“Where did you get this?” Abelard leaned in close.

“I bought it in the clan markets. Secondhand,” Han said.

“I thought it might be a custom piece,” the dean said. “One with…extra capabilities, since you’re so friendly with the copperheads. That would explain a lot.”

“You think I could afford a custom piece?” Han said. “Friends is friends until it comes to a trade. That’s how it works in the markets.”

“Not many charmcasters would choose a piece of this design,” Abelard said. She paused. “Do you know who else carried an amulet like this?”

“I got no idea,” Han lied. He felt weary and besieged, stripped of his usual charm.

“It’s a reproduction of the amulet carried by the Demon King,” she said.

Han produced a look of surprise. “Huh. Maybe that’s why it went so cheap.”

“Do you have a special interest in dark magic, Alister? Is that it?” Her voice was velvety soft.

“I want to learn about all kinds of magic,” Han said. “That’s why I’m here.”

“There are those who will make assumptions about you based on that amulet, Alister,” she said. “People who believe that all pathways should be open to those who seek knowledge. Those that believe that the end justifies the means.”

Abelard stood abruptly so that now she was towering over him, a black silhouette against the light from the windows. She bent and reached her hands down to help him up and settle him down into a chair. She was surprisingly strong.

“Call in his partner,” she murmured to Gryphon.

Gryphon called, “Newling Hayden!”

When Dancer came back in from the corridor, Abelard said, “Hayden, Alister and I have been talking about his experiences in Aediion. What do you remember?”

Dancer’s eyes flicked from Han to Abelard, as if he suspected he was walking into a trap. Han tried to send him a message with his eyes.

“Well,” Dancer said, “I don’t remember much.”

“Blood and bones of the Demon King!” Abelard exploded. “Just tell me what you do remember.” When Dancer glanced at Han again, Abelard gripped Dancer’s chin and wrenched his head around. “Look at me, newling.”

Dancer fingered his amulet as if for reassurance. “Beforehand, we agreed to meet back home, in a place we know on Hanalea. So we—”

“What would you know about Hanalea?” Abelard interrupted. “It is forbidden for wizards to go there.”

“I was born on Hanalea,” Dancer said calmly.

“You’re Spirit clan, aren’t you?” Abelard said as if she hadn’t been talking behind his back. “I’ve never seen any gifted come out of the camps before.”

“I’m mixed-blood,” Dancer said, without elaborating. “So after I spoke the charm, I saw Han walking toward me. He was kind of flickering, like someone you see by firelight, and his clothes kept changing.” He paused. “I guess I must have been dreaming.”

“And…?” Abelard prompted. “Then what happened?”