Janel wasn’t the only person who’d noticed the dragon’s reluctance to demolish Khored’s cathedral either. As soon as Janel ran inside, she found Ninavis, along with Dorna, Star, and most of Ninavis’s people. Vidan looked like he’d taken some sort of head wound, while Kay Hará and Jem Nakijan both sported some ugly-looking injuries that Dorna was in the process of treating.

Talaras tossed his head back in greeting as Sir Baramon rose from where he’d been seated on the cold stone floor. “Count!”

Janel looked around. The inside of the temple was packed, but she shuddered to think that this might be the largest group of survivors.

“Oh, I’m so happy to see all of you,” she said, “but I can’t stay. Does anyone know if there are stairs to reach the upper levels?”

“Through those doors, foal,” Dorna said. “And it’s not quite as bad as it looks. We’ve stashed quite a few people down in the caves.”

Janel grinned as she ran. “Good!”

She climbed the stairs to the upper levels of the temple. When Janel had reached the highest point she could find, without scaling the outside of the building, she began shouting for Tyentso.

Morios was now exchanging blows with Khored, but Janel saw no sign of the Quuros emperor.

“Tyentso!”

A portal appeared next to Janel, and Tyentso stepped through. “Did you know, a week ago, I couldn’t open a gate at all? This crown is amazing.”

Janel laughed. The situation was horrible, the odds grim, and she was laughing.

“Tyentso, could you help me trick Morios into swallowing me whole?”

The emperor stared at her.

Janel tilted her head.

“You’re serious?”

“I think I’ve figured out how to kill him.” Janel grimaced. “At least, how to kill him temporarily. If I’m right, I will have bought two days for you and the Academy wizards to devise some solution, melt him down, transport his body out to sea … something.” Janel paused. “And if I’m wrong, the worst that happens is that I die.”

“Right. Because that’s the worst that could happen.” Tyentso shook her head. “It’s your funeral, kid, but sure, I think I can help you out.”

“Did Morios even hurt you?” Kihrin scowled at the wizard.

Relos Var laughed. “Morios doesn’t believe in ‘pretending’ to hurt someone. The injuries were real. Quite painful.”

“Good.”

“Don’t feel bad; I spent centuries setting up all the pieces to this con. Quite a few very smart people fell for it.”

With his free hand, Kihrin gestured over his shoulder, back toward the throne. “And I assume that wasn’t Morios’s Cornerstone?”