He grimaced. “Yes. Nasaka pulled me out. She left my mother to burn up, but she pulled me out and rolled me in the dirt until all that was left was the pain. Then she pulled out that sword of hers. She made quick work of the legionnaires after that. But she didn’t go back for my mother.”

Ghrasia pressed her hand to his face. “It’s a horrible thing. I’m sorry it happened to you.”

“It’s done,” he said. He pushed out of bed. “I think I’m going to stay up and read for a bit. Do you mind?”

“What is it? A religious text?”

“A book of Kirana’s. Some lurid Dorinah romance.”

“That will do the trick,” she said.

He walked over to his tunic draped on the back of a chair and grabbed the book in his tunic pocket.

“You know what haunts me,” he said, “about Dorinah? Besides all the burning?”

“The legionnaire,” she said.

“How did you know that?”

“Dhai killing Dhai,” she said. “The first time you see it… it breaks the world, a little bit.”

Ahkio crawled into bed. He pressed himself against her, savoring the heat, as he opened the book.

“It’s odd to see all Kirana’s things stacked up here,” Ghrasia said, pointing to the trunks. “I’ve been trying to think of where I saw those maps of the basements before. I just remembered. Kirana requested six of the militia in Kuallina about, oh, four years ago? To help her go through and confirm some maps. They were just like those.”

“Why would she need militia to help with that?”

“That’s why I remember it. Odd request. I thought there might be a fugitive down there, some rogue novice or Ora she didn’t want to tell me about.”

“Something she… feared,” Ahkio said.

“That’s possible.”

Ahkio closed the book. “What if I told you I’d heard someone say that Kirana killed herself? Why would a person do something like that?”

Ghrasia touched his hands. “To save someone they love.”

Ahkio heard raised voices again. A shout. The noise was coming from the other side of the council house.

Ahkio glanced at the door. He saw light coming from beneath it. The house was abuzz with movement.

Ghrasia released him. “Oma’s breath,” she muttered, and began pulling on her clothes.

Ahkio lit a lantern. He tucked the book back into his tunic and pulled on the tunic. He yanked the bedsheets straight and grabbed his trousers.

Footsteps sounded in the hall, closer.

Just as Ahkio noticed the edge of Clan Leader Talisa’s terrible painting sitting behind the bed – he’d taken it down before taking Ghrasia to bed – the door burst open.

Caisa and Ohanni ran into the room.