“Fine, fine, forgive me. Can I speak ill of the brat, at least? When your allies sent me packing on a boat, I was told Thanet would have a legendary killer uniting the populace. That whelp over there barely finished learning how to wipe his own ass.”

Cyrus glanced at his master. His eyebrow arched.

“Are you sure we need him?”

“Quite sure,” Thorda said. “Though my confidence falters with each passing moment.”

Arn twisted the cork off the bottle and then tossed it over his shoulder. When he lifted the bottle to his nose, he smelled honey and lavender. Interesting. Had Thorda brought it with him from the mainland?

“Sorry, it’s been a long few months, and my arrival here wasn’t much fun.” It was the best apology he’d give the group. “Let me make it up to you with a bit of news. I had some interesting passengers with me on my trip. Ten Seeds, all eager and ready to give their lives in service of the Everlorn Empire. I’m shocked the weight of their faith didn’t sink our boat beneath the waves.”

The local boy showed only confusion, but the three members of the Ahlai family reacted much more appropriately: with worry and confusion.

“You believe they’re here for a ritual?” Thorda asked.

“That I do.”

“What ritual?” asked the young prince. “Could someone catch me up, please?”

“There is power in faith and belief,” Thorda explained. “That power gives glow to the blades of Lycaena’s paladins, it creates the divine swords of the empire’s priests, and gives rise to the gods themselves. Of all the rituals, prayers, and rites, none are greater than blood sacrifice. The Seeds will offer their lives to their intended recipient, transforming that person’s body into that of a paragon. I must say, to have one performed here on Thanet is highly irregular.”

“Not irregular, damn well unheard of.” Arn drained half the bottle, thoroughly enjoying the burn as it traveled down his throat. Liquor had been painfully lacking on the journey to the island, and he was pleased to see the locals capable of some heady, strong vintage. “All new paragons are birthed at the Bloodstone back in the capital of Eldrid. There’s an approval process, a training regiment, all sorts of shit you have to endure. If there are Seeds here, then someone with a whole lot of weight is pulling strings to do something they shouldn’t be doing.”

“Sinshei,” Stasia said. Her hands white-knuckled the hilts of her twin axes. “It must be. Who else has that level of authority?”

“Sinshei vin Lucavi?” Arn asked, lifting an eyebrow the muscular woman’s way. “As in one of the God-Incarnate’s daughters? Yeah. That’d do it. I take it she’s the Anointed One here on Thanet?”

“That she is,” answered Thorda.