“Ronin is a sower,” I say quietly, surprised. Sowers use their water magic to nurture the earth. They’re architects of nature, the most powerful of whom can make crops flourish even in times of drought.

I suppose Ronin’s familiar, connected to his considerable power through their bond, could account for the presence that had crawled inside my chest and made room against my spine, demanding my attention.

“What?” Theyen says distractedly as he tunes his instrument, strings stretched over a long resonant cavity made of lacquered wood.

“What do you think he’s hiding back there?” I ask.

He pauses and looks down his nose at me. “You’re going to have to be less dim-witted if you expect to keep my company. We just discussed the existence of a Spinner.”

“Kindly stop insulting my friend,” Saengo says with an arch of her brows that I’m certain she learned from her father.

Theyen is unimpressed. “That was your idea of an insult? I wasn’t even trying.”

“It’s fine,” I say. “He doesn’t pretend to like me. I’m used to it.”

“Just because I don’t like you doesn’t mean I dislike you.”

“Well, that’s flattering,” I say dryly.

“You should be flattered. My attention is hard to keep.”

Any more time in Theyen’s company, and I’ll be at risk of injuring myself from repeatedly rolling my eyes. “Anyway, I don’t mean just a Spinner.”

Whatever power lurks in the garden maze sank hooks into my skin, and it’s been trying to reel me back ever since. If his familiar is back there, then it must be powerful indeed to not only resist the rot but to maintain Ronin’s control—

The thought jolts through me. Ronin’s familiar is the key to his power. It’s so stupidly obvious now that I’ve realized it. Shamans can’t perform magic without familiars. Ronin is no different. His loss of control over the Dead Wood and whatever’s keeping the spirits tied here is connected as well to his familiar. Something must be wrong with it.

“Do you think you could help me get into that maze?” I ask.

“Why would I do that?” His fingers hover over the strings, waiting.

“Because I know you want Ronin to dissolve your engagement with the Ember Princess. Maybe we’ll find something back there to help you negotiate.”

A slow smile twists his mouth as he withdraws a fingerpick from beneath the instrument. “I think I’m beginning to like you.”

I turn a triumphant look at Saengo. She mouths, “I don’t trust him.”

Neither do I. But I mean to take advantage of whatever assistance he’s willing to offer.

“There’s one more thing I was hoping you could tell me. Have you heard any news from Evewyn? Anything about the shamanborn?”