Mithros snorted. “It’s not just a temple to one of the Eight; it’s a temple to Khored.” Mithros flashed Janel a smile. “Don’t worry. I have permission to lurk about as much as I like.”

Brother Qown felt a chill he couldn’t quite explain.

They all followed the man into the God of Destruction’s temple.

24: THE BLACK KNIGHT

Jorat Dominion, Quuros Empire. Three days since property values in the harbor district of the Capital City dropped precipitously

“Mithros,” Kihrin said. “Huh.” Then he grinned at Ninavis. “Did you take him up on his proposal?”

“No!” Ninavis said. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not a brood mare who’s going to spit out children for some ageless vané who likes to slum with mortals. Me? Married? I’m not doing that again.” She leaned an elbow on the counter and grinned. “I mean, sure, I did have sex with him. I’m not stupid.”

Kihrin stifled a laugh. “Oh no, I never thought you were.”

Ninavis pursed her lips, her gaze far off for moment. “Oh yes. I recommend that, by the way. Find yourself a vané. Apparently, when you’re a couple of thousand years old, you learn some stuff.”

“If only he were female,” Dorna said.

Janel started laughing. She laughed so hard she put her head down on the table.

“It’s not that funny,” Ninavis protested.

Janel raised her head, still grinning. “Oh, Nina, you have no idea.”

Janel’s Turn. The Green, Barsine Banner, Jorat, Quur.

I found it difficult to keep my expression placid. I hadn’t taken Dorna’s boast about knowing Captain Mithros seriously. Captain Mithros must have known my mother, Frena, who had started in tournaments under Dorna’s tutelage. My parents had met during the tournaments.

Captain Mithros posed a different problem. His resemblance to Death’s green-eyed son Teraeth seemed too close to be coincidence. They clearly weren’t the same person, but the similarity … Unlike Teraeth, Mithros favored broad grins and flirty winks. Yet when he waved a hand or rested his wrist against sword pommel the resemblance to Teraeth’s lethal elegance shone. I felt a further familiarity too, as though Mithros reminded me of someone else besides.

Since I only knew one other Manol vané, I found the feeling disconcerting.

“Hells and ice. Keep your hood up.” Dorna tugged the replacement cloak’s hood farther over my eyes.

I blinked at her but ducked down my head.

No sooner had I done so than I saw red and gold. Looking from the corner of my eye, I saw an honor guard dressed in the Stavira March’s colors.

The Markreev of Stavira’s colors. My liege lord Aroth Malkoessian’s colors.

Everyone in Atrine stopped by Khored’s Temple at some point to pay their respects and pray for good favor in the tournament. The temple always echoed with the susurrus of worshippers.