Let me see him. Kylar put his hand on his friend’s arm and saw Logan, through his own eyes, less handsome, but fierce, primal in the filth of the Hole, tearing raw flesh from a human leg with his teeth, weeping. There he was hating the Holers, sinking into the filth, becoming a Holer in his own eyes. There he was deciding over the hard knot of hunger that gnawed him day and night that he would share his next meal lest he abandon being human altogether. There he was, handing out food and hating those who accepted, but doing it. That small core of nobility became the most important possession Logan had, and he would pay any price for it.

That lesson was bound up with Serah Drake, who had been Logan’s fiancée before King Gunder forced him to marry Princess Jenine. Logan had loved Serah once, but that love had withered over the years, finally propped up only by false kindness. He’d been planning to marry the wrong woman because he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Breaking his engagement had been the right thing to do, but it had seemed too cruel. But if they hadn’t been engaged, Serah wouldn’t have been at the castle the night of the coup. She’d still be alive. In the Hole, sharing food had been the right thing to do. It had seemed stupid, but in the end, the Holers helped Logan because he helped them first. Logan’s failure and his success had driven home the same lesson: Do what you know is right, and you’ll get the best consequences in the end.

It was, Kylar thought, why Logan might be great. You could count on him. He was loyal, he was honest, and he would fight to the death to do the right thing. Always.

“We’ve both come pretty far,” Kylar said. “You think we can be friends?”

“No.” Grimly, Logan shook his head. “Not friends. Best friends.” Then he grinned, and the last year seemed to roll off Kylar’s back. They were the kind of friends who would stand and be counted. For Kylar, who had always kept dirty secrets that threatened everything, the feeling was precious beyond words.

“What happens now?” Kylar asked.

“One more errand and then, well . . .  I’m going to write a book.”

Kylar tented his eyebrows. “No offense, Your Ogrishness, but what are you going to write a book about?”

“You know how I’ve always loved words. I’m going to write a book of words.”

“I was under the impression that that’s what most books are.”

“Not composed of words. I’m going to write a book defining all the words in our language. I’m calling it a dictionary.”

“You’re writing in Jaeran?”

“Yes.”

“Defining Jaeran words?”

“Right.”

“So you’ll have to already know Jaeran to read it?”

“You make it sound stupid,” Logan said, scowling.