Janel hadn’t looked at anyone else. She must have suspected Ninavis knew a location but gave the woman a chance to offer it herself.

Once Ninavis had spoken, it seemed to free up the others. Jem Nakijan nodded, as did Tanner, Vidan, and Gan Not-Actually-the-Miller’s-Daughter-After-All.

“Aye,” Dango agreed. “It’s big enough to fit us all too.”

“Good.” Janel pointed to the crowd. “Now I want our eight strongest riders and every available horse. Volunteers, step up.”

While Janel and the others fretted over team distributions, Brother Qown focused his attention on Baron Tamin. He’d had little success in pulling the smoke from Tamin’s lungs, but removing the baron from the smoke’s borders had helped. The blind panic behind his eyes haunted Brother Qown most—the look of a man awake and conscious, feeling every desperate failed pull from his lungs.

“That glyph thing ain’t working?” Dorna knelt next to Tamin and checked his eyes, his nose, his mouth. Tamin still choked, although never quite to death.

“It makes the air around his head clean, but I don’t think it’s doing anything about what’s already in his lungs. New air can’t get inside.” Brother Qown shook his head. “This glyph … I’ve never seen anything like it, Dorna.”

The old woman frowned. “What are you on about? You’re the one who was using it. I just copied what I saw you doing.”

“But it shouldn’t have worked! The only reason—” He caught himself. “I’ll explain later. I have to figure out how I’m going to clean his lungs.”

Dorna stared at him as if he were missing something very obvious.

Brother Qown glanced up. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

She leaned in. “Ain’t you supposed to be proper educated? Got your shiny Blue House magic license and all that?”

“I never told you—” Brother Qown lowered his voice to a whisper. “I never told you I owned a Physickers Guild license.” He didn’t talk about such things while in Jorat. The local beliefs didn’t mesh well with the knowledge he held formal training and licensed permission to practice magic. The Joratese only put up with the Gatekeepers because the Quuros military and their economic stability demanded it. Everyone ignored a little heathen magic if it meant they could cross the realm to see their favorite knights perform on a regular basis.

“Ah, well. Heard the old count talking about you people before he passed on. You have book training. That’s my point.”

“I don’t need your mockery right now, Dorna—”

She visibly rolled her eyes and indicated Tamin. “So answer me this, priest: Does like not call to like? You and your fancy education learned that much, didn’t you?”

“What are you—?” Brother Qown stopped.