“There are other problems,” she said, mostly to herself.

Farilane’s mind worked to catch up. She felt as if she’d been kidnapped, blindfolded, and thrown into a lake, and her brain struggled to understand by piecing together tiny clues. Only . . . only . . .

“What?” Kolby asked.

“Mawyndulë is a powerful wielder of magic,” she replied.

“So?” the emperor asked, with his usual disdain.

“So”—she bent down beside the body—“why come at you with a knife?”

The emperor huffed. “Because you drew marks on the walls that prevented the use of magic. Isn’t that obvious?”

Farilane stood up and nodded. “That’s right. It is obvious, isn’t it?”

She walked back across the throne room to the open door, then paused a few feet away to study it. In her mind’s eye, she imagined Mawyndulë in the guise of a guard walking in. He’d be confident that his magic would prevent anyone from knowing the truth. Then the illusion would dissolve like salt in water, or pop after the fashion of a soap bubble. “He would have known that or figured it out the moment he stepped inside. If I were him . . .” She looked at the wall to the right of the door. The Sheldon who had traveled with her was right-handed. That would be the dominant-hand side, the easiest for him to reach first with confidence. “I’d have tried to remove the symbols.” She looked at Kolby. “I didn’t have time to chisel the marks, and I didn’t think His Serene Eminence”—she dipped her head toward the dais—“would allow it, so I just drew them on with graphite. Mawyndulë could have smeared one out of existence with the palm of his hand, broken the defense, and killed everyone with a snap of his fingers.” She focused on Ethan. “You saw what Ruby Finn did, right?”

Ethan nodded.

“Compared to Mawyndulë, she’s a child. So why opt to use a knife?”

“He obviously didn’t know about the markings,” Estermon said. “By the time he did, it was too late, and he panicked. I could see it in his eyes as he came at me.”

Again, Farilane nodded. “Okay, but if he didn’t know about the markings—if he expected magic to work when he entered—why’d he bring the knife?”

Estermon shook his head and sighed. “All this speculation is pointless and tiring. The matter is rendered moot. Mawyndulë is dead, and I’m safe, but my old nerves have suffered. I want this over. Where are Nordyan and Nyrian? Why haven’t they come? You two.” He pointed at Kolby and Ethan. “Go find out what’s wrong.”

They bowed and made to leave.

“Wait,” Farilane said, peering closer at the perfectly marked, unblemished symbols on the wall.