Robin took the final bite of the curried vegetable dish and frowned. The planner at the Host insisted he take two boxes, but Robin had to play tough and only took one. He was starving. The wind blew across the mid-March valley, and Robin, sitting atop a gentle hill, looked in the direction it was blowing to where Kraag was slowly moving.

  This was the first time Robin had seen Kraag this close in months, always making it a point to be where the people who knew him were not. He always thought it was the ignorance of youth that made it impossible for him to fathom Kraag’s size. His serpentine head and colossal legs were beyond anything a normal man could ever comprehend. Robin was pleasantly surprised to see Kraag was just as chillingly large as he remembered.

  The setting sun cast the mountainous tortoise in a fiery orange light. Robin stretched out wide and yawned, laying down in the open to rest for the night.

  But his sleep was interrupted by the violent trembling of the earth beneath him. Robin awoke with a start, looking up to see Kraag, lit by the full moon, much closer than he had been when Robin went to sleep. He was so close now, Robin could see the nomads, known as Kraag’s Host, milling about near the beast. They were a multicolor horde of representatives from all of the other tribes, skittering around at his feet and on the creature’s back, but they seemed startled that Kraag was moving as quickly as he was.

  “Robin!” The call was the voice of a woman’s, but it came on the wind. Or, in it, rather.

  The Windwalker swung around with a mix of surprise to see his run planner, with her short-chopped, orange hair and dirty cheeks, sprinting toward him, gusts speeding her along. Another figure was accompanying her, running just as quickly.

  “What are you doing here? I’m the Windwalker,” Robin teased as the planner and the man with her came to a stop. His joking ended, though, when he saw tension in her eyes.

  “I told you to stay with us tonight,” the planner said. “We’re a week out of the nearest town. You did not have to leave so early.”

  “Who is this?” Robin asked, nodding to the man. He was dressed in Wind Tribe clothing. But it was the traditional stuff. Generations away from what Robin and his family had come to be wearing. He was clearly a different part of Host, the most distilled version of red magic using nomadic cultures.

  “I have come from Kraag’s shell. I will not waste your time with introductions right now. Our time is short. As you can see, Kraag is excited.”

  “For what?”

  “For his new Speaker,” the man said with a bow of his head.

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Robin’s planner asked him, her eyes becoming misty. “You come to spend a day with us for the first time in a year and you don’t say a damn thing about this?”

  “I apologize if I was not clear,” the man said to her. “Robin did not know. We did not allow Kraag to tell him. But the Elder God has grown rather eager. It would appear he has much to say.”

  “What is happening?” Robin asked, becoming frantic. The trembling footsteps of the approaching god served as a throbbing and foreboding rhythm that underlined the obvious distress his sister was showing. But the other nomad’s calm was just as unsettling.

  “Kraag has chosen his voice,” the Spring Wind nomad repeated. “That is all I may say. When you are ready we will approach the Elder God.”

  Robin looked at the planner and the man from the shell and frowned. “Can I say no?”

  “Well, it is not me you must deny.”

  Robin turned to look at the approaching mountain, still shaking the world beneath him. He looked southward to see the dim lights of metropolitan Crossroads on the horizon. They could certainly feel the rumbles of the beast’s footfalls. This had to be the closest he had ever come to the massive city. “So I can tell him no?”

  “You are permitted to try, I suppose.”

  “Robin, don’t be stupid,” the planner pleaded. But Robin had no idea if she was advocating for or against the god’s calling.

  “I don’t think I have much of a choice just yet.”

  “That aside,” the nomad interjected. “This is something to be proud and happy about. Kraag has not had a speaker since the founding of the Talnorel Alliance. And your brother was personally chosen.”

  Robin had heard “Speaker for Kraag” used in the past. But never gave much thought to what it could mean. It was a position three generations separated from anything he knew as contemporary information. And to add to that, many of the modern shamans viewed the Host as overly processed, too rigid, and destructively traditional in their handling of red magic and life in general. What could the Speaker be but the singular personification of that?

  He was not sure why the planner looked so upset about all of this. She did always take issue with him “hiding details” from her. But this was news to him just the same. It seemed like an easy enough fix. He would just tell Kraag he was not interested. It would be as easy as that.

  “Whatever,” Robin sighed. “Let’s go see him. I’ll tell him the bad news.”

  “You’re not going to do it?” she asked.

  Robin grinned. “I make my living running. I’d die of boredom waiting for Kraag to get anywhere interesting.”

  She ran to her brother, hugging him tightly. Robin could not help but feel her reaction was a little hyper-emotional. And so he opened up his empathy for a second. The static charge in the air confirmed that she was acting out of fear.

  Fear that she would never see her runner again.

  Curious, Robin reached his empathetic aura in the other nomad’s direction and immediately regretted it. By all accounts, his fears were confirmed.

  “Are you ready, then?” the nomad asked.

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  The run to Kraag’s shadow was over in an instant. The nomad grabbed Robin, leaving the woman on the hill, and brought him into the midst of three others already standing before the massive turtle god. The rest of the Host traditionally stayed beneath, beside, and behind Kraag out of respect for his leadership. But this evening, these figures were standing in front of him.

  Standing so close to Kraag always made Robin’s stomach. The god was colossal, of course, but the cognitive dissonance created by watching this mountain moving was sickening. For the first time, Robin could see that the myths about Kraag’s composition were not myths. His shell did not just look like a mountain, but was a massive, jagged stone monolith just as tall as the peaks he strolled amongst. The thick skin pulled taut over his gargantuan legs looked as though it was made of sand, small flecks of something shiny reflecting the bright moonlight in an enchanting, flickering light show. When the god exhaled from the nostrils at the front of his wide, snakelike head, the wind had the smell of a spring breeze just after a rainstorm. And when Kraag turned his head downward to look at Robin, the Windwalker’s breath caught.

  Kraag’s eyes were twinkling pools of water, and despite still being high above Robin, he could see himself in the pools. There was an aquifer of emotion just behind the reflection excitedly wanting out. Only one was being allowed to express itself.

  Kraag was so happy to see Robin. And he was nervous that Robin would not like him. And he was so sorry to wake Robin up, but he was just so excited to see him.

  “We almost got to him before you,” one of the three shamans said suddenly, teasing the man from the shell that had gathered Robin. Robin was immediately caught by her beauty. She was clad in a traditional Winter Sailor costume made up of a two piece garment that, even in the moonlight, was clearly a bright sapphire color. The clothing was made more modest by sashes and scarves and a robe of sparkling tulle that gave the woman the appearance of being clad in the oceans.

  “You’re dismissed now. Your job is done.” The woman who harshly banished the man was the opposite of her Winter Sailor counterpart. This hag was huddled over, weighed down by layers of brown shawls and massive necklaces of strong stones. In her hand was a rod of sandstone, lightened with holes driven through it, and chiseled smooth. She was a Stone Circle Shamaness. Just as blunt and mean as Robin expected from them.

  The third figure at Kraag’s feet was a handsome, dark skinned Summer Wanderer, in traditional clothes just like his friends. Billowing silver pants contrasted with his shirtless torso and the bright copper bangles he wore on his arms in a way that was clearly designed to catch attention.

  “Welcome to the host,” the watery witch said, flowing over to Robin and gingerly grabbing his hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you. Kraag has been thinking of you for quite some time. My name is Anya.”

  “The pleasure is mine, Anya,” Robin said with a smirk.

  “No!” shrieked the stone circle woman. The rod came down between the eyes of the two. “Your hedonism is through! You are a representative of the voice of our god.”

  Robin was completely taken aback. “Actually,” he began. “I came to say no thank you.”

  “What?” Anya asked, sounding heartbroken.

  “I don’t want to be the Speaker,” Robin said.

  “Good.” The old crone let out a barking laugh. “Hopefully we can get someone more respectful to hold the title.”

  “You mean a Stone Circle,” the Summer Wanderer said, his deep voice a harsh plug on what Robin was sure was an explosive temper. He stared the crone down with eyes that showed how angry he could get if the conversation continued.

  “Maybe, Yanni” she said with a wave. “Kraag gets to decide, does he not?”

  “And Kraag chose you,” Anya urged to Robin.

  “What is wrong with being the Voice of Kraag?” Yanni asked, stepping forward. There was something almost threatening in his voice.

  “Nothing is wrong with it,” Robin said softly. “I just don’t think it’s for me, is all.”

  The old woman laughed again. “As if you have agency when a god calls to you? Who do you think you are, Windwalker? It is all a pleasure for you all, isn’t it? Run from stimulation to stimulation. You all are disgusting.”

  “Well now I want to deny it to get away from her.”

  Suddenly, Robin was awash in something. Happiness, but a little more focus. A sort of joviality that comes from jokes made at another’s expense. It was so overwhelming it nearly took Robin’s breath away. He looked up to see Kraag looking down at the four, his mouth wide and slightly open. As close as he could get to a smile.

  “You feel something?” Anya asked excitedly. “What is it?”

  Robin looked at Anya and Yanni. “I think he’s laughing at her.”

  The old woman spun on her heels and stared knives at Robin and looked to Kraag. His head slowly tilted from the woman to Robin and back again.

  Yanni cracked a smile. “What is wrong, Louise?”

  The woman did not respond, only smoldered.

  “You have the gift,” Anya explained. “You have the connection. And he already trusts you. We were going west, you know? Before he found you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You dense fool,” Louise spat. “We all had to change our plans, intentions, and goals because Kraag thought you seemed acceptable. Glad to see we suffered for nothing. I only hope Kraag recovers from the disappointment quickly.”

  “Pay her no mind,” Yanni urged. “Her tribe split when we changed direction because many did not want to see a new Speaker that was not from the Circle.”

  “Was it truly Kraag that decided to see me?” Robin asked, looking up in awe at the elder god.

  Anya nodded. “Kraag only chooses a speaker when he needs to speak. And he only chooses the speaker who can be trusted to speak for him. That is you Robin!”

  “Why does he need to speak now?”

  A new emotional flood washed over Robin. There was a fear, but as Robin explored it, focusing on the fine details of the emotion, it seemed to be anxiety. Fear based on a distant, looming threat. A storm not yet even on the horizon.

  When Robin looked back to Anya, he saw her forcing a smile through discomfort. “We don’t know. But we do know that you are the one that can speak for him. And you can put the perfect words to everything he wishes to say.”

  “As long as it’s erotic and shallow happiness,” Louise muttered.

  “That is why we are here,” Yanni added, half to her, and half to Robin. “Kraag believes he needs a voice, and so we need you. But you need our experience.”

  “Accept your calling, Robin,” Anya added. “We will teach you the flexibility and calm of the waters. The passion and the fury of the flames. The stalwart and hardheadedness of the stones.”

  “And the wind?” Robin asked.

  Louise scoffed. “Idiot. Why would we train you in what Kraag recognizes your expertise in?”

  An expert? Robin looked up at Kraag again and was enveloped in Kraag’s welcoming affection. Robin let the emotion fill him. For all the flirting and seducing he had ever done, never had he felt so appreciated as he did in that moment. Far beyond any of the carnal and emotional satisfaction he had pursued through his life. He smiled wide at his new friend, then looked at Anya.

  “What about my job? I run for the Host.”

  “Already being handled, Robin,” Yanni said, stepping closer, confident in the turn Robin was taking. “We have explained to your planner and the merchants who depend on you that Kraag needs you. We will name some replacements that we recommend. If they accept, then your job will be in capable hands. If they turn down the offer, then all you need is Kraag’s agreement and you will be permitted time away if necessary. This position is a lifestyle, and a positive one. Not a prison sentence.”

  “I,” Robin paused. “I think I could try it. But is there a point of no return? Some paper I sign that locks me in?”

  Immediately, Kraag’s excitement struck Robin. It was so full of glee that Robin could not contain his own laughter. He knew then that he had already passed that point.