Chapter Twenty One
Belagon’s face twisted as he stepped into the cargo hold and saw the mass of Nephkyrie children
assembled there. The noise of talk and games died down as one by one, the prisioners spotted their elder and each slowly came to his feet, or turned around, their eyes wide.
“Second Speaker?” one whispered, taking a step forward. “You are dead, Second Speaker . . . the Speaker told us.”
“Who are you, child?” Belagon softly asked.
“Talondra Dal, Second Speaker. I . . . I remember you—but you haven’t aged.”
Belagon swayed, and a tear rolled down his cheek. “Talondra. I remember you, child. You were barely post adolescence, and your father was assigned as Shipmaster Prime.”
The prisoner nodded. “He was killed in the attack that destroyed the rest of the Fleet . . . but you are here
“There was no attack on the Fleet, Talondra. The rest of the Arks are intact. And Typhias . . . Typhias has much for which to answer.”
“But . . . but,” Talondra stammered, and he too began to cry. “If there wasn’t
an attack, then why is Father dead?”
Belagon’s only answer was to step forward and hold the weeping adult-sized child tightly in his arms.