With nothing else to occupy his hours he set about the task grimly, pausing each day only to eat a little fish, to use the crude latrine carved into the stone a few doors down, to sleep in brief stretches. There was no way to tell time in the sunless, starless dark of the Heart. He pushed himself until sleep claimed him where he sat, slept as long as his body allowed, and then when he woke to sharp stone against his cheek, or a pressure in his bladder, or the unremitting chill of the place, he would rise, blink away the exhaustion, square himself once more in the center of his cell, and close his eyes. It was a grim study, but it gave a shape to his shapeless days, and after a time he found he could slide in and out of the emptiness almost at will.

At least while motionless. With his eyes closed.

When he’d mastered that, he set about entering the trance with his eyes open. It was far more difficult, as though the world itself blocked him from the blankness, but he kept doggedly at it, determined to wrest some value from the long, dark days. He was in the middle of just such an effort, staring at the flame of his lone candle, willing away his self, when Tan pulled open the heavy wooden door, stepping into the space before Kaden could register surprise or alarm.

The older monk took in the scene at a glance, then nodded. “The emptiness comes more easily now.”

It was not a question, but Kaden nodded, grinding away his confusion, surprise, and irritation at Tan’s unexpected arrival.

“You should be able to reach it running,” the monk said. “Fighting.”

“I’m still working on just keeping my eyes open.”

Tan shook his head. “Not anymore. Not now. Come with me.”

Kaden stared. “Where are we going? Where have you been?”

“With the Ishien. Trying to learn something about the girl.”

“While I’ve been a prisoner.”

“I warned you that we took a risk in coming here.”

“We?” Kaden asked. “It looks like you have the run of the place.”

“Does it?” Tan asked, fixing him with a stare. “Is that what you have decided after observing me so closely?”

“You’re not locked in a cell.”

“Neither are you,” Tan said, turning to the door behind them, pulling it firmly shut. When he turned back to Kaden, he lowered his voice. “The Ishien distrust me for leaving, and they distrust me for returning. My position here is almost as tenuous as yours. Any support I offer you will weigh against me in their scales.”

He fell silent, but the rest was clear: Tan was the only link between Kaden and the outside world. If the Ishien turned on the older monk, really turned on him, they were all finished.