These people weren’t as powerless as they seemed.2
“Aeyan’arric’s here? Already?” Qown leaned forward, lowering his voice to match Janel’s. “That’s far too soon after the fight. If she’s recovered this fast—”
“Not if,” Janel said. “She’s recovered. It’s an unwelcome confirmation of how hard it is to permanently kill a dragon. She didn’t even stay dead for two days. And we’ve no way to know if the other dragons recover slower or faster.”
Kihrin furrowed his eyebrows. “She was dead two days ago? How did that happen?”
Janel sighed. She glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention. “I slew her.” She added, “To be fair, I had significant assistance.”
“So … let me see if I understand. You lured me here using a combination of bribery and logic. You have a hypothetical dragon—Morios—you claim will rip up Atrine any minute now. But Aeyan’arric—a dragon who is not hypothetical—has instead stalked you here. Because you were rude enough to kill her two days ago.” Kihrin grabbed his bowl and a spoon. “There’s no point worrying about your first problem until you do something about the second. Did I miss anything?”
Janel frowned at him. “No.”
“So answer me this. If this dragon—Morios—is heading for Jorat’s capital, why didn’t you set up shop in Atrine and have the Gatekeeper send me there? We’d already be in position. I didn’t see a Gatekeeper manning this side of the local Gatestone when I arrived. So unless this is your Gatekeeper’s day off and he’s drinking over at the bar, we can’t open a gate from here. Why enlist my help here—assuming I’d even agree—if it takes two months to reach Atrine? How much of that city would be left when we arrived?”3
Janel and Qown shared that look again.
“Okay, you two need to stop that,” Kihrin said. “Whatever you think I won’t believe or won’t accept—just tell me. I’ve been through and seen a lot. I’m a master at accepting the impossible.”
“The way your hands are shaking suggests otherwise,” Janel said.
“That’s a normal reaction to being attacked by a dragon.”
Qown cleared his throat. “Sometimes a particular action sounds bad if one doesn’t have the context to interpret it. For example, if somebody told me you had killed Emperor Sandus—”
“Just an example?” Kihrin narrowed his eyes. “I hypothetically killed the emperor?”
“Let him finish,” Janel said.
“Yes, thank you. As I was saying, I would be upset. But only because I lacked context. After all, Gadrith the Twisted had taken possession of Sandus’s body using the Stone of Shackles. You didn’t kill the emperor, because he was already dead. You see? If we blurt out certain facts—well, without the right context, you might reach an incorrect conclusion.”
Kihrin stared. “Where are you getting your information about me?”
He found their accuracy distressing. Kihrin checked the man’s hands; no intaglio-carved ruby rings. If Qown belonged to the late emperor’s secret society, the Gryphon Men, he wasn’t wearing his allegiance openly.
Qown cleared his throat. “That’s also one of those situations where context is important.” He turned to Janel. “We have a lot to explain.”
“Yes, you do,” Kihrin agreed. “Luckily for you, I don’t have anywhere else to be.”
Janel scowled. “Our focus must be on Atrine, Qown. Morios could wake at any moment. When he does, Atrine will be defenseless.”
“Do you want me to check?” Qown asked. “Sorry. Of course you do.” He pulled an egg-sized stone from his robes. Toward the middle, the brown agate seemed to transform to some more expensive gemstone. The colors layered until a flame appeared to burn in the center.
Urthaenriel screamed in his mind.
“Is that…” Kihrin paused and wet his lips. “That’s a Cornerstone, right?”
“Worldhearth,” Qown said. “One of the eight god artifacts. Each Cornerstone possesses unique abilities its owner can use—”
“I know what a Cornerstone is. I destroyed one two days ago.” And freed every demon in the world.
“Right. The Stone of Shackles.” Qown fidgeted. “A moment, then.”
The priest didn’t do anything special or spectacular. He stared into the rock as though admiring its beauty. After a few seconds, he blinked and tucked the stone back into his robes.
“He hasn’t attacked yet,” Qown said.
“He will soon. We need to be there when he—” She glanced over at Kihrin in time to see him roll his eyes. “You don’t believe us.”
“I still haven’t heard why we’re not in Atrine.”
“I have my reasons.”
“And what might those be?”
“Mine.” She narrowed her eyes.
But Kihrin had no interest in placating her. “You won’t give me information, and you still expect me to help? Why would I?”
Janel leaned across the table. “Because the man I encountered two days ago wasn’t a spoiled brat. Because he didn’t hesitate to aid me, even at the risk he’d be trapped in the Afterlife. Because I thought that man—who would risk his soul to save someone he’d never met before—” She curled her lip. “I assumed he’d risk his life to save two hundred and fifty thousand other people he’d never met before. Apparently, I was mistaken.” Janel stood up while Brother Qown gave the impression he wanted to hide behind his hands.
Kihrin grabbed her wrist. The scathing look she threw at him suggested he was about to lose the hand—followed by his life. “I’m sorry.” He stared into her eyes, red with glimmers of orange and yellow—not House D’Talus. “I was out of line. But please understand, you’re asking a lot. You’re expecting me to accept your story on blind faith. Anyone would be skeptical. Give me something to work with.”
Janel studied his face before sitting. “I can’t return to Atrine because of my status in the eyes of Jorat’s ruler. The moment Duke Xun learns I’m not deceased, I’ll be treated to my prompt execution. The only way I can visit Atrine is if they’re too distracted with other problems to pay any attention. For example—Morios.”4
Kihrin stared at her. “Why does Duke Xun want you dead?”
“It’s a rather long story.”
“We have time,” Kihrin said. “I mean…” He pointed back toward the front door. “We’re not going anywhere until the ice queen outside tires of this game. Or until we kill her.”
Brother Qown perked. “That’s a wonderful idea.”
“Which part? The tiring or the killing?”
“Qown—” Janel said.
“Don’t scold me. He’s right; we should tell him.” Qown smiled at Kihrin. “Plus, it’s important for you to see how you fit into all this and why we need you.”
“I know why,” Kihrin replied. Urthaenriel. If they’d already killed a dragon, then doing so again wasn’t the issue. Apparently, killing a dragon permanently was the problem. They thought they needed Urthaenriel to make it stick.