We walked briskly across the courtyard to the Hall of Earthly Wisdom, next to the palace gardens. It was a rectangular building with an overhang running around the outside, supported by pillars. The main hall was an open space with a high ceiling, the doors to various rooms around its perimeter. Despite light filtering in from high above, the hall itself was dim.

I strode through the open doors. A couple of servants moved within, freshening up the rooms and carrying dishes away. “Where is he?” A servant pointed wordlessly to the small dining room, off to the side of the main hall.

I found a man inside, sitting cross-legged on a cushion at the table, a steaming mug of tea cupped in his hands. For some reason I’d pictured him old and wizened. This man was young – perhaps even younger than me. High cheekbones cut slashes across his faces; his nose curved gently outward like a hawk’s. His hair was close-clipped and he wore simple, dark green robes.

“Ah,” he said, smiling and setting his mug down. “You must be the new Emperor.”

Something in his expression made me wave back to Jovis. “Tell the servants to leave. Close the door.”

He moved to obey.

“I am,” I said. “But I do not know you.”

“You shouldn’t.” He folded his hands on the table. “I’ve lived my whole life in the monastery. My name is Ragan. Please, Eminence, sit.”

As though he were the master here, and not me. “I’ll sit if it pleases me.”

His smile only widened. “You may want to. I bring news. Good news!”

I thought of the tasks I’d set Ikanuy to and raised an eyebrow. “The cloudtree monks have decided to conscript themselves to my service?”

“Ah. No. But I have.”

“One monk.”

“Eminence.” He lifted a finger, his expression going stern, as though to rebuke me. “You should never turn down help. Not when you need it. News of the construct army is spreading fast. Your soldiers have done what they can, but the construct army has taken several islands. They are coming for you. And the Shardless Few lie in wait.”

The instructional tone from this youth irritated me to no end. Thrana growled, her hackles raised.

He looked at her, nodding as though in understanding. “You’ve bonded too closely with your ossalen.”

My veins turned to ice. Behind me, I heard Jovis’s staff tap against the floor. Once, twice. “What do you mean?”

“History. Imperial teaches it, though even your knowledge is sorely lacking. It was the Alanga purge, you see. The Sukais destroyed not just the Alanga – they burned their books, razed many of their buildings. But the monasteries are fortresses. And we –” He tapped his temple. “– we kept the books safe.” He lifted his mug and took another sip. “So you shouldn’t scoff at my help. Besides, I am not simply one monk. As I said: news!”