“Well … I…” Kihrin cleared his throat. “Glad to hear it.”
Ninavis winked at him.
“So you think Kaen’s right about Morios and the prophecy?” Kihrin asked, ignoring the previous conversation.
“I do, yes. And you and I are both twenty,” Janel said. “And since I’m the lion…”
“I’m the hawk. Because House D’Mon’s symbol is a hawk. Right.” Kihrin laughed. “And given that timing, the prophecies say Morios is about to wake up and go for a stroll.”
“I hate prophecies,” Janel said. “Have I mentioned how I truly hate prophecies?”
“Ah, and even worse when they come true,” Dorna said. “Dark times ahead for all.”
They all lapsed into a long, pregnant silence.
“I’ll just, uh…” Qown pointed down at his book.
“Oh, right. Yes, please,” Kihrin said.
Qown’s Turn. The Ice Demesne, Yor, Quur.
When Brother Qown woke up the next morning, he found he had gone to sleep still sitting at the library table, drooling onto his hand. He rubbed his eyes and blinked several times, then remembered what he’d spent the previous night doing. His rumbling stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours.
Qown was beginning to see how someone might kill themselves using that artifact.
“You’ve been hard at work,” a deep voice said.
Brother Qown blinked and looked over to see a tall, broad-shouldered man searching the book stacks. The dark-skinned, bald man dressed in a pure deep black that failed to match the darkness of his eyes.
“You’re a D’Lorus royal,” Brother Qown said, quite without thinking.
“And you’re a Vishai priest. If we can track down a morgage and a fancy bar, we’ll have the beginnings of a joke.” He tilted his head. “I’m Thurvishar. I don’t think you should leave that just sitting around, although I hear they’re hard to steal.”
Brother Qown blinked and realized Worldhearth sat openly on the table, a few breaths away from his fingers. He snatched up the rock and told himself he needed to find some better way of carrying it. A necklace like Senera had, perhaps.
“Do you, uh…” Brother Qown cleared his throat. “You don’t know where I might be able to find some food, do you?”
“I’ll assume by food you mean something a priest of Vishai from Eamithon might find palatable, which won’t be anything here in Yor.”
“I can cook. I’d be happy to make my own food if I just had the ingredients…”
“You’ll also find those hard to gather. But follow me. I happen to know the location of a seldom-used kitchen.” He paused. “Don’t worry about your gaesh. This isn’t an escape attempt. I’ll make sure Relos Var knows where you’re going.”
“Oh good.” Then Brother Qown paused. “Where are we going?”
“Shadrag Gor.”
* * *
It didn’t occur to Brother Qown until he’d almost finished baking a batch of sag bread and had an eggplant curry simmering away that he should have been suspicious of Thurvishar D’Lorus’s hospitality. Worse, since Thurvishar D’Lorus had remained in the room with him, the wizard seemed to recognize the very moment when Qown realized his mistake.
“No one would call you paranoid,” Thurvishar commented. “Honestly, it’s a bit refreshing.”
“Oh, I didn’t … I mean…”
“No nefarious tricks,” Thurvishar promised. “On occasion, I like talking to people whose primary interests don’t include new and interesting ways to conquer the world.”
Brother Qown chuckled. “I thought you might be trying to … I don’t know. I mean, your family does have a certain reputation.”
“Do we?” said a man at the doorway. “I hadn’t noticed.”
The newcomer also wore black, but his pale skin suggested a long illness, and his was a thinner build than Thurvishar’s. His black eyes still looked like holes through the world.
Something about him made Brother Qown’s skin crawl.
“Is dinner almost ready? I’m so very hungry.” The newcomer looked over Brother Qown the way a starving man looks at dessert.
“He’s Relos Var’s,” Thurvishar protested.
“Var won’t notice.”
“I rather think he would with this one.”
The other man sighed. “Yes, you’re right. One day, I’m going to have to do something about him. In the meantime, I’ll be in my study. Don’t disturb me.”
As the other man left the room, Thurvishar exhaled.
Brother Qown also felt relief steal over him, although he didn’t know what fate he’d avoided.
“I take it this isn’t quite as safe a place as you led me to believe,” Qown said at last.
“He never comes into the kitchen, usually. I thought this was the last place he’d look.” Thurvishar looked chagrined.
“Who was that?”
“Better you don’t know. Else I would have to ask Relos Var to add it to your list of subjects not to be discussed, and neither of us want that.”
The two men stared at each other for a long minute.
Brother Qown turned back to the stove. “Well, thank you for bringing me here. I’m sure the house servants back in Yor wouldn’t have let me anywhere near the kitchen stoves, and even if they did, they wouldn’t have any good vegetables.”
“Plus, there are other advantages,” Thurvishar added.
Brother Qown paused. “What do you mean?”
“We’re both educated men. You must know where we are.”
Brother Qown swallowed. “I’ve heard stories, but sometimes stories are just … stories.”
“Not here. Shadrag Gor doesn’t sit in time correctly. Something happened here. Something that damaged the way this place exists in the universe. So time moves very fast here. It suits my master, since it allows him time to do his research without interruption. You can spend months, weeks, days here, which appear to others as minutes or seconds. And if one sought a way to better study a Cornerstone, this might be a very good place to start.”
“I don’t know—” But Brother Qown paused. If time moved so quickly here, it meant his attempts to scry the outside world would be like watching still paintings. Convenient, since his largest problem had been how quickly the world proceeded at its own pace. “Huh.”
“The offer is open,” Thurvishar said. “You’d have to be in my company at all times, though. It wouldn’t be safe for you to come here by yourself.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound so terrible.” He mentally slapped himself. That hadn’t come out at all the way he’d meant it to. “I mean, if Relos Var approves, of course. It would be a way to learn much quicker, so I can’t see why he’d object. I would ask you a favor, though.”
“Name it.”
“Find a way to check on Janel? I worry about her. This … this can’t be easy on her.”
“Possibly not, but she’s made of metal.” Thurvishar nodded. “Still, I’d be happy to look in on her.”