Actually, I couldn’t see why he was sharing all this with me to begin with. Maybe he foresaw needing my help later. Even so, it was weird and discomfiting. Being the only Nolander Cordus took into his confidence was worse than being the only Nolander learning Baasha, by an order of magnitude.

“For the time being,” he continued, “I can tell you one thing about the weapon: it is likely a thing of great power. Lord Limu seems to have put a noticeable amount of his strength into it. He is markedly weaker than he was when we first became holders of territories in this world, and he is not one who would surrender capacity lightly.”

I thought about how easily Limu had let himself be goaded into attacking. Perhaps he’d assumed he could win. Maybe he’d always been the stronger of the two.

But wait.

“You can put your capacity into an object?” I asked. “How is that possible?”

“It is an ancient art, now lost — or so I believed. I can think of no other explanation for his comparative weakness.”

He thought for a few seconds, then shook his head.

“Whatever this weapon does, I suspect it will perform its function … what is the contemporary expression? ‘To the nth degree.’”

“And it must be really important to him.”

“I imagine so. He has made quite the sacrifice.”

“So, we have to stop him from using it, right?”

Cordus turned to look at me directly, his cold gaze meeting mine.

“That depends, Miss Ryder, on his intended target, does it not?”

Chapter 17

At the end of my lesson the following morning, my day took an unexpectedly nice turn.

“You may now pay a short visit to Justine Jenson Ryder,” Cordus said. “For the remainder of the day, you will work in the stables as a reminder not to offend the likes of Ambassador Cra.”

I schooled my face, trying to look chastened. Inside, I did a cartwheel. Shoveling horse manure instead of getting hounded by Gwen and knocked down by Tezzy? He couldn’t have given me a nicer surprise if he’d shopped all day. God bless Ambassador Cra.

I made a quick stop in my room and changed into jeans, sneakers, and a sweater for my upcoming stint in the stables. Then I headed down the hall to see Justine.

“Hey, Koji,” I said as I approached. “You feeling okay?”

There was always a guard outside Justine’s door. It was never one of the white-wearers. The guards didn’t seem intended to overpower Justine, but just to guide her back to her room, should she wander too far.

This morning, it was Koji. He looked awful — ashen and sweaty.

“Hey, Beth. Touch of flu. No biggie.”

“You sure? You look like you should be in bed.”

“Nah, I’m fine.”

He swallowed hard a few times.