And now…

I’d been sold to a Kylorr male. My only fears now were when was the next time he’d feed from me…and if I would embarrass myself by succumbing to the tantalizing pleasure that his bite wrung.

I didn’t want it.

I would rather be afraid.

I would rather his bite hurt and pinch and ache.

Only it didn’t. It didn’t hurt me. It was the opposite.

Azur would be returning tonight. He’d been gone two days, and I’d spent yesterday roaming the endless halls of the keep, mapping out the corridors in my head, memorizing them so I could navigate them with Ludayn. I’d poked my head in doors that I probably shouldn’t have, even the keeper’s quarters, much to the bemusement of the Kylorr who’d been dozing there.

Today, taking further advantage of Azur’s absence, I would venture to the west wing. I’d already explored the east, north, and south wings of the keep, admiring the almost gothic architecture with its bold yet delicate lines. I’d run my hand over carvings in the walls, images depicting scenes of battle or of alien, though majestic, landscapes on Krynn. I’d uncovered a circular, wide set of stairs in the south wing that led up to an observation tower, affording an even grander view of Laras than I’d thought possible. Nearby I’d found a library, filled to the brim with books and ancient tomes, written in both the universal tongue and the Kylorr’s language. I’d spent a good portion of the evening thumbing through brittle pages and running my finger down leathery spines, searching for anything having to do with Krynn’s history but finding nothing relevant to my own interests.

The keep of House Kaalium was beautiful.

More elegant and grand than I’d ever expected, with a deep-rooted history living in its walls. At times during my exploration, I swore I’d felt a touch or a cool prickle at my back or across my arm. Only when I’d turned, no one had been there. There had been a hum of awareness in the air, though I hadn’t been threatened by it. Only cautious.

Old souls were still living here, I’d decided. And they were as curious about me as I was about this place. I wondered how long the family had lived in Laras. A long time, I guessed, considering the age of the keep alone.

Footsteps sounded behind me, coming down the stone steps toward the private corner of the courtyard I’d discovered. A female was humming, though it wasn’t Ludayn. Near the transport tunnel doors—which had been locked, I’d discovered—I was shielded from sight of the stairs considering the tumbling blooms and vines that needed desperate care.

When I craned my neck around the corner, I stilled.

It was Kalia.

The Kylorr female hadn’t seen me yet. She was twirling an indigo flower in her hands, inspecting it as she pinched the stem. Like the first time I’d seen her, she was dressed in tight-fitting pants and a beautiful forest-green top that was encrusted in shimmering gems and inlaid with metals. They made an intricate swirling pattern down her breasts and over her abdomen, the thick hem flaring out slightly over her hips.

The females I’d seen in the keep didn’t wear dresses, and I realized that it was probably difficult to fly in one. It was frowned upon for human females to dress in such a way—in pants and tunics—especially from the noble houses. I’d always been annoyed when my dresses got tangled around my ankles as I’d stepped over boulders in the mines. How much easier it would’ve been had I been free to dress like Kalia.

“Hello,” I greeted softly, stepping out from my hiding place. I had on my gray dress this morning. Since I’d decided to continue exploring the keep, it was also my most comfortable, the material soft from wear, though there was a large hole Piper had sewed closed for me with white silk thread, right at the side of my waist.

If Kalia was another of Azur’s wives, I could see why he’d chosen her. She was beautiful. Standing close to her, I was highly aware that the sea wind had swept tendrils of hair out from my tight bun and that my dress was terribly, terribly drab in comparison to the sparkling metals sewn to her tunic.

Kalia froze. She’d been approaching the terrace banister—to go flying? I wondered—but she stilled next to the small bubbling fountain in the very center.

For a moment, she looked flabbergasted, blinking at me in such a way that made me wonder if she’d forgotten who I was.

Then her lips pressed. The bloom in her hands dropped and I watched it fall.

Clearing my throat, I took a step toward her, my heart beginning to thump in my chest. “What are these flowers called? They’re beautiful. I’ve never quite seen—”

Kalia turned her back on me. Though she could fly, she took to the stairs, one angry step at a time.

“Wait!” I called out behind her. “I just…”

I trailed off with a sigh, watching her quick retreat.

Biting my lip, I turned back to the Silver Sea.

Deal with it, I told myself, even when I felt my throat tighten. It was probably ill-advised regardless to try to make friends with Kalia, since she obviously detested the mere sight of me. But even on the Collis, when I’d felt alone, I’d truly never been alone. I’d had my sisters. I’d had Fran.

On Krynn I was alone. Truly alone. With no way to even contact my family. To see how they were.

“They’re called starwood flowers,” came Kalia’s voice.

I turned with a hitched breath, but she was already gone, the tops of her wings disappearing as she retreated. But she’d answered me. I hadn’t made her cry like last time by just speaking to her. I considered that progress.

Glancing at the flowers spilling next to me, I touched one of the blooms. With velvety soft petals, the stamen was dark, almost pitch black. The indigo color of the bloom had intermittent white dots peppered along its surface, giving the appearance of a starry night sky.

Beautiful, I thought, making a mental note to look up books on Krynn’s plant life in the library, if I could find any.

Peering around the filled courtyard and remembering the private terrace where I’d taken my morning meal with Azur yesterday—though he’d done more of the eating than I had, I remembered with a flush—I thought that the flowers could use a little care. The ones that were trailing on the ground had begun to rot. The vines from which they bloomed were tangled and wild. Some curled around the stones but others jutted upward, swaying in the wind.

It’s a project, I thought quietly. It would give me something to do. And to distract from the reality of my situation, I would need a lot to fill my time.

I found another project to work on later that day as I explored the west wing of the keep.

I came across an open, arched door, slightly ajar. The sounds of frustration coming from within were what made me push it open and peer curiously inside.

Within, I discovered a Kylorr male, hands running through golden-yellow hair, which got tangled around his twisting ivory-colored horns. Sitting slumped over a metal desk, scribbling away on parchment, he was wearing a deep frown and mumbling under his breath. Piles and stacks of paper were all around him, and I watched as he paused in his scribbling to pluck a sheet from the stack, scanning its contents with a shrewd eye.

That was when he saw me lingering in the doorway, and he straightened, blinking.

“Kylaira,” the male greeted with a slight bow of his head, standing up from the desk.

“I don’t mean to intrude,” I told him, eyeing the room.

And it was a pretty room at that. High, vaulted ceilings and tall, arched windows, with latticed panes that made a delightful diamond pattern. A desk was situated in front of the windows, which I imagined would let in warm, glorious sunlight in the afternoons. Heavy shelves of stacked papers were stuffed up against all the available space. It was chaotic and disorganized, but it smelled like the library my mother had kept in the Collis. The scent of old parchment and earthy ink would always make me think of her.