Then Qown realized he’d been asked a question, and this time he did feel the pain of forced compliance kicking in. He had to answer.

“Yes,” Qown gasped out, grabbing the table’s edge.

“Oh good,” Relos Var said, smiling at the young priest. “Come have supper, and tell me all about it.”

Qown felt as if he were walking to his execution as he sat at the table and helped himself to the food. Eamithonian food. Probably made by Loma back at the monastery. Loma never used enough cardamom but still made a delicious stew.

Qown blinked and pulled himself back to the present. “I’m sorry, I didn’t … you surprised me.”

“I’m sorry. We’ve all been so busy these days.” Relos Var ate a stuffed mushroom. “You know, Loma never uses enough cardamom.”

“That’s what I’ve always said. I think he’s afraid he’s wasting it because it’s so expensive.”

Relos Var waved a piece of sag bread. “That attitude just proves he’s clinging to a false notion of material importance.” Then he paused and made a face. “Sorry, Father Zajhera would have said that.”

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t fine, and nothing would ever be fine. Qown concentrated on eating. He ate without tasting the terrific meal, only able to think about how he’d have to talk before the end of it.

“It must be bad. Look at you. You’re shaking.”

Qown pushed away his food.

“Tell me,” Relos Var said.

“Janel’s found a way to communicate with Arasgon while she sleeps. He’s then talking to other firebloods and giving them orders and information, which they pass along to human resistance groups—either by gate or by running. Janel’s been organizing rebels, interfering with your plans to undermine Duke Xun’s authority in Jorat. She’s still undermining his authority, mind you, but so it benefits her, not Duke Kaen.”

“How? The Joratese must think she’d dead.”

“Oh no. Ask your average Joratese and they’ll tell you Janel didn’t die in your duel. She ascended, or she tricked you and escaped, or Khored chose her to be his champion to save Jorat. How do you kill a legend? We’ve never been able to spy on her people passing plans, because her human followers aren’t the ones disseminating the plans. Janel’s certainly told them about Worldhearth and the Name of All Things. They know they’re being watched. But since every Joratese grows up understanding firebloods, they can relay orders openly. I haven’t figured out what they’re doing about the Marakori yet, but they must have figured something out…”

“Wait, Marakori? How are they involved?”