For a moment that feels like eons, I wait.

Then, from the back of the herd, one little buck begins to pick his way forward. He's small even for a silver roe, and there's a dark gray dappling on his back that reminds me of my own freckles. His tiny antlers are coated in a blueish fuzz and come up to a spot only a little higher than my knees.

He stops a few handspans in front of me, staring as if sizing me up.

Then he stretches out his neck. My heart leaps, and he takes one tiny bite, and then another-until he's finished the entire thing. The link is forged, and in a heartbeat my world is transformed.

Reeling on the spot, I nearly fall over as the impact of the change hits me.

I have two minds. Two bodies. Two sets of very different senses. It's dizzying, electrifying. A little like the time I tried t'choa mushrooms with Kai, but so, so much more intense. I try to get up, but sway drunkenly instead. Aunt Mahara hurries forward to help me.

Supported between my aunts, I return to the Shaman Tree with my escorts—the little silver roe picking his way carefully along behind me. The sacred beasts take to Joining much more easily than humans do.

Once inside the warm, incense-clouded space, they help me to a seat while the shaman lectures me on proper care and acclimation.

"This creature is you, and yet he is his own. He is not a toy. Not a tool, but a partner. Yes?"

"Y-yes," I answer, struggling to speak without moving my Akhana's lips instead.

"You must form a veil between you, a barrier. Envision it, now. Close your eyes. No, your eyes. There. Now. As long as you cultivate that, you will have to deliberately reach through it to affect the actions of your Akhana directly or to access his senses. But even then, you mustn't force his actions unless you absolutely have to. Simply communicate to him by directing your thoughts through the veil, and he will respond."

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

By the time we finally leave Shaman's Tree, my head's buzzing with advice and instructions. Ula and Mahara assure me it's alright if I don't remember it all, that there are books for that. For now, I just focus on putting one of my own feet in front of the other as we begin the long, slow journey home.

When we get back to our family Ancient, the whole household is out—waiting on platforms, walkways and railings to welcome me back. When they see I've returned with an akhana, they roar with approval, reaching into baskets to pull out handfuls of petals and tossing them out over our heads as we go like colorful, sweet-smelling snowfall.

By the time I finally get back to my chambers, I'm absolutely exhausted and covered in flowers. Making sure I'm safely installed in my room with my new Akhana at my side, my aunts leave me to rest and adjust.

For a long time I lay awake, focusing on the veil, until eventually I drift off. I wake up some time later to a knock at the door. Outside my window it's gone dark, and a light rain taps rhythmically on the platform beyond.

Before I can even finish saying "Come in," it's swinging open, and in march my aunts and uncles. All five of them.

My stomach twists. I haven't seen all of them in one place since the last moon feast, and they've certainly never all been in my room at once before. Even Joined in Khejia, the Rhavani of a nation are too busy to be together much of the time. I've always felt sorry for them.

I stand, trying to stammer a question. Aunt Ula and Mahara are at the forefront, the shared look in their eyes making my stomach churn.

"Nikka-Va," Mahara says, reaching out to take my hands in both of hers as Ula steps forward. "Congratulations."

Aunt Ula opens her clenched fist, and something flashes light into my eyes as it dances on its chain beneath her palm.

I'm shaking my head, backing away—as if there's somewhere I can go. My Akhana inches forward, sniffing up at the betrothal shard as it twists in the air, winking menacingly at me.

"No. My studies, the dig-"

"Your cousin Enkiah is gone," Ula says, tone gone ominously formal. "You've been chosen to take her place among the Heirs. This is yours now."

"There's got to be someone better," I protest, putting up my hands to ward her off. Still she advances, necklace raised. "Please, no!"

But she's bearing down on me. The chain drags over my head, my hair, and settles with cold finality against my skin.

Fuck.