“What’s going on?” Ninavis tried to stand, then teetered and sat back down again. “What are they planning to do with my people?”

“Wait,” Brother Qown said. “Count, you’re upset. But please explain what’s going on.”

The Count of Tolamer crossed over to where a pewter goblet and pitcher rested on the sideboard. Her hand trembled as she poured water into the cup, before draining it dry and tossing it to the side.

She hadn’t been as careful as normal. She discarded a crushed finger-dented mass of metal.

Janel pulled her fingers through her laevos. “So before we left Tolamer Canton, when my grandfather still lived, he kept the services of a House D’Aramarin Gatekeeper named Kovinglass. Kazivarian man. I didn’t like him, but I never thought him disloyal. At least, I didn’t think that before my grandfather’s death. When I began to look through my grandfather’s papers, I changed my mind. I don’t know if my grandfather paid Kovinglass too little or if Kovinglass had suffered some slight never forgotten. As my grandfather sickened, Kovinglass recommended poor decision after decision, which mired our house further in debt.”

“Not all thieves use swords,” Brother Qown said. “Some are more successful with brushes and ink.”

The count nodded in bitter agreement. “So it seems.”

Ninavis scowled. “What does this have to do with Tamin? With my people?”

“Because of my experience with Kovinglass’s betrayal,” Count Janel explained, “I wanted to believe Baron Barsine had been misled as well. He seemed to be spinning a story about Kalazan’s dead father—and his father’s attempt at an assassination and coup. Even if Tamin had overreacted to his father’s murder, Tamin himself might have been exploited by men like Captain Dedreugh—and perhaps this Relos Var person.”

“Who?”

“Relos Var. A foreigner. Tamin’s teacher. After all, I’ve known Tamin for years. I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“Of course you did. You nobles stick up for each other, don’t you?” Ninavis rolled her eyes. “Always covering up each other’s shit.”

“Shut it, you,” Dorna said. “You don’t talk to my count that way!”

“No, Dorna. She’s earned the right to scold.” Janel sat down. She looked bereft.

“Count,” Brother Qown said, “what happened?”

“The baron doesn’t realize it, but he’s the one summoning the demons,” she explained. “He thinks he’s killing witches. But he’s claiming innocent people are witches, having them executed, and then dedicating those deaths to a demon named Kasmodeus. There is a witch problem in Barsine—and Tamin is the witch.”

“You have to kill him,” Ninavis said. “You have to kill the baron. There will never be a better opportunity. You’re the only one who can get past his soldiers and do it.”