“Oh, one more thing,” Basel said. “I read Tanax’s report from Deepfire. He described your performance at the warehouse as extraordinary.”

“I …” Maya hesitated. “I lost control of myself. Jaedia would have scolded me.”

“Quite possibly,” Basel murmured. “Can I ask if you experienced any aftereffects? In particular …” He tapped his chest, just where the Thing was on Maya.

“I … think so,” Maya said, frowning. “It felt … hot, and the skin around it was inflamed. Then, after I returned, I collapsed for days.” She described her brief period of delirium in the cell. “I thought it was the shock of hearing about Jaedia. Do you think they’re related?”

“It’s … possible.” Basel frowned. “The arcana in question is largely untested. We had some concern that it would react if you channeled deiat too powerfully for too long. Without experiments, I’m afraid we can’t know for sure.”

Maya touched the Thing, the hard knot of it firm against her fingers. “Do you need to examine it?”

“Not at the moment,” Basel said. “Just be cautious, and try not to stretch your limits. When you return with Jaedia, we will see what we can discover.”

“I understand,” Maya said. She bowed again. “Thank you, Kyriliarch.”

“Good luck, Centarch,” Basel murmured as she slipped out the door.

*

It was barely midafternoon, but the prospect of collapsing into bed seemed more and more attractive as Maya made her way down the interminable stairs and back to her own room. Her feet were dragging as she thumbed the latch, and she was trying to decide whether she had energy to change out of her formal tunic when she realized Beq was sitting in her chair. The sight of her sent a bolt of energy running up Maya’s spine, banishing her fatigue, even as the pained expression Beq wore set something twisting in her gut.

“Um,” Maya managed, letting the door close behind her. “Hi.”

“They wouldn’t let me in to see you,” Beq said. The light caught her spectacles and turned them into flat white disks.

“The healers … were very thorough.” Maya shifted her arm and winced. “And until just now I was still under Council restraint.”

“And now?” Beq said.

“I’m a centarch,” Maya said. Stating it like that, so simply, made her feel … strange.

“You won,” Beq said. Her voice was still flat.

“I won.” Maya took a hesitant step forward. “Beq, are you all right?”

“You …” Beq shot up from the chair and crossed the room to meet her. Her face was a mask of rage, and her eyes were full of tears. “You … idiot.” That clearly did little to relieve her feelings, and she went looking for harsher language. “You stupid plaguing fuck. You crazy fucking plaguepit.”

“Beq—”

“You could have died.” Beq squared off across from Maya, hands clenched into fists, shaking with rage. “I saw what happened. When you realized your panoply wasn’t working. You could have stopped the duel.”