“You uncle used her talent against her,” Mirlin issued.
“What is her talent?” Iniri questioned.
Enris lifted his head to smile at his sister. “Thank you for putting her in the present. Her talent is much like what Ilfinay is credited with. Soul birth and death, and she is a master at it. We employed her gift on the mountain to restore the souls gathered by the orb.”
“Fine, Enris, I have a sister somewhere and we can talk about her later, but what happens now? Why did you vanish?”
Glancing at Mirlin, he responded with, “She is lonely. She has also been traumatised by what the Glonu did to her. She was selfish enough to take us with her … for companionship.” He cleared his throat. “She is no longer whole, not after the time passed in captivity, but Leffandir pulled us out. The orb may have taken a stance to mitigate her state of mind – it is after all a Makar creation and harks to the Makar needing it most – but Iliri’s loneliness was at the root. What happens now?” He gazed at his sister. “For the rest of my days I will wonder if she is all right abandoned now to time and space … and fate. I promised to return her to Makaran.”
Mirlin sucked at his teeth. “My prince, I think you overlook something.”
Enris glared at him.
“Ilfinay’s gift. Your gift. Her gift. It binds you. She is not alone, Lord Makar. Iliri is with the one who made all of us.”
Enris snorted. “Ilfinay is not a god.”
“He isn’t, but he lives. Now he is no longer alone either.”