I nod and tell her about the dream and the earthwender girl who’d treated me at the Valley of Cranes. What could have happened? Had Evewyn’s soldiers thrown her to the trees?

“Do you think they meant Ronin trapped them?” Saengo asks.

“Who else could they mean?” And why would she say Suryali? It’s a Nuvali word and the name of Kendara’s sword.

If, somehow, Ronin bound the souls to the Dead Wood, then Ronin’s problem isn’t that he’s losing control over the trees; he’s losing control over his own powers. That would explain why he deflected my questions. Maybe that loss of control led to the emergence of the rot. The rot, like the ever-increasing spread of the Dead Wood, is a symptom of a deeper problem.

As I wash up, the earthwender girl’s face surfaces again behind my closed eyes. She must have been newly taken. To be able to speak to me, some part of who she’d been must remain intact. But the longer she’s trapped there, the more her soul will wither until, as Phaut said, she will become nothing but rage.

Would Ronin know what happened to her? Would he even tell me? I’d probably have more luck asking Theyen. He’s informed of what goes on beyond Spinner’s End.

Given the way our duel ended and my suspicions about the shadowblessed assassin, the idea of reaching out to him makes my stomach curdle. But I have questions, and not just about what’s going on in Evewyn. Theyen might have answers.

Before I change my mind, I draft an invitation to dinner this evening as thanks for his healer’s services and send it off with our maid. To my surprise, Theyen responds promptly.

“He says he’d prefer we join him in his rooms for lunch, and he will see us at noon,” I say, reading the message he sent back with the maid.

“That was quick.” Saengo rubs her chest, wincing a bit.

The echo of her pain tightens behind my ribs. “Maybe—”

“Don’t you dare suggest I stay in bed.” She drops her hand from her chest. “When’s the next time I’ll get to dine with a Kazan prince? I’m going.”

“Fine. But I warn you he’s completely unbearable.”

I’m wary of him, but I doubt he’d try anything in his own rooms. Besides, Theyen is well informed and in a position of considerable influence. If he weren’t my enemy, then a Kazan Hlau would be a powerful ally.

Theyen and his many attendants occupy an entire wing of the castle. Kazan guards are posted at nearly every entrance and stairwell. Their uniforms—ink-black armor over midnight-blue tunics and curved blades tucked into matching sashes—mark them as soldiers from Penumbria.