We’d discussed Tohon’s involvement. He’d either created the plague or helped spread it. But that hadn’t been what had snagged my interest. The notion that Tohon had protected his classmates had been the real surprise. One I hadn’t followed up on due to Estrid’s defection.

Maybe I shouldn’t focus on the victims, but on the survivors. How had Tohon protected them from the plague? And why did one-third of the population also survive? Did he protect them, too? Hard to rule a kingdom without subjects. But even harder to protect three million people.

Perhaps it was something they ate or drank? That might explain Tohon’s classmates, but not the others. No family had survived intact. It stood to reason that a family would all eat the same food. Unless it was something with an unusual taste or odd flavor that most people didn’t like.

The tanglefish from the Ronel Sea was considered a delicacy, but most people couldn’t get past the horrible smell to eat it. And most of those who loved the slimy stuff lived along the coast. Tastes in food were regional and the plague had spread evenly throughout the Fifteen Realms.

I needed to talk to Ryne about what they ate and drank at their boarding-school reunion before I dismissed that hypothesis. Keeping with that line of thought, I considered perfumes and colognes. Distilled from flowers and plants, those were also very subjective—with some loving a certain scent while others were repelled by it. Perhaps Tohon had sprayed his classmates. Again this hypothesis wouldn’t go anywhere until I talked to Ryne. Good thing he hadn’t left for HQ yet.

Ryne had commandeered a corner of the infirmary. He’d been organizing Fydelia’s lady warriors—Odd’s nickname for them—into smaller units based on their skills, and explaining his military strategies to them. The monkeys and Odd taught them how to go silent in the forest.

I waited until Ryne was alone before approaching him around midafternoon. It was four days after Kerrick and Flea had left—two more days until they returned. Ryne hunched over a map that had been spread over a table. Red arrows and Xs marked the parchment. His posture reminded me of my brother Criss. Perhaps he needed to take a break and look at it from another angle, as well.

“Do you have a minute?” I asked.

He glanced up. “Sure.” Gesturing to a nearby stool, he tossed his stylus onto the table and sat down.

Ryne no longer looked so haunted. But the dark circles under his eyes hadn’t disappeared. I suspected he’d need a month’s worth of sleep to recover fully.

I explained my theory. “Can you tell me everything you did during that reunion, including what you ate and drank?”