Chapter 3
FarisThe fever.
He was too old for this. That a male his age would enter the fever and molt like a juvenile was ludicrous. His last molting had been eight years ago, and even then, he had been too old.
Now he was positively ancient in terms of Nakkoni biology. His quills were turning white.
They worked their way back through the train toward their tethered hovercycles. Perrigaul double-checked bindings and locked doors. When the train arrived at its destination, Rand and his guards would be discovered in an embarrassing condition. Normally such pettiness warmed Faris’ hearts, but he had larger concerns.
What was he going to do with the female? With Alice?
Al-iss.
What a charming name. Two syllables with a proper Nakkoni sibilant sound at the end.
Faris scrubbed his hand o
