Free Bone War by Steven Harper

asked in a careful, measured voice, as if anything louder might frighten Ranadar away like a skittish rabbit.
    â€œI caught glimpses of a young boy—him—running throughan apple orchard. I saw him playing a pipe while he watched a herd of sheep under a sunny sky. I watched him bed a young man with black hair and gray eyes.”
    Talfi flushed a little but couldn’t stop the questions. Every memory was precious, even if it was secondhand. “Who was the young man?”
    Ranadar shook his head. “I know nothing about him, only that he . . . you . . . wanted him very much and that it was a long, long time ago. Do you remember him?”
    â€œNo.” Talfi shook his head and slumped back. “I don’t remember any of those things. Did my family have an apple orchard, then? Or sheep? Or did those things happen later, after the Sundering?”
    â€œWe also need to know the source of his strength,” Kalessa said. “He tossed me as easily as a lioness tosses a kitten.”
    â€œAnd if he’s me,” Talfi said, “why didn’t he bleed? Or seem to feel any pain when Kalessa stabbed him? I bleed. I feel pain.”
    â€œUntil you die,
Talashka
, and come back to life,” Ranadar pointed out. “Perhaps that has something to do with it.”
    â€œDiscussion gets us nowhere,” Kalessa decided. “We need to talk to that man. If we can find him. Can you see into his mind, Ranadar?”
    â€œElven glamour does not work quite that way,” Ranadar replied. “Usually, we put our thoughts into
other
people and make them see or think what we wish them to. I have never been very good at it. You have seen me create simple disguises, and I can make people not see me—simple tricks like that. When I am close to someone—emotionally close, like my
Talashka
—the bond is more powerful. I recognize his mind, and I can feel what he feels when we touch. I assume that is why I caught glimpses of the candle wax man’s mind.” Ranadar shuddered. “It was very strange. There were two Talfis in my head.”
    â€œSo what do we do now?” Talfi set the tray aside andstood up, testing his leg. It took his weight, though he didn’t look forward to running on it right away.
    â€œWe need to find the candle wax man and learn who he is,” Ranadar said, also rising. “We should probably start by searching the market. Perhaps someone else there has seen him.”
    â€œNo.” Kalessa got to her feet and stretched. “It is nearly sunset, and I have to go see Slynd. It has been two days now, and if he does not see me, he will come looking for me. That would prove a disaster. And you must learn to ride, as you swore.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œDisaster,” Kalessa repeated with the ominous note only an orc could create. “Swore.”
    â€œWe will watch for the candle wax man on the way,” Ranadar sighed.
    It was a long walk to the outer edge of the city, so they hired a carriage. As the wheels bumped over cobblestones or squished through mud, Talfi kept a sharp eye out for anyone resembling . . . well, himself, and wondered what he would do if such a person appeared. Grab him? Tackle him? Talk to him?
    â€œWe need to tell Aisa and Danr about this,” Kalessa mused aloud as the people and buildings moved past them. “I wonder where in Vik’s realm they are.”
    â€œProbably enjoying themselves,” Ranadar said, “as we were trying to do before this came upon us.”
    They reached the edge of the city. In olden times, Balsia had been properly walled in, but the Sundering had brought down large sections of the original walls, and the city had since sprawled well outside the barriers in any case, so the edge of town was a nebulous sort of place where actual buildings faded into farmlands and estates of wealthy Balsians who couldn’t afford to live within the