“You may be wondering why we have asked you here,” he said.
Bariq al-Dawud nodded, his expression one of cautious relief that the elders had broached the subject, and therefore he didn’t have to ask the question which must have been plaguing him. “I am sure you will tell me why,” he responded.
“Yes, we will,” Idris said, his tone sharper than he would have liked. Doing his best to control his irritation, he went on, “We have discovered that you claimed a Chosen, and yet it seems you have been living alone these two years since the Dying. What happened?”
The tawny-haired djinn suddenly seemed very interested in the contents of his water glass. “I am not sure.”
Istar raised a delicately arched eyebrow. “What do you mean, you are not sure?”
“I am sorry if I was vague, elder.” Bariq drank
