The next morning, she woke slowly, a taste of ashes in her mouth. Her room was bright in late morning sunshine, the light cloth at the window waving slightly in a breeze. She blinked for a minute at the bright light of morning, wondering why she had a feeling of dread in her stomach, why her head ached and her mouth tasted like a fire pit. Memory came slowly, and she groaned and turned over to bury her face in her pillow. Tears came and she let them come, finally, sobbing at the shame of the night before.
She couldn’t ignore the calls that came to her. As soon as she felt the tugging of danger, the evil of poison, she needed to go to it, she needed to protect the land she had inherited as World Whisperer. Did it mean she would always be in trouble with the elders, that she would always be
