For a moment, no one moved. Shock had scrubbed the smirk from Manderseen’s face, and he stared at Triste, baffled. Tan also watched the girl, though with none of the Ishien’s confusion, as did Kiel, his eyes still as pools, tied arms relaxed before him, supported by the frozen guards at his side. Triste looked from one face to the next, evidently reading the confusion and slow-gathering fury scribbled through the expressions of the Ishien.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No.”

The words seemed to jar Matol from a waking dream. He raised his broken hand, staring at it a moment as though it were some small creature broken in a trap, then turned his gaze on Triste.

“Oh yes,” he said, stepping toward her once again. The pain from his mangled hand must have been excruciating, but he ignored it, gesturing instead to Manderseen. “Oh yes, indeed. Bring me something hot, or hard, or sharp,” he barked. “Better yet, all three. I’m through lavishing this bitch in gentle caresses. It’s time to cut her deep, to see what’s really inside.”

“No,” Kaden said, surprised to hear the syllable slip from his own throat. It was madness to intervene, suicide, especially now, especially with Matol caught in the grip of this new, cold rage. And yet, he found himself stepping forward. “This isn’t working,” he said. “Your whole approach isn’t working.”

“Stand aside, Kaden,” Tan said. His voice was quiet, but the syllables were built of stone.

Kaden shook his head. “I’ve stood aside for days. Longer.” He could feel the blood racing in his veins, started to slow it, then let it run. He could kill the emotion, but he needed it now, needed his own anger if he was going to hold his ground against Matol and the rest, if he was going to do anything for Triste.

“I understand that she’s not what she seems,” he said. “I see it now. I understand that she may even be Csestriim, but this”—he gestured to the hard, bloody tools—“is not the way. It is not working.”

Matol turned from Triste to stare at him. When he spoke, his voice was barely more than a whisper. “You come here, to my fortress, into my Heart, you bring this inhuman whore into this sanctuary, and then you defend her? Hmm?”

“I’m not defending her—” Kaden began.

Matol cut him off. “You think you’re going to tell me, tell me how to fight this fight when your own family just up and quit? Is that it?”

“Enough,” Tan said.

“Oh, I quite agree,” Matol replied, still quiet, still sharp. “It is enough. It is well past enough.”

“Take him,” he said, gesturing to Kaden. “Find him a cell down below along with the other one.” A finger flicked at Kiel. “Something with a heavy door.”