I DIDN’T ACTUALLY head back to our rooms. First, I had to have a conversation with a dead goblin, and I wasn’t actually entirely sure how to do that. I had a feeling that the limited commentary in my brain was exactly that—limited. Holding a conversation wasn’t necessarily something I’d managed to do yet—though it wasn’t like I was champing at the bit to do so in the first place. We’d have to create a space where we could see each other physically, and not touch each other. There was only one goblin who could probably get me the results I wanted.

Diaval had a number of haunts around the palace. Normally places that were dangerous, like the chasm I threw Aleksey off of so long ago or hidden passageways that’d been built back thousands of years ago when the palace was made. She’d actually climbed down that chasm to retrieve and burn the remainder of Aleksey’s body, saying we didn’t want someone who tried to betray Soren’s ghost haunting the place. Honestly, I was glad. Aleksey may have been plotting against Soren, but he was also the first goblin I killed. Maybe the first goblin of the total Hunt to be killed. The idea of a proper burial took some weight off my conscience.

Though there was no way I’d climb down a chasm, I still checked most of the known haunts she had, and had nearly given up when I finally found the she-goblin, lying in a small crevice like it was a hammock, reading, of all things.

“Diaval?” I asked.

“Yes?” The she-goblin didn’t look up from her book. I tilted my head to try to catch a glimpse of the title, but all I could make out were runes too old for me to know the meaning of.

“That can’t be comfortable,” I said, frowning.

“Things being comfortable are for the weak,” Diaval said.

“Oh?” I raised my eyebrows.

“Besides, I like the pain. Makes me feel good.”

Well, I wasn’t touching that comment with a six-foot pole, so instead, I counted to five and started over.

“I need your help.”

“I’m busy,” she said.

I narrowed my eyes. “That was kind of an order, not a request.”

She finally looked up, dark eyes twinkling. “There’s that backbone. What is it you need help with exactly?”

I spilled it all out to her. Donnar’s words and what he showed me, the idea that Lydian might somehow know something about my visions, the plan to try to speak with him on some even ground where both of our spirits could hear each other clearly. Throughout the whole time, Diaval’s expression never changed. I wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good or bad thing.

“So,” she said when I finished. “You need my help to get into a liminal space.”

“A … what?”