“Partner.” Yes, that was good. “He is.”

* * *

I walked away from Resven, passed through Kosandion’s quarters into the hallway, and entered the throne room. It seemed cavernous now, empty and abandoned. Guests gave the inn life. They came from faraway places, bringing their magic and vitality with them, and they breathed it into the spaces they occupied. But eventually they left. The guests always did.

I passed the Ocean Dining Hall. Orro and his kitchen helpers were drinking whatever liquids got their various species intoxicated. They had done their job well, and now it was time for the kitchen staff to party. I slipped by the doorway, dampening the noise of my footsteps. I had seen kitchen staff parties before, and I needed to steer way clear of this one.

At the far end of the throne room, two people were talking. Miralitt and Derryl. The werewolf woman wore the uniform of a Capital Guard. So, she must have decided to take Miralitt’s offer.

The Capital Guard didn’t hire werewolves. The people of Auul made great mercenaries, but they resisted assimilation into other cultures. They were loyal to each other beyond all others, and that loyalty made them immune to the Dominion’s collective empathy. Sooner or later, they abandoned their duty and returned to their werewolf settlements.

Derryl was different. She wanted to leave the memories of Auul behind, and she desperately needed a place to belong and a cause that had nothing to do with growing fur and being compared to other werewolves. The people of Auul had fought the war for their planet for decades, and their martial arts were unparalleled. Derryl had all the proper training, and she had excelled in it, because she had pushed herself harder than anyone to gain that expertise. Technically, Miralitt agreed to hire her as a favor for Sean, but all four of us knew that it was a huge win for Miralitt. Hopefully, it would be a big win for Derryl as well.

I walked by them. Derryl bowed her head to me. Miralitt nodded.

It was almost as good of a solution as what happened to Prysen Ol. The First Scholar had been so pleased with himself, he’d actually squawked while explaining it to me. Prysen Ol was brilliant and conflicted, ripe for some guidance and conversion to a higher purpose. The Holy Ecclesiarch knew exactly how to mold him, and by the time he was done, the Dominion would gain a rare talent. Apparently, the First Scholar hadn’t gotten very far with his pleas to Kosandion, so he had gone to his favorite debate companion and announced that he had found his successor. I had my doubts, but stranger things had happened.

They even let Prysen Ol keep Tomato with him. The assassin and the green bear had a blood brother pact. There was probably an interesting story behind it, but I didn’t have time to listen to it.