Second Kiss by Robert Priest

green, hooded cloak entered the underdome. Xemion could barely make out the face within the shadow of the hood as he stood just outside the flickering ring of candlelight. The woman with him leaned in toward Musea and cupped her hands over her mouth in disbelief. She approached the old Thrall woman and bent over her so that her mass of dark ringlets hung over the body like coils of shiny black smoke. Veneetha Azucena slowly took her hands away from her mouth and Xemion could see her lower lip trembling. As she looked up, the light from the flames fully illuminated her face and he could clearly make out the red threads woven into her hair. As she put her trembling hand on Musea’s cold shoulder, a cry escaped her. This, in turn, set the dog off baying grievously again, and the sound of the two of them in the chamber was almost deafening.
    After a time, Veneetha Azucena closed her eyes, took a long breath, and exhaled evenly as though to release the shock. Still weeping, she knelt down and put her hand on Bargest’s back and said, soothingly, “Poor, poor thing.” For a while she knelt between the dog and Musea’s body and tears streamed down from her dark eyes. Her face remained still and composed except for occasional trembling at the corner of her mouth. Slowly her stillness seemed to spread to Yarra and Sarabin until they, too, grew quiet. Then she joined hands with the two of them, forming a circle, and they kept one another’s gaze for so long that Xemion almost began to feel like a spy.
    â€œSo, it is done,” Veneetha Azucena said at last, with a grave nod.
    â€œWe tried our hardest,” Yarra whispered.
    â€œThere is so much we will never recover now,” Sarabin added woefully, shaking his head.
    â€œAnd … the book I mentioned to you?” Veneetha asked.
    â€œI’m afraid not,” Yarra squeaked, shrugging helplessly.
    Sarabin emitted a sharp coughing sound, looked at her sharply, and cocked his head in the direction of Xemion, who still stood silently at the perimeter of the candlelight.
    Veneetha Azucena squinted into the darkness and noticed Xemion for the first time. “Ah, there you are,” she said in her sweetest voice.
    â€œI’m so sorry,” Xemion managed to say.
    She nodded.
    â€œIt is a great loss,” Xemion added.
    She nodded again and looked at him piercingly. “But every loss is tainted with some gain, I suppose.” She flashed a wry smile at him.
    Xemion looked puzzled.
    â€œI mean, you cannot be entirely aggrieved with this.”
    Xemion almost blushed. It was true. With Musea gone there was no reason to keep him here in Ulde. He swallowed and nodded back at her. She saw the guilty look on his face.
    â€œNo need to feel ashamed,” she advised in a soothing voice. “There are cross-spells and contrary currents in everything here, being so close to the Great Kone. There’s no action that is not blighted by paradox. You have given good service. You can be proud of that.”
    Xemion blushed again, still feeling guilty.
    â€œWe will need to give Musea over to her people for a full Thrall burial ceremony, but you needn’t feel you have to stay in Ulde for that. We have finally had word from Lighthammer. The mountain passes are now traversable and there is a supply caravan going to the camp in the morning from the crossroads at Brookside.”
    Xemion couldn’t help it. He smiled.
    â€œYes. Tell them that Veneetha Azucena herself has sent you and they will take you. And take our gratitude with you.”
    Sarabin and Yarra tried to add their own remarks to this but a new series of howling laments from Bargest thwarted their attempts. Veneetha knelt down again and put her hand on the back of the dog’s neck, stroking it soothingly. “Poor thing. Poor thing.”
    It wasn’t until he had almost reached his lodgings that Xemion realized why the title of the lost book kept tugging at his