“Thank you.” With that, Brother Qown set about finishing the meal.
* * *
Thurvishar had been right; studying the artifact proved much easier when he didn’t have to worry about everything moving. He could even take a break, go make himself tea, and return to his observations while his subject only moved the most minute amount.
Thurvishar proved to be an excellent study partner too. He was quiet, kept to himself, and rarely interrupted, usually because he’d returned from the kitchen with tea or that thick black coffee so popular in Khorvesh. The lighthouse proved livable and secure, and although Brother Qown knew he’d have to return to Yor for baths and sleeping, it felt very much like being back at the library at the Temple of Light.
He quickly learned Relos Var had been wrong about the stone being drawn to fire. In fact, Worldhearth focused on heat, and it didn’t matter if the object in question burned at all. The difficulty lay in the fact objects only stood out by temperature in comparison to their surroundings. Two objects of the same temperature appeared as mingled, inseparable. So although he could target people by their body heat, it meant hopping from person to person, one by one. Finding the right person could take weeks.
But not everyone existed at the same temperature.
He fine-tuned the control, which allowed him to search for people who ran hotter than those around them. This included Janel, at that very moment eating breakfast, and Relos Var, who ran much hotter, so much so Qown suspected he could locate the man anywhere. Indeed, Relos Var ran so hot either he existed in a state of permanent spontaneous combustion or … he wasn’t human at all.
Qown had no idea what it meant.
Several others in the palace emitted similar heat spikes. The old woman who trained the bears ran hotter than anyone but Relos Var, as did, curiously, a polar bear cub.
Brother Qown had no explanation for the heat differences, but he noted them all down for later usage. If nothing else, knowing this made it easier to find those people later—important information indeed.
But in using the stone to hone his abilities, he made two more surprising discoveries. He first discovered that Worldhearth allowed him to cast spells through whatever heat source he scried.
Brother Qown learned this when he attempted to divine Senera’s house. He’d used a lucky guess, based on what he’d deduced about the cottage’s location. If nothing else, he thought her likely to keep a few warm coals in the fireplace. Except when he scried the location, it proved too dark to see. Without thinking, he waved his hand to cast a light spell.
Which showed up inside Senera’s cottage.
As a consequence of that first discovery, Qown made his second: Relos Var was using Senera’s cottage to meet with his vané friend, because at that very second they were paused, frozen in the act of walking through the front door.
Brother Qown shut off the light and ripped his mind away from the divination, back to the lighthouse. He leaned back in his chair, rapid-pulsed from fear. Would they have seen the light? If they did see it, would they know what it meant?
“Are you all right?” Thurvishar asked him.
Brother Qown started to tell him and then shut his mouth, afraid his confession might violate the gaesh. “How much do you know about the vané?” he asked instead.
“Uh … powerful? Immortal? Only, do you mean the Kirpis vané or the Manol vané? The Kirpis vané were ignobly defeated by us, and the Manol vané returned the favor tenfold. Neither likes Quur very much, and who can blame them?”
“They all look very different from one another, don’t they? I mean, you can tell who someone is just through their appearance, yes? They have cloud-curl hair in every possible color?”
“Mostly. But I think we can assume there is some repetition in their aspects. Did you see someone in particular?”
“I don’t know,” Brother Qown admitted. “Does the vané queen have blue hair?”
“Does the vané queen…? You do ask the most interesting questions. One moment, I think I have the answer.” Thurvishar approached a bookshelf in the study, coming back a moment later with a very thin book labeled Royalty of the High Races. “Let’s see … the current queen is Miyane, and yes, she does indeed have blue hair. Cloud curl, but that’s hardly a surprise, since she’s half–Kirpis vané.” He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
Qown winced. “I can’t tell you.”
“Understood. Well, if you’ve found Queen Miyane, I’m sure someone will want to know, if only because of her husband, King Kelanis. He’s new, so no one knows much about him.”
Brother Qown bit his lip. “Would you mind taking me back to the palace? I should, uh … check on a few things.”
If he hurried, he might even make it back in time to hear Relos Var and the vané queen’s discussion.
* * *
“Did you notice a flash?” the woman’s voice asked.
Relos Var frowned as he entered the cottage, gesturing to light various candles around the room. “I did, but I’m not sure…” He paused, looking around as he studied the area. “No one’s here. I suppose it might have been cloud lightning in the distance.”
“I think this may have been an unfortunate idea,” the woman said and turned to leave.
“It’s fine,” he reassured. “You’re not breaking any laws. Or even any rules.”
“If I were,” she answered, “please be assured you and I would not be having any kind of conversation at all.” She gestured. “What is this place?”
“One of my students uses it as a retreat. She’s away on business, so this is very safe from prying eyes.”1
The vané woman swallowed and looked away, her expression unhappy. She appeared to be a young woman—except the tension around her eyes and mouth made her seem older. “Have you found him?”
“Please, sit down. Would you prefer coffee, tea? There’s brandy, if you’d rather.”
She pulled out a chair and sat down. “Have you found him?”
He hesitated as he sat down himself. “Yes.”
She exhaled in relief.
“I can’t retrieve him from his current location. But rest assured he’s safe and with people who will treat him well.”
Her eyes flashed open again, hot with building rage.
Relos Var lifted a hand. “This may work out in our favor. This way we avoid the shuffling required to keep my various ‘friends’ from running into each other. I should send Khaemezra a thank-you gift.”
“Khaemezra!” The woman’s expression could’ve murdered gods.
“Yes.” He smiled. “Aren’t the betrayals we suffer from family just the worst?”
Her angry expression broke, and she chuckled. “That would be one way of putting it. So she has my—” She paused and winced, pressing her lips together.
Brother Qown felt himself startle. He wondered if she hesitated from caution or if she’d been prevented from voicing her thoughts. He’d become sensitive to such nuances.
Relos Var’s expression turned sympathetic. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted it to turn out this way for you.”