IN THE MAKER’S HANDS
ELLIA ARRIVED AT LOFF’TA’S house. She stopped on the porch and turned back to face the wooded surroundings. Chaotic echoes taunted the eerie stillness. She panted, collecting herself, deciding if she should call the kal’dakas or find the swords first. If the lokithors came while she was in the house, she’d never get the chance. Loff’ta and the boys couldn’t survive without a distraction from the kal’dakas, certainly not without swords. Were they even still alive? Doubt clogged every path in her mind, but the way time was deteriorating drove her to act on pure instinct.
She drew a wooden xun from her tunic and pressed its reed to her lips, blowing into the instrument and loosing a somber half note.
The sound cut through the dark breeze with unnatural precision.
Then
