“Powers?” Kama whispered through unmoving lips. “Were they gone? Back from
where?” and Molin answered, just as low, “Never mind. I’ll tell you later,
beloved.”
Then he said, in his most ringing priestly voice, “Jihan, my lady, what brings
you to the Stormgod’s sanctuary? Are the children well? Is something amiss with
Niko?”
“Priest,” Jihan stamped her foot, “isn’t it obvious? Randal and I are in love
and we wish to be married by the tenets of your… faith… god, whatever. Now!”
Randal hiccoughed in surprise and his eyes widened. Kama would have been more
concerned with the exhausted little wizard if she wasn’t still reeling from
shock: Beloved, Molin had called her.
Randal raised a feeble hand to his brow and Kama wondered whether the casualty
was capable of standing under his own power, let alone making any decision about
marriage.
So she said, “Randal? Seh, Witchy-Ears, are you awake? My father isn’t going to
like you marrying his girl ranger, not considering the use he tends to make of
her. I’d-“
Jihan’s free hand outstretched, pointing, and Kama’s flesh began to chill.
Molin stepped in front of Kama. “Jihan, Kama meant no slight. She’s in dire
straits herself. With our help. Froth Daughter, you shall be able to wed your
chosen mage before…” He craned his neck to peer out the window, where no sun
could be seen, just the demonic pillar of fire and the lightning of
Stormbringer. “… before sundown, if that’s your desire, and I will wed mine.
If you aid me, my gratitude and that of my tutelary god will be inscribed in the