over in hushed tones, clan members intoning “Rogalinon,” analyzing and relishing their new home’s name.

    Lost all these moments in thought, it was within that tree and that chamber the old magician now shuffled, tea flagon in hand, from the cooking area to the fireplace. Sitting down in his chair, he positioned his long feet to warm them, relaxed with his tea, and listened to the fire crackling.

    A familiar sound, a kirin’s great toe tapping on a hollow portion at the base of his door, interrupted his thoughts. Resonating through the chamber, the sound was as recognizable to him as a door knocker is to a human.

    He wondered whether this visitor would have any word about the missing Hut and the two ilon. The burden of fatigu...

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