Age of Legend (The Legends of the First Empire, #4)

by Michael J. Sullivan

Tesh refused to count higher than twelve. The way he saw it, beyond that, there weren’t any more real numbers—at least not any with their own names. What followed were those queer ten numbers that were repeats: four-ten, five-ten, six-ten. And everyone mispronounced them like Edgar just had. Instead of five and ten, he called it fifteen. As far as Tesh was concerned, thirteen was the most dangerous number because it was the first one that went beyond the acceptable range.

The wisdom of sacrificing one to save many appears obvious, but too often that depends on who is the one and who are the many.

This was nothing like any building she had ever seen. This wasn’t brutally set upon the land or hacked from stone, and it certainly wasn’t assembled from the carcasses of trees. The tower hadn’t been forced into existence; it had been invited, born into the world. It belonged to Elan just as much as the rivers, mountains, or forests.

“We Fhrey,” Tekchin said, “don’t stay with one person our whole lives. Maybe because with so much time it gets too boring. I don’t know, but we don’t feel that deeply for each other. We’re taught not to. People go insane that way, too much loss over the centuries.