“Praise the God-Incarnate for such a safe and swift voyage,” said Jarvis in front of him, and others echoed his thoughts. Arn felt a need to throw up a little in his mouth. He turned away, a nameless worry scratching at his insides. Everyone was on deck to watch the landing. Everyone, but…

Telling himself it meant nothing, Arn descended the stairs to the lower decks of the massive caravel. He patted his pocket, found it empty. He so badly wished his charm was with him. He usually went nowhere without it, but constant proximity to Lendsy and the acolytes had made him stash it away. Stupid. Should have kept it close.

Arn slowed at the door to his cabin. It was already cracked. He pushed it open the rest of the way, the creak of metal and wood announcing his presence to the trespasser in his room. Paragon Lendsy sat on the bottom bunk, Arn’s tiny chest of belongings resting beside him on the bed. Its contents were splayed out atop the sheets, mostly changes in clothes and some silver and bronze imperial coins. His secret charm remained still inside, its purpose apparently unnoticed by the paragon. The danger came from two separate objects: the word-lace lying on the bed and the enormous gauntlets Lendsy cradled in his lap.

“A word-lace for a simple builder?” he asked, not even looking at the silver and sapphire string of magic.

“Family heirloom,” Arn lied.

“Is that the same lie you plan to tell about these gauntlets?” Lendsy lifted a gauntlet higher and squinted in the poor light. “Such craftsmanship. Exquisite, truly exquisite. Ahlai-made, is it not?”

“So I’ve heard,” Arn said, pretending at calm. He stood in the doorway, blocking the exit. “Never cared much for such things.”

“But you should, and I can confirm the authenticity.” The paragon flipped the gauntlet, and he pointed to a small marking carved at the base near the wrist. “This is his symbol, rarely advertised, but always present. It wasn’t just his company that made this, but Thorda himself. They’d fetch an exorbitant price at any market, but that isn’t their only blessing.”

He put the metal to his lips and closed his eyes. Arn tensed the muscles in his legs. He almost attacked then and there, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he was being baited.

“I can feel the faith imbued within,” Lendsy said. He opened his eyes. “How many hours did our acolytes pray over this pair, I wonder? How many tears did they weep upon the leather? How much blood did they spill upon the iron?”

“You’re imagining things,” Arn said. “They’re a fine pair of gauntlets I bought on the cheap, that’s all.”