Isabelle sensed much of Primus Maximus in the slaver’s words. Had the slaver always been so twisted and bitter, or had his worship of Primus made him so? She turned her attention into the everdream and plunged down into Forenzio’s memories. By his side she slithered through the slave markets, the whorehouses, and the gambling dens of his career. The memories were none of them complete, and not even in any particular order. She climbed up a companionway in his ship and emerged on a clifftop on the coast of some nameless skyland, and when she turned around to retrace her steps, she found herself in a great villa atop one of the marble cliffs at Om.

Yet her trek was not without direction, for she sought his earliest memories, the very first enshrined in his vitera. The people and the buildings all grew taller as she delved into his memories as a half-grown man-child. Where had the corruption begun?

She remembered with him his own coming of age, his transformation into a fully fledged Fenice. Oh saints, how he hated the scruffy stage. His sisters laughed at him. He remembered with relief that great, full-body sneeze as he put away his cappotto di piume for the first time.

After he came into his power, girls had been more impressed, especially Cassandra, who was his same age and who had feathers of gold and bronze and a voice that could soothe the souls in Torment.

Then he received his first vitera. He had hoped to receive his father’s vitera, but instead he’d been told he’d be receiving one from some great-uncle he’d never heard of. His annoyance turned to awe when that distant uncle brought him Primus Maximus. He was never to tell anyone whose memories he carried, but with Primus’s help, he would gain everything he ever wanted.

It came to pass that Cassandra was to be married to a wealthy salt merchant in a distant city. All of their elders considered it a good match, and Cassandra was willing to at least meet the man, but the boy who would become the slaver was heartbroken.

Fortunately he had Primus. Never give your enemies anything but at a cost, he said. If they want this girl, make them pay, and it may well be they find the price too high.

Isabelle remembered vividly the argument Forenzio had with Cassandra. He explained how they could void the offer of alliance and lay the blame on the salt merchant, but she was appalled at the idea of betraying her family and threatened to reveal his plans to them.

The boy might have backed down, but Primus was his guide: If you cannot hold a bridge, a field, a town, always make sure your enemy can get no use from it either.

Her family never found Cassandra’s body, never knew what prize he had claimed from her beforehand.