My companions all wore bemused expressions, because I hadn’t told them about my conversation with Thaena. They all thought I wanted to speak to Mithros about Ninavis, to gain a new place for us to stay—so why wouldn’t I be willing to talk about it publicly?

I ignored the questions I saw in their faces and followed Mithros down the stairs.

The darkness didn’t last long; he called up mage-lights to brighten our path. The stairs disgorged us onto a porch, lined with carved stone railings to keep people from going over the side. Rushing water sounded louder now, the air filled with fine, cold mist. The space felt homely; someone had set up bamboo mats and chairs and strung lights. A Zaibur board sat on a carved wooden table, pieces aligned on each side.

“How close are we to the falls?”

He gestured into the darkness. “Still another mile farther up. We wouldn’t be able to hear each other talk if we sat closer. Would you like something to drink?”

“No, I—” I looked around. I didn’t see any drinks to offer but stopped myself from asking. He may not have been a god, but I assumed he was a sorcerer.

I realized we had nothing in our legends to deal with vané magic. The Blood of Joras label didn’t apply, but they could hardly be called tainted by Marakori blood either.

“I’m here because a mutual friend recommended you to me.”

He sat down behind the Zaibur board and picked up the two starting stones, one wood and the other metal. “No one can hear us, so you might as well say what you mean. Thaena sent you to me because she wants something done, can’t figure out how to do it herself, and thus wants me to solve the problem. Do you know how to play?” He held a stone in each hand before putting his hands behind his back.

“My grandfather taught me,” I admitted. When he showed his hands, each clenched into a fist, I tapped the one on the left. “As for Thaena, I can’t speak to the motives of gods.”

He opened his hands. I’d picked the wooden token, which meant he went first. A lucky break for him. “I’ve known her a long time.” His tone implied he wasn’t a fan.

“Is Teraeth your son?” The question flew out of my mouth before I could stop it.

He blinked at me, mouth open. He abandoned whatever he’d been about to say. “You’ve met Teraeth?” He turned the board athwart so we’d be playing along the long edge.