Farilane studied the men. They looked a blur of indistinguishable soldiers: chin-strapped helmets, shoulder and chest armor, leather skirts, spears, and short swords. She wasn’t familiar with the legion the way she was with the Teshlors, but she did spot the boar symbol that designated them as members of the Fourth. Several hadn’t shaved in more than a day, and their feet were muddy. She didn’t find a single face she recognized.

The wagon rolled onto the waiting ferry. The soldiers took positions—ten to either side. As ropes were cast off, Farilane looked back for Manuel but didn’t see him.

“Helino, tell me,” Farilane said, “what other buildings have you designed?”

“I’m certain you wouldn’t know them.”

“You’re being modest. Come now. Tell me. I’m certain my father didn’t choose to gift me a building conceived by a novice architect. After all, this is my reward for saving him and the empire. So go on, impress me.”

“Well . . .” He hesitated, glancing at the others in the wagon. “I did have a modest hand in the design of that building.” He pointed behind them at the temple spires rising above the rest.

“The Aguanon?”

Helino gave a demure smile.

“Well now, that is impressive. The Aguanon is one of the most beautiful buildings in the city. You must be very proud.”

Helino’s smiled grew even fuller.

“You also must be a great deal older than you look, since the Aguanon is one thousand, eight hundred, and sixty-three years old. It is, in point of fact, the seventeenth oldest building in Percepliquis, and the first constructed without Belgriclungreian assistance. The dwarfs, who designed so much of the early city, refused to have anything to do with the Aguanon—it being a temple to Ferrol and all. I suppose that’s why you were recruited to design it, right? And all this time an elf from Merredydd calling himself Pathlos Dey Ven has taken credit for your work. Amazing.”

That big smile vanished. Helino sneered back at her. The other two stared—no, watched—Farilane intently. Ekles stopped playing with his tunic, his right hand lowering to his side.

“How about you, Orvis?” Farilane went on happily. “What wonders have you engineered? Invented the bow and arrow perhaps? The chariot? Fire?”

“I’ve done plenty,” he replied with a voice she wouldn’t have attributed to an engineer. Farilane hadn’t met many, but most were learned men with genteel personalities, and while they were largely a quiet group as a whole, they needed but a hint of invitation to begin speaking about their work. Once started, they gushed on and on like a spigot.

“Like what?” she pressed.

“Plenty.”

“And have you built plenty as well?” she asked Ekles, who rocked his shoulder against hers with the jostling of the river.