Arn downed the rest of the bottle, tossed it to the floor, and then ignored the glares as he popped the cork of the second bottle with an easy flick of his thumb.

“Then she’s your likely culprit.” This bottle was sweeter, its taste reminding him of cherries and perhaps a faint scent of roses. Normally he’d dismiss such a combination, but the kick it gave him on the way to his stomach was most impressive. “I’d say she lied about the real reason she’s bringing them over. Based on the prayers and songs I had to endure, they probably think they are here to proselytize to a stubborn populace refusing to convert their faith to the God-Incarnate.”

“There’s more to this that worries me,” Cyrus said. “Let’s say you’re right, that Sinshei plans to do whatever ritual Arn’s describing to turn someone, illegally, into a paragon. First question, who? Second question, why? What does she have to gain from this? It can’t be in response to my assassination attempt, or our resistance. Travel here takes months. This was planned before we started.”

Nothing but shrugs and confused looks around the room. This only confirmed Arn’s belief that the paragon ritual had been organized in secret. Back at the Bloodstone, the creation of a new class of paragons was celebrated widely. What was happening here, he had a feeling word was not meant to reach the mainland.

“Something strange is afoot,” Thorda said. “And I loathe being uninformed. We need to find these Seeds and, if possible, disrupt the ritual. Mari, I trust you can handle the former?”

“Of course I can.” The chubby woman hopped down from her chair and crossed the room to Arn. She seemed almost giddy with excitement. “Do you have anything belonging to these people, the Seeds? Anything of theirs that might carry a scent?”

Arn tilted his head to one side. A bit of wine dribbled down his cheek.

“Not on me, no, but the boat they came on should be docked for a week or two before the crew’s up for a return trip to Garlea. You got yourself some tracking hounds?”

Mari smiled sweetly at him. Something about that smile unnerved him far more than any speech by Lendsy.

“Hounds? No, Arn. Not hounds. Me.”

CHAPTER 28

MARI

The stars were not yet out when Mari bounded across the rooftops in the form of the Lioness. Her path led her silently to the boat docks. Finding the right caravel was easy enough. From her perch atop a wharf guild she scanned the area for imperial soldiers. With night approaching and the harbor blockaded against smugglers by five distant warships, there wasn’t much reason for military patrols. Of the few ships docked, their crews were expected to use their own men to safeguard their possessions.