“The phrase isn’t in our language,” Kaden replied. “Not anymore.” He closed his own eyes. “Ac lanza, ta diamen. Tel allaen ta vanian sa sia pella.” He felt something shudder inside his mind, as though the language were a pry bar, as though some deep-buried stone foundational to his very being had shifted. “I am a gateway for the god,” Triste translated, voice terrified, awed. “I will unmake my mind so that she might pass.” Kaden nodded, and then, this time together, they spoke the awful words.
