The word warm hit Rama harder than any threat Branajaya's soldiers had managed all night. He crossed the distance to the rocks before he'd consciously decided to move, kneeling beside Niken where Ki Branggah held her steady against the shaking that had taken hold of her thin shoulders. Her breath rose in pale puffs, though the night had been warm. Her eyes had gone distant and unfocused, fixed on some point neither in the compound below nor anywhere in the dark hillside around them.
"Niken," Rama said, gentling his voice as much as the pounding urgency in his chest allowed. "Can you hear me. Whatever's speaking through you, I need you to tell it something for me."
