. “Sea elves are legends, nothing more.”

“Didn’t we tell you that all the stories are true?”

“You run with odd company these days, Milarianast.” The voice was feminine and had a musical lilt to it. Iris turned her head as quickly as she could to look at the woman. She had pale skin that was lightly tinged with blue. Her wide, silver eyes had a guarded expression. Full lips were drawn into an amused smile and platinum blonde hair was hooked behind ears tapered to an elegant point. The woman wore nothing more than a dress the color of a midnight sky that flowed down her slender figure like water. Stitched into the dress were lilies.

“Milarianast?” Iris looked over at him, eyebrows raised.

“It’s my name. Milar is a nickname. Lady Iris this is Lady Sestina. She’s one of the ones that rescued us.”

“Thank you, I guess. If we’re under the ocean, how are we breathing?”

“This is an air pocket deep beneath the waves. Sea glass is all that is saving you from any water rushing in here right now. For safety measures, since humans are known to be rather moronic and find their way outside, examine your left wrist.”

Iris complied and found a glyph scratched into her skin. “You guys cut that into me?”

“It was either that or let you drown. We thought you’d prefer the former.”

“Where’s Lien? He did make it, right?” Iris turned to Sestina. “You did get to save everyone…right?”
“Lien’s in the library. He’s trying to see if the elves have any information that could save our sister that the humans don’t have.”

“You never answered my second question? What about Anir and the others?”

“Anir’s still unconscious. Everyone else…”

Iris came to join Milar at the window and finally saw what he’d been looking at the entire time. A funeral, with shrouds that covered corpses floating in the water. The shrouds drifted eerily, like cobwebs, and Iris found herself shivering.

“Why have the funerals now? It’s been four days right?”

“It is a custom of my people to keep dead inside for three days before burying them. It gives the soul time to move on and it gives those left behind to grieve.” Sestina explained, coming to stand just behind Milar.

Iris studied Milar’s face. Drawn, paler than it had last been and the redness in his eyes, while a little faded, was more obvious now that Iris stood close. He’d been crying sometime in the past hour.

“Where do you bury them?”

“We do not bury them. The ocean takes their bodies and the dead join the maelstrom if they are men and the undines if they are women.”
“What are Undines?”

“Water nymphs.” Milar replied. “They help guard this place. If an Undine touches you, then you will never be able to sleep. If you sleep after they curse you, your breath is taken from you and you die.”

“And why do the dead join the maelstrom?”

“Our people have a long memory and even we cannot remember when the maelstrom first appeared, but our legends say that once, our princess fell in love with one of her royal guards. Of course, her mother wouldn’t allow the marriage to take place.”

“Hold on a minute…why wouldn’t the mother allow it? What about her father?”

Sestina looked at her a little oddly. “Because she was of age. Men don’t get an official say once someone is of age. If the woman allows it, then it’s alright, but, by Protocol, males serve.”

“You’re not entirely correct, Lady.” Milar told her over his shoulder. “The first Law is not to serve. It’s to protect. The second Law is to defend. It’s the third Law that is to serve. And if serving means obstructing the first two, you toss the serving part out the door.”

“Don’t be quoting Protocol to me, Milaranast.”

He grinned and it wasn’t as bleak as his earlier smile. It had some of its old charm in it. “Wenning told me to teach her Protocol. I’m giving her the technicalities that might save me a few lectures and quite possibly a beating.”

“That’s the males’ point of view.”

“And when most learn it, they only learn their half. But if we could all learn both, it would save many arguments and many hurts.”

Iris could hear the experience behind the words and wondered who he’d seen hurt because someone didn’t understand. “What happened to the princess?”

“They continued to love each other, despite not being able to be married. But among elves, that is blasphemy. Your parents must approve of the marriage and her mother had found and approved her to marry another man. When the princess refused, her mother had the guard killed. But during the three days of grieving, the princess had prayed to the Spirits to always have him there, to always have him protecting her. The Spirits granted her wish and he became the maelstrom that guards all Sea Elves.”

“That’s a sad story.” Iris said quietly, eyes still fixated on the scene outside.

“It can be. I suppose it depends on your point of view.” Milar stood up. “I’m going to find Lien.”

Sestina didn’t twitch as Milar swept past her, despite his tense air. Iris waited until he was out of earshot before asking, “Does he not like it here?”

“The subject of death makes him uncomfortable. As it does me, but it is worse for him, I believe, because he knew those men. Despite how he and Lien may seem, they’re both very empathetic young men.”

“You’re older than them?”

“By several centuries.” A smile cracked Sestina’s features as the startled expression appeared on Iris’ face.

“I knew that elves lived long, but…”

“We live far longer than most think we do. It’s understandable. We do not often communicate with humans. Often, my people find that they abandoned their faith in the Spirits and that is the reason the world is the way it is.”

“You talk a lot like Milar and his brother do about humans. Like you’re not quite a part of your own people.”

“I’m an ambassador. I can’t show too much attachment to any one particular race or my job is null and void.”

“I hadn’t even heard of Sea Elves before today. Or a few days ago.”

“Only the ambassador and the royal family ever really go to the surface. If any of the commoners go, it’s generally in the shape of a dolphin or something. You wouldn’t recognize us if you saw us.”

“…How do you know Lien and Milar?”

Sestina blinked. “I know Lien through family association. Milar through Lien. I can’t tell you more.”
“Because of Protocol?”

“I see they’re already instructing you in it. And it is partially because of Protocol. But it is also because that I’m not sure if Lien wants me to tell you or not.”

“He wouldn’t. They don’t know me that well. I’m only here because Wenning told them to bring me.”

“He might. If there’s one thing I have learned in the centuries I have known them, it is that they will constantly surprise you.””

Iris froze. “Did you say you’ve known them for centuries?”

“Yes, of course.” Frown lines creased Sestina’s forehead. “Lien is 2,700 years old and Milaranast three centuries younger. Their sisters were 2,300.”

Iris stared at the door that Milar had gone through before breaking into a run. It had to be a mistake. No human, not even with the magical arts, could live that long. No one.