“Havar D’Aramarin, right?” Tyentso said, eyes narrowed. “Just curious: Which part of that did you find preposterous?”

“I am High Lord Havar D’Aramarin,” he corrected. “And the idea that this woman could open a freestanding portal beggars all belief. She’s clearly lying and you’re too naïve to realize it.” He scowled. “As for you, don’t expect anyone to consider you the legitimate emperor, when you didn’t even win the right in the arena.”

The high general gave Tyentso a warning look. “Don’t.”

Tyentso smiled. “Right now, I don’t give a fuck who thinks I’m the legitimate emperor. I care about saving what’s left of Atrine and its population. So unless you’re here to help us, why don’t you go check on your Gatekeepers?”

The high lord started to say something else, but Qoran Milligreest stepped up next to Tyentso and gave the high lord a look. The wizard turned on his heel and strode away.

“That one’s going to cause trouble later,” Senera murmured. “There’s no way he won’t try to have us arrested as witches when this is over.”

Milligreest said, “You should be arrested—as a terrorist and a traitor.”

Senera smiled. “It’s nice to know my work is appreciated.”

“Worry about it later,” Janel said. “In the meantime, we’re missing an important piece of information: Where is Morios’s Cornerstone?”

“Oh,” Senera said as if she’d forgotten an insignificant detail. “In the god-king Khorsal’s throne room, under a thousand feet of water, at the bottom of Lake Jorat.”

57: MEMORIES OF HORSES

Atrine, Jorat Dominion, Quuros Empire. Three days since Kihrin first learned about Aeyan’arric

Janel stared at Senera. “Khorsal’s palace? But Emperor Kandor destroyed that.”

“No, just submerged it underwater when Kandor dammed the Endless Canyon,” Kihrin said. “There’s no reason the palace wouldn’t still be down there.” When Tyentso blinked at him, he said, “Teraeth told us about it, remember?”

Janel drummed her fingers against the table. “Anything else we need to know?”

Senera picked up someone’s writing quill from the table and dabbed it in ink. “Yes. Thurvishar and Kihrin need sigils to let them breathe and survive the pressure.” She paused to give Kihrin a thoughtful stare.

“They’ll work on me as long as I have Urthaenriel sheathed when you draw them,” he replied.

“Good.”

“I’ll need sigils too.” Qown stepped forward. “I’m going with them.”

Janel blinked. “You are?”

“Someone besides Thurvishar should hold Senera’s signal branch. Thurvishar’s going to be concentrating on magic portals and fighting off any hostile forces we find.” Qown gestured at Kihrin. “And I don’t know if the twig will even work if Kihrin holds it. Urthaenriel might block the effect.”

Kihrin grimaced. “That’s … possible.”

Janel hesitated and then nodded. “All right. You three will smash the Cornerstone. The rest of us will fight Morios.”