If Xivan ever came down and found that boulder, she’d never need to execute another Yoran prisoner in order to feed. The boulder contained enough tenyé to power spellcasting of such strength … well …

Who had created it? Relos Var? Perhaps. Certainly, the presence of the sigil carved deeply into its side suggested Senera’s involvement and, in turn, Var’s. And as for the sigil itself?

Brother Qown had told me the sigil on my back hadn’t just been suppressing my strength but had been siphoning off tenyé to another location. I had a good idea where that tenyé had been going. Three years’ worth, stored up right there before me.

My tenyé.

“Actually, mine.”

I whirled around in the room and saw my mother, Tya, standing before me.

I didn’t even jump.

“What are you doing here?” I asked her as she walked past me, over to the spear.

“Breaking the rules,” she said, sitting down on the dais. “But as a wise man once said to me: fuck the rules. Is that human skin?”

I looked down at what I held. “Yes, but it’s all right; it’s my skin.”

She narrowed her eyes. “That’s not as reassuring as you may have intended. You don’t seem injured.”

“Qown healed me.” I took a deep breath, not wanting to talk to Tya at all. Not wanting her here, even though logically she could be very helpful. “How could Relos Var pull tenyé from you?” I shook my skin. “This wasn’t your back.”

She winced at my demonstration, which had splattered gore onto my armor. “Relos knew I wouldn’t let him kill you. Which would have happened, if I hadn’t lent you enough power to withstand that glyph. So for the last few years, he’s been draining the tenyé I’ve been feeding you and storing it away for a rainy day.”

“So you made the same mistake twice?”

“It wasn’t a mistake,” she insisted.

I scoffed. “You’re giving our enemies succor and aid! Xaltorath exploited me to gain favors from you, and now you’re letting Relos Var do the same thing. Why?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I just explained this.”

“No!” I almost pulled the helmet from my head in protest, torn between the certainty she’d protect me from the razarras metal and the overwhelming desire not to rely on her protection. “Horseshit. I’m not worth you giving in to Relos Var or to Xaltorath. I’m not worth letting them win! Why do you people keep using me as the excuse to lose?”

I wanted her angry. Oh, angry would have felt nice. Instead, she looked sad. “But you are. Janel, I love you.”

“No! You don’t even know me. You don’t know anything about me. How can you love me? I don’t even love me!”