The stairs opened up to an endless sky. Her breath became little whist mists that danced in front of her face before dissipating. The temperature had further plummeted and frost covered the bumpy stone surface. Her high boots gave her secure grip as she took her place in the middle, a frown on her little face, large emerald eyes scanning the horizon.

The days were getting shorter and the colours in the sky getting more dramatic with each sunset, with deep cerulean blending into liquid gold, melting to violent orange and staining the broken clouds a rich coral.

She felt something different the moment she stepped foot onto the tower’s apex. The air was still and calm, but she thought she could feel an echo or the last hint of a voice, almost as though someone had given a great shout seconds before she came within earshot.

She spun the staff in her right hand, turning her head slowly to pinpoint the location. It was difficult; she felt as though she was just on the tips of touching something, shortly before it slipped out of her reach. The bottom of her staff hit the ground with a soft thud and she closed her eyes, aligning her energy with the Wind, as she had done daily.

Tia easily tuned out the songs about the nature and wildlife, focusing instead on the tone of the voice she thought she had heard. No; it was just out of reach. Perhaps if she had arrived a few seconds earlier, she might have just caught it. The last of the newcomer’s voice faded into the Wind, swallowed by its sweet melody.

Mommu? she Sang. Mommu, is that you?

She waited with bated breath, her heart racing. She kept her focus tethered with the ebbing and flowing of the Wind, ears tuned acutely to any delicate changes in its sound.

There was no response. She could feel the initial excitement slipping away, replaced by disappointment. Nevertheless, she tried again, Singing another tune into the air, calling for her beloved comrade.

Mommu, if you can hear this, please answer me.

The Wind swirled around her, causing her skin to sting from its coldness. Her shoulders began to drop.

Tia!

The familiar voice made her jump and her heart soar. A squeal escaped from her mouth but she didn’t let her focus be compromised.

Mommu! You are alive!

Tia! The joy almost pulsated in the boy’s voice, coloured gorgeously by the Wind. She shivered with delight, a wide grin stretching from ear to ear. Oh! At last!

I am so glad! Oh, Mommu! She could barely contain herself. Where are you? What has happened to you?

I cannot say too much here. I fear somehow Mawlin has gotten hold of a spy to the Wind; they can understand our messages.

Tia felt her blood run cold. That was why they had been able to track her every movement, all from her messages to Mommu in the Wind.

Who is it? she demanded, anger flaring inside. How can they have been able to–  

Be careful of what you say, Tia. There was an unmistakeable hint of warning in her friend’s voice. I cannot stay for long. Our location is not yet… stable.

‘Our’?

You remember our friend we left in Capital a year ago?

Enlil!

You are with him? Tia thought her heart would burst with joy.

Yes. We are both safe and well, but we have to keep going.

Will I see you again, Mommu?

Of course. Perhaps not for many days, but we will speak again. Grace be with you, Tia. Stay safe.

Grace be with you. And to our… friend, too.

The last echo of his voice disappeared into the beautifully inhuman sounds of the Wind, lapped up by the undulating waves of harmony. The colours washed over her as she withdrew her energy, her mind drunk with the gorgeous sounds.

Mommu is alive! Thrilled, she barely avoided hurtling down the narrow steps as she raced down to the ground level of the Old Palace again. Enlil is with him! Oh, Graces!

Her feet felt light as feathers as she skipped her way along the smooth stone ground. As she turned around a corner, she shot out her right hand and, gripping the smooth stone pillar, spun herself round the corner and let go; the momentum allowed her to spin on her toes, her hair lifting up in the air and the hem of her long tunic flapping. With a little giggle, she skipped ahead again, so happy she thought she might bubble over.

The air was cold and crisp; the temperature had dropped by several degrees again. Her boots scrunched on the salt scattered across the ground. A delicate layer of frost lay on the plants and trees. The mist from her breath danced in the air before dissipating and her ears tingled with the chill. She shivered, not from the weather, but from excitement.

“Sarpanit!” she shouted, grabbing the Gwentian girl as soon as she came within reach, and spun in a circle with her, both hands gripping hers.

“Whoa–!” Her basket of herbs fell to the floor with a thump along with Tia’s staff and a few of the harvested leaves tumbled onto the ground. “What’s going on? Are you alright?”

“I am more than alright! I am wonderful!” Tia said, out of breath and her cheeks flushed a bright pink. “It is Mommu! My dear friend Mommu! He is alive!”

“The other Windcaster?”

“Yes! He survived the slaughter in Capital! He and Enlil are both alive and well – I cannot express how overjoyed I am!”

“I guess you’re not the last Windcaster after all,” the princess said with a smile as Tia let go of her at last. “Do you know where they are?”

“I am afraid somehow, the Mawlinese are able to intercept messages sent in the Wind.” Tia drooped, but perked up again quickly. “But he is alive! I may see him again soon!”

“But how can they intercept your messages? Normal people can’t interact with the Wind, I thought that can’t change.”

Tia shrugged. “Mommu and I have our code; we have been together for so long now that it matters not that we cannot speak straightforwardly.”

“Tiamat! That’s beside the point!”

The urgency in Sarpanit’s tone surprised her. The usual pleasant gleam in the deep blue eyes was replaced by alarm. The fallen herbs lay forgotten on the ground.

“Don’t you understand? This means that Mawlin has a Windcaster aiding them! One of you!”

Tia’s jaw dropped.

“That is impossible!” She shook her head. “Nobody would do that. It is so dishonourable that we would all rather die than to surrender to the enemy, much less aid them!”

“Is it, though?” Tia stopped. Sarpanit had never looked so serious before. “Is it so dishonourable to save oneself? Would you rather die too? Can you guarantee that all your fellow Windcasters would rather die?”

“I… I do not…” This feeling reminded Tia of when she was first told of the Casters’ roles in the last Great War. She felt torn between two valid justifications. She let out a frustrated sound, hands reaching up and tugging at her chestnut-coloured hair. Why can things not just be easy? She met the princess’s eyes again. “Then what are we to do, Sarpanit?”

“There is nothing for you to do right now. I shall inform Papa and his advisors of this. Did Mommu mention what his plans are? Or the Mawlinese’s?”

“No… he said he had not much time to Sing. But they are safe; perhaps they will contact me again in the future.” Tia remained hopeful.

“Perhaps.” The older girl sounded preoccupied. “Go back to scribing; I shall let Papa know right now.”

She collected her scattered herbs and left without her usual overly-close gestures. Her shoulders were tense beneath her thick, faded, pink tunic; her stumpy legs made rapid, short strides and her long thick boots thudded softly on the floor. Tia picked up her staff from the ground, not sure what to make of the revelation. Had she said something wrong? She had envisaged her reaction to be so different.

How could one of us have betrayed us all? she wondered, making her slow way back to the library. But that would explain so much; every message I had sent to Mommu spoke of where I was, and each time the army was able to find me. She blinked. Perhaps that is why Mommu had not replied for so long. It was not that he was caught; it was because he knew the message would be intercepted.

She paused, her hand hovering over the large oak doors that opened into the tall-ceilinged, domed room of books. She just couldn’t see how the traitor Caster could have justified the betrayal. This act would likely compromise several hundreds, thousands, hundreds of thousands of lives. The power of the Wind when in the wrong hands could have devastating consequences.

And she wouldn’t put it past Mawlin to utilise that to their full advantage when Gwent declared war.