“What about them? I’ll keep them safe for you.” Ninavis’s grin bordered on nasty as she lowered the rolled-up page in her hand to the brazier. “Except for the Theranon debts, of course. It’s so kind of you to forgive those. Really, I’m touched.”

Janel snapped her fingers again, and the Markreev’s gaze focused on her immediately. “Do we have an understanding, Aroth?”

He met her eyes, which flickered pale blue again, then he shuddered. “Yes,” Aroth whispered. “Yes, we do. My … my lord.”

Janel smiled. “Good.”

Aroth shook himself.

“Well, you two should find Dorna and start planning how you want to approach the other Markreevs with the happy news about their new duke. I have other things to check on.” Janel bowed to them both and left to see who else had survived.

63: RESCUES

Atrine, Jorat Dominion, Quuros Empire. Three days since Teraeth retained his gift for diplomacy

When Kihrin woke, he found himself lying on a cot set up inside an army tent. He left before anyone had a ch63ance to decide what should be done with him, one way or another.

Outside, a continuous rumble filled the air; the vast, deep sound reminding him of the sea maelstrom called the Maw. Nearby, soldiers busied themselves setting up or tearing down the military camp. No one seemed eager to pay any attention to him.

He rubbed his head, but whoever had pulled him from the water had healed the injury. Kihrin’s hand fell to his belt. No Urthaenriel either, and he couldn’t hear her singing from nearby.

Kihrin’s gut clenched.

Kihrin saw Thurvishar pacing near Lake Jorat’s shoreline, looking pensive and miserable as he gazed at Atrine’s burning, wrecked remains. Standing next to Thurvishar …

Kihrin’s breath caught as he saw the Manol vané turn to profile. Then he realized it wasn’t Teraeth. The eyes were wrong, the nose was wrong, everything was wrong. Kihrin released his breath, fighting back disappointment. He’d bet metal this was Teraeth’s grandfather Mithros—and clearly the camp’s soldiers didn’t realize the vané was also the God of Destruction, Khored. He had to wonder how the Quuros army—many of whom worshipped Khored—would react to finding out their favorite deity was in fact a Manol vané.

A nearby tent flap opened, and Janel walked outside.

She noticed him right away and smiled. An instant later, Janel was in his arms, kissing him. Which almost made everything better. Or at least made everything a lot easier to forget.

Someone cleared their throat.

Kihrin looked up to see a Manol vané standing next to Tyentso—this time, the right Manol vané. Kihrin pulled away from Janel.

“Teraeth,” Kihrin said. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

The assassin’s green eyes flicked to Janel and then back to Kihrin. “Obviously.”

Kihrin wanted to kick himself. “Look, I’m glad to see you.”