She took it off and gave it to Khazireen after they made love in the Cave of the Pictures, after they’d discovered Rhazat’s tunnel into the fourth cave, the way she’d been coming and going to ravage the populace of Menosi. The entrance of the tunnel had been cloaked with magic, but Khazireen had discovered and unmasked it. It was a remarkable work of engineering, running under the ridge to the hillside overlooking Zikara.

Khazireen embraced her desperately and gave her the last of a thousand kisses. Holding the arm ring to his heart with his right hand, weeping, he stood facing his beloved as she stood in the mouth of the fourth cave, facing him. They both raised their left hands, each holding a Seal of Holding, each of which was mounted on a golden spike. Together they recited the spell—Saka dosthey arnatha somay—then touched the ends of the golden spikes together. Khazireen watched in despair as the cave behind Nhandi disappeared, replaced by an opening into a dead, grey vista.

The island shook to its very foundations, knocking him to his knees. Even here, deep in the ground, he could hear thunder rending the fabric of the world. It went on and on, then suddenly—silence.

He stood alone, facing the stone wall of the cave, where the Stone of Holding glowed in its golden setting among the archaic dancing figures in black. Khazireen screamed his agony, then called out “Erísmai, Nhandi, Nölienai talía!” Still clutching the arm ring, he knelt before the seal, drew a silver dagger, and slit his throat. The arm ring slipped from his fingers as he died …

Thero let out a bloodcurdling scream and cried out “Erísmai, Nhandi, Nölienai talía!” then curled in on himself and began to sob, horrible, raw, ragged cries, as if grief were ripping out his very soul. The arm ring fell from his fingers to the carpet.

As the others stood in shocked silence, Seregil knelt beside Thero and put an arm around the wizard’s heaving shoulders. No one said a word, and in time the sobs tapered off to choking gasps.

“What did you see?” asked Seregil.

Thero wiped his face on his sleeve, fighting for self-control. “I—I can’t, not all of it.” Alec offered him a cup of water and Thero downed it in two gulps and held out the cup for more. Gulping that down, he rested his head in his hands.

“The woman you saw, Alec—I believe it was the spirit of Hierophant Nhandi. The dyrmagnos has taken on her appearance.”

Seregil remained by Thero. “ ‘My skin,’ she said to Mika. What if it wasn’t Rhazat who showed Alec the seal? What if it was Nhandi, trying to make herself known?”

“What’s skin got to do with it, though?” asked Alec.