This is Mawyndulë. This is the one who killed Nyphron, Sephryn, and in the Battle of Grandford, the great Arion—mentor to Suri.

“As you can see, I’ve learned how to deal with the tattoos. I had hoped to erase all of you together: all of Nyphron’s children with one stroke. But I can see that centuries of luxury have made you tardy little brats. I suppose I can’t have everything. You’re pretty, for a human, Farilane. It’s a shame, but it has to be. Goodbye, princess and good knight.” He laughed at his own jest, which gave Farilane just enough time to speak.

“If you kill us, you’ll never get the horn.”

Mawyndulë blinked, then smirked. “I’ve already got it.” He hooked a thumb at the throne. “Smart of you to realize I can’t hide it except behind a real cloth.”

“That’s not the horn.”

“Of course it is.”

Farilane forced herself to chuckle as convincingly as she could, uncertain whether her bravado was good enough. “Do you honestly think Sephryn would just hand over the horn to you like that? She knew we were coming before we got there. She knew who you were. And she hated you. Are you so stupid as to think the empress dowager, who fought in the ghazel invasion, would simply hand the horn over like that?”

Mawyndulë’s eyes darkened. She had his attention, which had been her intent, but it was gained at a cost—sort of like slapping a bear in the mouth. Too much slapping and the bear wouldn’t listen to reason. And there was also the chance that the bear was incapable of reasoning at all. It was time to distract him with something shiny.

“If you don’t believe me, prove it to yourself. You have the key now. Open the box.”

Farilane was rolling dice here. She had no idea if Mawyndulë had the key. She really didn’t know much of anything, but every word was another second gained, another chance to roll more dice. Meanwhile, Kolby stood firm as her human shield, forcing her to shout over his shoulder.

Mawyndulë glanced at the seat of the chair, then walked down the steps of the dais toward the body of Sheldon. As he did, Sheldon faded away. In place of the carpenter’s corpse lay Estermon the Second, minus his mantle. Maddock also disappeared, revealing the real Sheldon Faust, and the reason Ethan’s blade had struck no armor. The carpenter wore only his wool tunic.

The throne room as a whole changed slightly. The lighting was different. It took Farilane a moment to notice that a wall-sconce lamp was out—the one nearest the door. Beside it she saw that two of her graphite markings had been smeared beyond recognition.