Instead, I said, “I murdered six people last night. Did Brother Qown tell you?”

“Murder,” Father Zajhera answered, “requires premeditation. And if I understand the legalities, you had every right to defend yourself against those men or indeed to take their lives for their affront.” He held up a finger as I started to retort. “They didn’t belong to your herd. They were not saelen. These were dangerous men committing illegal acts. But that’s not the real problem, is it?”

I sighed and stared down at my black fingers. “No, the real issue is that I lost control.”

“So it would seem. Was it possession? Did Xaltorath return?”

“No, I…” I turned away and stared at the dancing flames. “I became so angry. Furious. It just welled up inside me like a fire I could only quench with blood. I fear … I fear I’m becoming the very thing I hate.”

“Hmm.”

I glanced back at him, blinking. “Hmm? That’s all you have to say? Hmm?”

He shrugged, leaned back in his chair, and began to eat his porridge. “This is delicious. Dorna’s cooking?”

“You said it’s delicious, so no.”

“You’re blessed to have her by your side, my child. It’s not rice, is it?”

“I haven’t the faintest. Barley? You’re changing the subject.”

He chuckled and ate more while I waited. Finally, after I dearly wanted to shout at him, he set the bowl down on a side table. “I think the young are so … dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” I stared. “I killed—”

“Yes, yes. You’re a young woman in a difficult situation, forced into making difficult choices, with extraordinary pressure on your shoulders, and an even more extraordinary weapon at your disposal—yourself. Is a demon necessary to explain why you might have lost control? Even if your perceived experience is older than your age, your body is still transitioning from child to adult. It’s not a mystery as to why you might be having a hard time.” He folded his hands over his lap. “I’m much more concerned about this business with the Baron of Barsine. What were you thinking?”

I gaped. That hadn’t even been on the list of things I had expected him to scold me over.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

The old priest sighed. “These aren’t my people, but I know enough about Joratese ways to understand the ramifications.”

I narrowed my eyes. “The ramifications? I stopped a Hellmarch, Father Zajhera. Remember how the last one went, when I was a child? They were creating a demon prince from the souls sacrificed to Kasmodeus. They were going to open up Jorat like a rotted plum.”

“Yes, and you Censured the baron, installed your own man as the new ruler—”

“I didn’t Censure anyone, and Kalazan isn’t my man—”