“Oh, right. Yes, please,” Kihrin said.

Qown’s Turn. The Ice Demesne, Yor, Quur.

When Brother Qown woke up the next morning, he found he had gone to sleep still sitting at the library table, drooling onto his hand. He rubbed his eyes and blinked several times, then remembered what he’d spent the previous night doing. His rumbling stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours.

Qown was beginning to see how someone might kill themselves using that artifact.

“You’ve been hard at work,” a deep voice said.

Brother Qown blinked and looked over to see a tall, broad-shouldered man searching the book stacks. The dark-skinned, bald man dressed in a pure deep black that failed to match the darkness of his eyes.

“You’re a D’Lorus royal,” Brother Qown said, quite without thinking.

“And you’re a Vishai priest. If we can track down a morgage and a fancy bar, we’ll have the beginnings of a joke.” He tilted his head. “I’m Thurvishar. I don’t think you should leave that just sitting around, although I hear they’re hard to steal.”

Brother Qown blinked and realized Worldhearth sat openly on the table, a few breaths away from his fingers. He snatched up the rock and told himself he needed to find some better way of carrying it. A necklace like Senera had, perhaps.

“Do you, uh…” Brother Qown cleared his throat. “You don’t know where I might be able to find some food, do you?”

“I’ll assume by food you mean something a priest of Vishai from Eamithon might find palatable, which won’t be anything here in Yor.”

“I can cook. I’d be happy to make my own food if I just had the ingredients…”

“You’ll also find those hard to gather. But follow me. I happen to know the location of a seldom-used kitchen.” He paused. “Don’t worry about your gaesh. This isn’t an escape attempt. I’ll make sure Relos Var knows where you’re going.”

“Oh good.” Then Brother Qown paused. “Where are we going?”

“Shadrag Gor.”

It didn’t occur to Brother Qown until he’d almost finished baking a batch of sag bread and had an eggplant curry simmering away that he should have been suspicious of Thurvishar D’Lorus’s hospitality. Worse, since Thurvishar D’Lorus had remained in the room with him, the wizard seemed to recognize the very moment when Qown realized his mistake.

“No one would call you paranoid,” Thurvishar commented. “Honestly, it’s a bit refreshing.”

“Oh, I didn’t … I mean…”

“No nefarious tricks,” Thurvishar promised. “On occasion, I like talking to people whose primary interests don’t include new and interesting ways to conquer the world.”

Brother Qown chuckled. “I thought you might be trying to … I don’t know. I mean, your family does have a certain reputation.”