“That will do,” Hectate cut in, slicing at the air with a wrinkled hand. “Don’t teach the lout how to make the stuff. Fascinating as the effects are,” she sneered at the cage and the Dredger now curled back into a ball at its corner, “one need only observe the end result. Monsters, all. I say we eradicate the lot, save what we use for demonstration. Hopeless, pathetic curs racing to the grave. And all for some ground-up coral.” She slapped a hand against the cage, her voice rising. “Was it worth throwing your life away?”

“Coral?” said Anji, ignoring the tension emanating off the Hawk still hovering at her side.

The Maxia’s mouth twisted. “Coal coral, to be exact. Native to the Kalafran coast. The polyps themselves have no effect, but the black exoskeletons are harvested, dried, then ground to powder. The Spurs call it Rail.”

Anji had no idea what a Spur was, but before she could ask, Hectate continued.

“Ingenious, I’ll admit,” she said, “what these addicts do for a high. They dive for it, risking reef sharks and sting jellies. Coal coral only grows on certain types of rock, volcanic stuff…” She snapped her fingers at Alphoronse.

“Basalt, Illuminess.”

“Basalt, yes,” said Hectate, “horrid black stone—unnatural. Those mangy Inheritance priests used to build those awful cathedrals out of it.” She sniffed. “Gaudy structures.”

Anji thought that was rich, coming from a woman in a robe of such a bright yellow she’d have had to shade her eyes if not for the bank of dark clouds rolling in from the west, eating up the sun and its light. Hectate hobbled back to her bench, sat, and slipped the sack of candy out again.

“Listen to us,” she said, squinting at the lowering sun, “prattling on.” She slid another piece of rock sugar between her lips. “We’d best hasten to Silverton while the weather agrees with the road.”

The Hawk inclined her head and shoved Anji out of the way as Alphoronse got to his seat and gathered up the reins. He twirled the leather around one slender hand and looked around the camp as though seeing it for the first time, his violet eyes finally landing on the Hawk.

“Forgive me if I’m mistaken,” he said slowly, “but I was under the impression that of your cadre, only the Goat was trained in maxia.” He gestured toward the invisible tether around Anji’s ankle. “You’ve managed quite an impressive pair of charms—strong, both of them. And efficient for one unattended.”

The Hawk didn’t flinch. “An undeserved boon from our esteemed leader, Maxia Alphoronse. The High Cleric saw fit to teach me charms of Seizure and Sealing. You know how he rewards those who please him.”

“Indeed,” said Alphoronse. “I do, however, detect a third pooling on your person? Perennial, but weak…”

“A trinket,” said the Hawk, “of mere sentimental value, I assure you.”