“It may not be a … what did you call it? A gaesh loop? But I do think it’s in response to the gaesh. He’s gone into a stupor due to what’s happened to him.” I paused. “Or he’s been possessed by a demon, but I don’t think so.”

Senera sighed. “Fine. Leave him.”

I threw her a look filled with venom.

“We don’t have time,” she explained. “His attendance isn’t mandatory at the banquet. Yours is. We’ll deal with him later.”

I hopped up on the bed and put my arm around Brother Qown. “I’m not leaving him alone like this. He could snap out of it and hurt himself. And if someone tries to hurt him, he’s defenseless. I’m staying.”

Senera’s nostrils flared. “You’re not.”

“I am.”

Before I could do anything else, she touched Brother Qown’s forehead. His eyes closed and his chin fell to his collarbone, and he settled as dead weight in my arms. “There. He’s sleeping and won’t be a danger to anyone, himself included. I’ll lock the door when we leave. Now you can come with me on your own two feet, or I can summon guards to drag you, but either way, you’re going to the feast, now. I’ll let you choose.”

I slid my arm back out from behind Brother Qown, eased him back onto the bed, and pulled the furs up over him.

I tried to be as dignified as possible walking to the door. I had always planned to accompany her. I’d come here with a single job: find the spear Khoreval and steal it. Now I had two: find the spear Khoreval and Brother Qown’s gaesh and steal both. Doing either job would require being treated like something other than a prisoner. I had to convince Relos Var that he’d turned me to his cause. But I had to sell it. I had to make it believable.

Nobody values the prize they win without an effort.

So we left Brother Qown to sleep, and Senera locked the door behind us.

No guards stood in the halls, no soldiers hovered over us. There was no need.

The building’s décor looked like nothing I’d seen before; all perfect black rock and geometric crystal insets and sparkling silver lines. Everything felt clean and crisp and cold, conjuring up an impression of endless glaciers and frozen icicles.

“How old is this palace?”

“Older than the empire,” Senera admitted. “Built by the god-king Cherthog and the god-queen Suless.”

“I’m surprised it survived the Quuros invasion.”

“Technically, it didn’t. They rebuilt it.”

I didn’t even pretend not to be impressed. This construction rivaled Atrine, and Kandor himself had built that.

We climbed stairs, and I decided my earlier assessment of this palace’s beauty and complexity had been premature.