An instant (I made it just under two heartbeats) after Rokhin had shut the door, Tamerra rounded on me and resumed her earlier rant in Farstai. How irresponsible I was sending birds on in this weather, how cold and callously calculating I was in the pursuit of my duties as Messagemaster, and many other accusations.

I sat back in my chair and replied in Martese, as had become my custom after one of her rants.

“Mera, you should be less uptight about these things. Tallis is an experienced flyer, certainly not suicidal. He’ll come back; whether or not Kourser will be with him when he does is another question entirely.”

She groaned and punched me, very hard, in the upper arm while somehow keeping her glass absolutely still in the other hand. I laughed and rubbed my arm (it had actually been quite painful), raising the glass in a wordless toast.