Cortes Immer’s broken walls had been repaired, its towers rebuilt. Filis had only a glimpse of this before he was dragged inside, then down level after level to the old dungeon. His belly clenched with more than hunger. He would die here, and die in some horrible way, he was sure. He tried to set himself to accept that and save what little honor he could. Whatever the threat, he would not betray his family.

When Alured the Black—the Duke of Immer, his guards announced—finally appeared, he looked Filis up and down with obvious contempt. “I could wish it had been any of the others,” he said. “I know about you. The troublemaker. Quarrelsome, gambler, drinker. Your father may count himself lucky you ran off, though he may worry about what secrets you brought.” He stood silent a long moment, while Filis tried to hold himself with dignity. Alured was much as his father and brothers had described: tall, well made, black hair in a braid now decorated with ribbons in his colors rather than the green feathers he’d worn in Siniava’s War. He wore gold armlets, a wide collar set with jewels, and over that a necklace that flashed in the dimness like sunlit water, blue and white.

The necklace … he looked away, hoping his face showed nothing. Alured smiled. “You recognize this?”

Best not to answer. But pressure built in his head, as if to burst his skull, and he heard himself say the truth: “I never saw that before.”

“But you heard of it.”

“Yes.”

“And you know what it is part of?”

“I have not seen it.”

“But you have heard … no, do not answer. You must have heard; I know the gossip in Valdaire and Foss Council and Vonja, all the way downriver.” He shook his head. “If only you were more valued by your father, Filis, I would use you. But though we shall wait to see, I think he will not waste much to trace you. If that should be true, you will have no value to me. Think on that.” He turned away, said a few words Filis could not hear to the guards, and went back up the stairs.

What came next was a black hole into which he was shoved and a heavy lid slamming down over the opening. He had no way of knowing how long he huddled in the dark; it was too small to lie down in comfortably, the stone walls and floor rough, chill, and damp. Though he could stand, his outstretched arms touched the sides. Hunger and thirst tormented him; when he was finally pulled out, he was too weak to walk and fainted.