The young woman opened her eyes. She was dressed in a robe like Auriana’s, gray instead of black, and had the dark hair and gray skin of a Khandarai. Marcus recognized her, vaguely, from a hurried introduction before they’d all taken ship. He gave an awkward nod and dredged up his rusty Khandarai.

“It’s Feor, right?”

She got smoothly to her feet, speaking in good, if accented Vordanai. “It is. It’s good to see you, Colonel d’Ivoire.” Feor gestured to Auriana. “I will speak to the colonel alone, Auri.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Auriana sat where Feor had been, with some difficulty from her stiff leg. Feor took Marcus’ arm and led him back through the curtain.

“Your Vordanai has gotten a lot better,” Marcus said. She’d been able to manage only a few halting words the last time they spoke.

“Out of necessity,” Feor said. “I have had a great deal of practice.”

“Who are those two?” Marcus indicated the curtain. “If I’m allowed to be in on the secret.”

“Janus told me I could tell you whatever you asked,” Feor said. “Though I am not to bother you unnecessarily. Auri and Justin are my students. There are three others as well, though they are not here at the moment.”

“Ah.” Marcus shifted awkwardly. “You’re teaching them . . . magic?”

Feor gave a wan smile. “I am teaching them what I can. Mother knew a hundred times what I know, but she is not here, and our need is great. We must unlock the power of the Thousand Names if we are to defeat the abh-naathem.”

Marcus could parse that, after a fashion. Naathem was the Khandarai name for someone who could use magic, a sorcerer; it literally meant “one who has read.” Abh was false, deviant, deformed, disgusting.

“People like Jen, you mean. The woman we fought in the temple.” An agent of the Priests of the Black. She’d called herself one of the Penitent Damned.

Feor nodded. “They know that we have the Names. They will try to destroy us. I believe that the gods have set us against them, as a trial of strength.”

“So you’re training them to be wizards?” The idea seemed ridiculous, something out of a fairy story.

“I am training them to read a naath from the Names. They must learn the characters, but more important, they must prepare their spirits. Reading a naath is a trial that few escape unscathed.”

“Is that what happened to Auriana? She seems . . .”

“Yes. She was fortunate. Others have . . . not been so lucky.”

There was something deep and haunted in Feor’s eyes. Marcus coughed, nervously, feeling as though he were standing at the edge of a vast abyss.

“I got a message,” he said after a moment. “There was something you needed to tell me.”