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Trying and failing to mimic my serious expression, she turns to Rann, who drinks her in like water, unable to completely bury the longing on his face. “No speaking then. This will be a god-like task for you. Oh! What’s the penalty if he loses?”

“A favor to the winner…” It’s not; there’s no real penalty, just merciless teasing. I think maybe Rannoch knows I’m lying; he levels a dark glance at me, but still doesn’t speak.

Beautifully, unexpectedly, a trill of laughter pours from her, a birdsong, a promise of summer, and I drink it in, smiling from her gift of joy.

“Oh!” she gasps, almost giggling, little chirps of hiccuping sound. “ Oh, well. That seems fair! We should respect the customs of your land, Kaden. If he speaks, he’ll owe you a favor.”

Rannoch huffs, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms dramatically with a humor I truly didn’t know the stoic man possessed, and even Tahrik joins in, though he’s interacted with us minimally so far.

“The power you hold now, Kaden. Use it well. You could make him carry your pack for a week.”

“Or do your laundry!”

“Or rub your feet!”

They go back and forth like children, each suggestion more and more outlandish, until, “Or sing to you!”

“It won’t be a favor to hear me sing,” Rannoch warns in a serious tone.

“You broke the mirror! And now I demand a favor. Sing me a song, Councilor!”

Groaning, Rannoch buries his face in his hands, then sits up straight and stares at me, expression hard. “You asked for it.”

Briefly, beside me, I hear Wren whisper to Tahrik, “Have you ever heard him sing?” but his answer is lost in the most ear-shattering noise I have ever heard in my life, somehow toneless and completely dissonant at the same time.

Round the bend, round the bend

First and middle, then the end

Goose and duck, goose and duck

Pick one or you’re out of luck

Fire’s red, fire’s blue

Run the circle, I chooooooose YOU!

“You can’t be serious.” Tahrik sounds honestly stunned, then covers his mouth as though he could force the words back in, and Wren is almost cackling with laughter, wrapping her arms around her ribs.

“Oh, oh, oh…it hurts! Oh! Rann! I’m sorry…I shouldn’t…but oh!” Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears of amusement, cheeks scrunched tight.

“What….ah….what was that?” I ask him carefully, trying not to add to his clear embarrassment, his normally pale face flushed red .

“I told you it wouldn’t be a favor,” he mutters shrugging, and I can’t help but feel for him.

“I meant the song. The singing was…um…fine. Good man. Paid the favor right away. Sign of character.” I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore, Wren’s laughter is so distracting.

“It’s a game from our home,” Tahrik answers for him, smiling.

“The children play it. They sit in a circle and one walks around, taps their heads, then picks one to chase. All the rings do it. It gets surprisingly competitive. The winner keeps the circle crown until the next game — quite an honor in the schoolyard. Bragging rights for days, or at least until the next time they play.” He and Rannoch exchange amused, knowing looks.

Turning to Wren, I raise a teasing eyebrow. “I can just see you, flying around the circle, tackling your prey. Was it your favorite?”

I don’t know what I’ve said wrong, but the laughter drains from her like water from a cup, all the colors of the world fading to black and white. Her attempt to keep smiling when she answers cracks something in my heart.

“No. I didn’t really play games, as such.” She’s still smiling, but it trembles, and she stares fixedly at the ground, shoulders curled in.

Rannoch and Tahrik have also fallen silent, then, as one, start moving busily, pointlessly, adjusting their packs, filling the empty space with meaningless words.

“Are we walking on?” Tahrik tightens the straps on his bedroll, shifting it in front of him.

“Not too long until night,” Rannoch answers, but glances my way to confirm.

“We can do another hour or two,” I reply uneasily, and both immediately rise.

“Come, Keeper,” Rannoch stands over her, hand outstretched, voice tellingly soft. “A little further, and I’ll sing to you to keep your steps light.”

Her wobbly smile smooths, and she raises her face to his. “Am I to be punished the whole way? At least tell me my transgressions so I can ask forgiveness and escape my fate. ”

He huffs, mock affronted, and Tahrik steps beside him, shoulder to shoulder, also holding out his hand. “ I’ll sing to you, Wren. Sun and Earth, and I’m sorry Rannoch, but no one deserves…I mean…Well.”

They grin at each other, the camaraderie surprising after the last few days, but I suppose a common goal weaves disparate cloth together, and Rannoch nods. “Alright, Miller. I suppose.”

Wren reaches up with both hands and lets the men pull her to her feet. “Will you sing any request, Rik?” she asks, and the way he looks at her lets anyone with eyes know that he would run his voice bloody to fill her days with music, but he answers teasingly.

“Any but Run the Circle. I don’t think I could compare with Rannoch’s performance, and wouldn’t like to try.”

His reply is enough to draw a small laugh from her, and they head toward the low hills together, his truly glorious voice filling the space around us.

Oh her eyes are like diamonds,

Her hair is spun gold…

The three walk away from me, and suddenly I’m on the outside.

Trying not to let it bother me, I grab my horse’s reins, clucking to it softly.

Time and tide shift relentlessly, I remind myself.

I may be steps behind today, but tomorrow I might be a league ahead.

Still, my pack feels unusually heavy as I trudge forward.

“Trader!” Rannoch has stopped, looking back over his shoulder at me. “Hurry your feet and join up, or I’ll serenade you.” He’s frowning, as though he’s chastising me for lagging behind, but I can hear the amusement lacing his words. Wren’s face turn up towards his with cautious affection.

“It’s not my fault you’ve left me with all the work, Councilor,” I call back in the same tone, and he grins briefly, a quick flash.

“A question for you — what’s that animal you’re leading?”

Tilting my head, I wonder if the man has taken ill or had a spell.

“My…horse?” I answer cautiously, only to hear him yell, “Horse! Mirror mirror!” triumphantly at the exact same time.

Wren and Tahrik’s laughter pull me forward and into the fold, and I welcome it, pu shing aside the thought of what will happen when we finally cross into my homeland. Time and tide, I think. Time and tide .

All things shift with time.