“And what about the prophecy?” Count Janel asked. “The demon-claimed child?”

“Nobody said nothing about no prophecy,” Dorna admitted. “Demons, though? Word is the local farms harbored demon cults, so the baron stopped all that when he inherited the title. That’s why so much land has been declared forest.”

“Um, forest?” Qown asked. “There’s a huge forest in Kirpis, but it doesn’t convey any magical protection from demon cults.”

“In Jorat, a forest is off limits,” Janel explained, “so it gives the local baron permission to go in and drive off anyone living inside. And yes, that might include any so-called demon cults. Unfortunately, it absolutely will include everyone else as well. No one may live or hunt there. Anyone who does declares themselves saelen, to be arrested on sight.”

“Off limits to all but nobles, you mean.” Dorna shrugged. “Anyhow, whole villages and towns have been cleared out and burned for this reason.”

“Demon cults here?” Janel said. “Where does he think this is, Marakor?”

Brother Qown fought against the impulse to suggest many worthy Marakori had nothing to do with demon cults.

Dorna held up her hands. “I’m just repeating what I overheard. The old baron died in winter. Ever since, the new baron has been tearing up the land trying to put down the witches he insists are attacking his people.” She paused. “Don’t take much, I hear, to be accused of being a witch. And this baron is a firm believer in using fire to deal with witches.”

“What? That’s barbaric.” Brother Qown couldn’t help himself. “Besides, witches aren’t vulnerable to fire.”

“No more so than any person is vulnerable to fire,” Count Janel agreed, “but Tamin isn’t wrong. Someone in Barsine is a witch and is summoning demons.”

“You think there are witches?”

“Yes. And I will find and destroy them.” Her tone left little room for argument.

Count Janel left the bowl and began to walk away with purposeful strides. Dorna and Brother Qown shared a look before they followed, with Dorna darting back a moment later to pick up the abandoned bowl.

“Where are we going?” Brother Qown asked when he caught up.

“The dungeons. I need to speak with Ninavis.”

Brother Qown assumed the dungeon would be one area where Count Janel’s title didn’t gain her automatic entry, but he was mistaken. Few people paid them any attention as they walked. Count Janel looked like a queen strolling through her kingdom, servants scrambling behind her.

However, her confidence was unnecessary: no guard stood at the entrance.

“A soldier was here yesterday,” Brother Qown said. “They’d barred the door from the outside too.”

Indeed, the heavy iron bar lay on the floor. The door appeared open a fractional degree.

Dorna moved beside the door and used her toe to nudge it farther ajar.