POV: Ayla

She arrives without announcement, the same way she did the first time. One moment the garden path is empty. The next she is simply there, silver-white hair catching the late light, plain clothes unremarkable, presence unmistakable. The air around her feels older than the rest of the compound, as if she carries a different century with her when she walks.

I am sitting on the stone steps with a cup of tea gone cold in my hands when I see her. The bond tells me the others feel the shift almost as quickly as I do. By the time the Mage reaches the edge of the grass, Caius,...