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“I think so. Frankly, I hope so. The idea of there being something else behind the Sahktar, some greater power yet unseen, doesn’t sit well with me. But now that we know what we’re looking for, there may be new interpretations of the old texts that can help us understand what we’re looking for.”

He turns to Nazar. “I’d like you go to go back to the First House.”

“No,” Nazar says, surprising me. “I’m not of this land, Lord Protector Fortiss. I’m a priest of the Light but also a warrior. I should remain with you.”

“And I need someone I can trust.” Fortiss gives Nazar a grim smile. “And someone who can provide balance to whatever readings the ancient councilors come up with.”

“Yet I’m older than some of them,” Nazar points out.

“In years, maybe. In wisdom, most definitely. But not in your heart. And your heart is what I need.”

The two exchange a long glance. Then Nazar looks skyward. “I haven’t fully connected with Wrath since the battle,” he says, sounding hopeful. “He also was injured but…he’s recovering, I think.”

“Then it’s settled. Take Miriam and maybe two or three lords from the houses who fought here this day.

Their insights will be valuable not only to tell the tale of what happened here, but to give us the background of what’s been happening these past months, years—decades even since Rihad first visited the borders.

With the right person asking questions, and the right people answering them, I suspect we’ll learn a great deal. ”

“I shouldn’t return to the First House as a banded warrior.” Miriam’s voice startles me, and I swing to see her with less precision than I would prefer. Exactly how injured am I?

“Explain,” Fortiss says, bracing his hands on his belt.

But as I study him more closely, I see the telltale indications of his physical state as well.

His feet are braced too wide, the grip on his belt is too firm.

As if he can single- or I guess double-handedly hold himself up under his own power.

If he had a staff, I suspect he’d be leaning on it.

Heavily. As it is, he can only rely on the solidity of the earth beneath him.

He looks like a man alone, but he’s not alone. He still has his Divh.

A bloom of emptiness erupts in my belly as Miriam steps forward.

“You made the decision to band me to a Divh in the Blessed Plane, Lady Talia. You did it to save my life,” she continues, raising a hand when Fortiss bristles.

“And I thank you for it. The experience is nothing like I ever dreamed it would be, and of course I never dreamed to attain such a bond. It wasn’t my place, and in the eyes of the Protectorate it still isn’t my place.

I’ll need to re-enter the First House as if I am unbanded and reconnect with the other councilors.

Together, we’ll bend ourselves to the task of understanding what just happened here and what may happen next.

We’ll have to pore over the contents of the books that you were able to recover from the Eighth House and reinterpret the books that we still have in the First House against the information we now have.

You’ve seen the monument at the Eighth House.

That will need to be explained as well. Not right away, arguably as there’s no one to see it but us right now.

Still, the lords of the border houses have eyes, and they undoubtedly have questions.

We’ll have to manage that. However, none of them saw me fighting alongside the other battle Divhs.

They don’t know my secret. That’s to our advantage. ”

Fortiss continues to hesitate, then looks to Nazar. “It’s a deception,” he points out. “I have no desire to build power based on a house of lies. Rihad did that, and it served no one but himself.”

Nazar favors him with a small smile. “The way of the warrior is sometimes to draw the eye with one hand while striking with the other. It’s the way of the statesman even more frequently.

Councilor Miriam raises fair concerns. She has been banded to a Divh, and is neither male, nor a warrior.

It’s one thing for Talia to have proven herself on the battlefield as a warrior before her true nature was revealed.

Miriam being banded might be seen as an act of recklessness, an affront to traditions that have served the Protectorate well these many years.

We can afford to be discreet until you arrive. ”

He turns and nods to Miriam. “I’d be honored to carry you on Wrath, councilor Miriam.”

She nods, though still looks a little green at the idea. I feel a surge of pride for her bravery—for everyone’s bravery—taking on this foe and now taking on those who will have to face that same foe eventually. We’ve won a victory, yes, but that victory may be fleeting.

“Thank you,” she says, and returns the bow. I see something…indefinable arc between them, a shift of energy, like a fine filament cast out to test the air, or a line dropped into a lake to see what fish may be drawn to it.

Then Fortiss speaks, and my thoughts scatter anew.

“It’s decided then,” he says, rocking back on his heels.

“Leave as soon as you are rested and able. We can’t say for certain how much time it will take you to pass through the Blessed Plane to return to the First House.

Probably only a brace of hours, while for us it will take a good ten days to reach you, and that’s pushing hard. ”

“Perhaps too hard,” Syril puts in, from her position beside the sprawled Tennet.

“Maybe for you,” his irritated response drifts up, though he never opens his eyes.

“A fortnight, then, no more,” Fortiss says. He curls his right hand to his heart, and Nazar does the same.

Nazar glances to the sky again, then drops his gaze—not to Fortiss, but to me. “The warrior shall anticipate everything and expect nothing, Talia. It is the only way.”

Then he turns and stalks off.