After the dream-Ulek, real Ulek had lost all its creepiness. Now it just felt sad, lonely. Whatever magic lingered, they seemed to have earned some immunity from it.

Now this was simply this place that had been Varajas’s home. He knew his way around without even having to think. Everyone seemed deep in thought, disinclined to talk. That was fine. They would talk, but not till they were settled.

They drew water from the castle well. Everyone had a drink, and Varajas filled a pitcher to bring with them. In the dry stores, there was still one sealed case with salted meat and flatbread that wasn’t too stale. Samir even found a bag of dried fruit that the rodents hadn’t found their way into. It was practically a feast.

Food and water in hand, Varajas led them all to the royal wing. To King Kolyn’s suite. The man was dead. He wouldn’t mind sharing his space. The rooms were spacious, would be comfortable, and most of all, the only windows faced away from the side of the mountain where people were camped, so no one would see any light peeking out.

Some dutiful person had laid a fire in the hearth of Kolyn’s sitting room, a tiny sign of hope that King Kolyn might return. That would have been before Kolyn was executed. At any rate, it meant it took nothing more than a passing wave from Samir and they had light and warmth.

Ruan was poking around—driven, perhaps, by his endless curiosity. It was also possible he was still looking for evidence of horrible misdeeds. Either way, it led to his discovery of the cabinet where Kolyn had stashed a few bottles of good wine. He popped one open, filled three of the glasses that had been stored in the adjacent drawer, and passed them around. Varajas drank his in a gulp, then held out the glass for a refill.

As Ruan poured, his eyes found Varajas’s. They seemed full of delicate hope and desperate longing. Or maybe that was just what Varajas wanted to see, the echo of his own feelings.

All of this had transpired in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but for Varajas, at least, it was sorely needed. Not just the silence, but the knowledge that his mind was his own again. That there would be no more sudden journeys into anyone else’s head, and no more sharing space in his own.

But it couldn’t last forever.

Samir had pulled a chair over in front of the fire. He was staring into the flame, sipping at his wine, while Ruan continued opening drawers and cabinets. Varajas simply stood leaning against a wall and watching them both.

“Girald knows I’m here,” Samir finally said. “He saw me—he saw us—and when Peyter doesn’t come back, it’s not going to take him long to come to the correct conclusion about what happened. I expect he’s not going to be happy about it.”

“Did he know about Sidaine? That you were the one who killed her?”

Samir leaned his head back and forth, in a yes-and-no gesture. “He suspected. He had no proof. And to make an issue of it would have led to questions I don’t think he wanted asked.”

“When you killed Sidaine you were still a wizard of the Star,” Ruan put in from across the room. “Now that you’re Wing, if he want’s to make an accusation against you, he’ll have to bring Archwizard Sheluna into it.”

“Assuming any action he takes is above-board,” Varajas pointed out. “Which we have no reason to believe it will be.”

“No, it won’t be. He can’t afford an official investigation. He can’t afford for anyone to ask me questions about why I was here getting in a fight with Peyter. Any more than he could afford questions about why I had to kill Sidaine.”

Samir sounded remarkably calm, considering, “What you’re saying is, you’re going to have an Archwizard looking for a way to secretly assassinate you.”

“Not just me.” Now Samir looked up and over at Varajas. “He saw you. He’s going to be looking for you. If I understand things the way I think I do, you can’t afford that. Your secret can’t afford that.”

Varajas wasn’t sure his secret could afford the people in this room knowing about it, but that was a different conversation. “It sounds a little like you’re working your way up to suggestion we try to preemptively kill an Archwizard.”

Samir’s dark eyes searched Varajas’s face. “Want to tell me what happened to Archwizard Loukanos?”

Which got Ruan’s sharp attention. “Yes. What did happen to him?”

At this point, it just seemed petty to keep any more secrets. The cats that mattered were well and truly out of their bags. “He found out about the knife. He came to try to take its power. He found me. He tortured me, trying to get the information. Korin and Ádan together stopped him. And then Ádan killed him.”

Samir nodded, as though this were only what he had expected. Varajas braced for the burst of outrage from Ruan.

It didn’t come. Instead, Ruan just sounded tired. “That’s the sort of thing we’re supposed to keep from happening. That’s—if the Brotherhood were doing our jobs—”

“Do you believe what Peyter said?” Varajas knew his own answer to the question, but he also knew it would do no good to say so if Ruan hadn’t come to the same conclusion all on his own. “Do you believe Donatien is working with Girald?”

Ruan didn’t answer, but that was, itself, an answer. There was no denial. No defense of Donatien. It was as good as a yes.

“The question I’m asking,” Samir said, “is Donatien also looking for the knife? Was that what drove his whole obsession with the war? Is he also after that power?”

“Is there anyone in the fucking world who isn’t?” Varajas allowed the frustration in his voice. It covered up the fear.

And then Ruan had to go and make it worse. “Why are you here, Samir? Why did Sheluna send you to Ulek?”

“Not to look for the knife, if you’re willing to believe me.”

Varajas wanted to believe, but it was hard. Even after everything they’d shared. “Are you telling me Sheluna isn’t out for power?”

“No. Much as I love her, I’m not going to try to tell you she isn’t ambitious. What I will say is her quest for power isn’t the same as Girald’s. Or I wouldn’t have ever agreed to be her apprentice.”

Accepting that as truth required not just trusting Samir, but trusting he would recognize the woman who saved his life wasn’t deceiving him.

On the other hand, sinking so deeply into paranoia that he wasn’t capable of trusting anyone with anything would be just as dangerous to Varajas as blind trust. And trusting Samir right now was anything but blind.

Really, Varajas had already made his decisions about trust. “Just so you know, so you both know, I’m not going to—I’m not the man who could kill you to protect this secret. If Derian wanted that, he chose the wrong guy.”