Kihrin moved his hand from the dagger. If she were a ruse, at least he had the small advantage of recognizing her nature. Only three entities in the universe knew what his dream girl looked like: his best friend, Teraeth; the demon Xaltorath; and the mimic Talon. Teraeth would never do something like this, but the other two? Neither of them was a friend.

But the priest struck him as an odd accompaniment to a demonic seduction. Why would Xaltorath or Talon have brought a chaperone?

Kihrin pulled a chair over and sat down.

The Joratese woman returned to her seat. “That didn’t go the way I’d hoped at all. We don’t have time for this.”

“I told you he wouldn’t remember,” the priest said. “Most never do.”

“You were introducing yourselves?” Kihrin pressed. “Let’s start there.”

“Yes,” the woman said. “Of course.” She placed a pitch-black hand on her chest.

Kihrin blinked. He hadn’t imagined it. She wasn’t wearing gloves; the color of her hands and face didn’t match.

“I’m Janel Theranon. This is my dearest friend Qown, formerly—” She turned to Qown. “Is it formerly?”

The man grimaced. “My status is uncertain.” To Kihrin, he said, “I’m Brother Qown, a votary of the Vishai Mysteries. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Kihrin said, but his stare remained locked on Janel.

Janel. He felt like an idiot. She had a name. Of course she did. In all the years since Xaltorath had forced her image into his mind, he’d never wondered what her name might be. Janel could even be a common name. Maybe Janels in Jorat were like Tishars in the Capital. Something meaning pretty or blessed or—in this dominion—something to do with horses.

“Janel,” he said. “Why wouldn’t I remember you if we’ve met?”

She lowered her voice. “Because you were dead.”

He glanced around. People had stopped paying any attention after Janel had vouched for him. “I’d appreciate a little more detail.”

Kihrin’s friend Teraeth had a free visitor’s pass to and from the Afterlife, thanks to his mother, who just happened to be Thaena, Goddess of Death. And Thaena often brought others back to life—himself, for example, just two days before. The idea he’d been dead when they met was possible.

Unnerving, but possible.

“Very well,” Janel said. “I have the ability to travel between the Living World and the Afterlife. I was in the latter when you were sacrificed to Xaltorath, two days ago. I helped you fight your way past the demons hunting you, so you could Return to the Living World.”

His mouth dried. “And how did you know I’d be … here?”

The priest, Qown, turned to her. “Janel, I don’t think—”