I felt … I felt an odd solidarity. I wasn’t Yoran, in many ways didn’t understand the Yorans either. And yet, I knew what it was like to be played as a piece in someone else’s game. In everyone’s game.

I did indeed know what that felt like.

My back felt cold, and then something wet hit the table next to me. And I couldn’t look, because I knew what I would see.

I clenched my teeth to keep from shuddering and reminded myself I’d been injured a thousand times. This was no worse than those injuries, some of which had been very bad indeed.

Then my back started to itch.

“Is that supposed to happen?”

“What? What’s happening?” Qown sounded worried.

“My back itches.”

He exhaled. “Oh. Yes, that’s normal. Just ignore it.”

“Easy for you to say. I promise you if our situations were reversed, you—”

“Shhh. I’m concentrating.”

I ground my teeth together and stayed silent.

After a few minutes, the itch became hot and painful. Just as I started to ask him about it, Qown said, “It’s going to start burning. Don’t worry, I’m just removing the numbing. I’ll do something else about the pain in a minute, but I want to check the nerves.”

I felt a sharp, flaring pain that faded into a tingling. “Did you just pinch me?”

“I haven’t given you permission to move yet. Okay, that … that looks good. Does it hurt?”

I bent forward, stretching my back. Then I twisted. “No. It doesn’t.”

“Fantastic.”

I made a fist. “Uh … something’s wrong.”

Qown looked up sharply. “What? Wait. What’s wrong? You said it doesn’t hurt…”

“Yes, I did, but I also don’t feel any stronger.” I walked over to where I’d discarded my tunic and pulled it back over me before attempting to pick up the shanathá plate. “No, this is still too heavy for me to lift.” I must have looked panicked. I felt panicked. “Qown, my strength isn’t returning.”

He looked relieved. “Is that all? I expected that.”

“What? Didn’t our plan hinge on the idea my strength would return? You expected this?”

Qown pulled over a chair and sat down. He looked exhausted. Apparently, I really was that hard to heal. The fact that he’d managed it at all by himself spoke to how his own magical skills had grown. “Janel, you must have realized by this point Xaltorath never cursed you with strength.”

I froze.

He saw my expression and sighed. “Please. Just listen. You were a small girl in horrifying circumstances. Anyone’s mage-gift—what others call a witch-gift—would manifest under such pressure. And yours did. And what you wanted, little girl you, most of all—”

“You don’t know what I wanted,” I snapped.