The boy and girl each placed a bowl on the table—one of squash, one of corn—and bowed to Ses-Xipil. The boy had a bandage around his head. He’d just earned his eye tattoo and it hadn’t healed yet. Zandrue had seen him about a couple of times, but she didn’t have much interaction with the students.

“Thank you,” Ses-Xipil said. “You may leave us.”

As the boy and girl left, Ses-Xipil selected a still-steaming ear of corn and began to peel it. The heat didn’t seem to affect her calloused fingers. “He said he was your brother. An obvious lie, even to someone who doesn’t know you as I do. However, Nin-Xoco seemed not to notice. She seemed very taken by him. That woman is none too bright. However, I am curious. What is your relation to him? You’ve never said, and I never thought to ask.” She pushed the bowl of corn towards Zandrue.

“I knew getting into Ninifin would be dangerous and I needed some muscle.” Zandrue selected an ear of corn. It was hot and she dropped it onto her plate. “So I hired him. Paid him enough not to ask too many questions. He was good with horses, so one way to pay back Fra-Mecatl and her brother was for him to tend their horses. They believed we were lovers.”

“Were you lovers?” Ses-Xipil asked.

Zandrue looked down at her plate and tried to pull the hot leaves off the corn.

“There is no need to be embarrassed.”

“It helped keep him compliant,” Zandrue said.

“Of course it did. You also need not be embarrassed if you enjoyed it, no matter what you might have been taught.”

Zandrue managed to pull a leaf off the corn, allowing some of the steam to escape. She looked up and Ses-Xipil smiled at her.

“Let me guess. Ofstakim told you, you should be willing to seduce humans to get what you want, but you should never enjoy it. Enjoying it would make you unclean, unworthy of reward in the afterlife.”

“Something like that,” Zandrue said. Her mother had drilled it into her, too, when she was too young to even understand it.

“As I have told you many times now,” Ses-Xipil said, “that man is a dangerous idiot. He has no idea what it’s really like in the field. You would be far from the first arcraime to enjoy taking a human lover. I myself do not prefer them, but when there is no one else to choose from, they are better than nothing. And I am not ashamed to admit most of my human lovers have been for pleasure not business. You will not suffer in the afterlife because of it. Ofstakim is preaching archaic beliefs.”

Zandrue managed to peel the remaining leaves from the corn, while Ses-Xipil bit into hers. “Thank you. I know all that in principle, but sometimes childhood experiences are hard to ignore.”

Ses-Xipil nodded. “I know that only too well. However, I’m sure I don’t need to mention this, but just to be sure, you must make no attempt to see him or otherwise contact him.”

“I know. And you have my word that I won’t.”

“Good. His presence at the palace means any hope of getting you in there will not happen now. But no matter. I think I have a better place to put you anyway. I can tell you no more of it until I’ve spoken to Fra-Ichtaca, but I’m sure once she’s heard my plan, she will agree. You will not need to spend much more time doing common servants’ chores.”

“That’s good. I’m eager to start real work.” That was a lie, but Ses-Xipil—real name Tadstaime—was not good at detecting lies, which made her comments about Nin-Xoco almost funny. It was becoming hard to lie to her, though. Not because she was likely to notice the lie, but because Zandrue didn’t like lying to her.

“I know you are,” Tadstaime said. “I needed some time to be sure of you, but I am now willing to take a risk. Don’t disappoint me.”

“I won’t.”

Why did people have to be so complex? Tadstaime was a Darker, for gods’ sake. Yet she had shown Zandrue nothing but kindness. It hadn’t even been two weeks, and Zandrue was starting to see her as a mother-figure.

She grew attachments too easily. Felitïa. Rudiger. She knew that. It was why she had never been suited to life as arcraime.

Gods, Rudiger. She wanted to see him more than anything, and she was beginning to think she’d never see him again.

That hadn’t been the plan. She had intended to return as soon as the galdraif concluded. In a fit of rage, she had screamed at Rudiger about not coming back, but she hadn’t meant those words. And now, he must think she did.

Tadstaime continued to talk while they ate, filling Zandrue in on various aspects of the court that Fra-Mecatl hadn’t gotten to. Zandrue responded when called upon, but otherwise remained silent, only half listening, her mind stuck on Rudiger.

She had known a galdraif was likely to occur. It was why she had refused to go to Scovese with Felitïa, part of why she had resisted coming to Ninifin. Outside Ninifin, it would have been easier to find an excuse to get away for a week. Even so, she’d worked out an excuse, a whole story to give both Rudiger and Fra-Mecatl for why she had to disappear for a while. But when it had come time to give it, she just couldn’t lie to Rudiger. Stupid. So stupid.

If she had told the lie as planned, it probably wouldn’t have changed events that resulted in her being here now, but at least her last time with Rudiger wouldn’t have ended up an argument. He might actually be trying to find her, instead of becoming Fra-Mecatl’s next plant in the palace. At least, she assumed that’s what he was doing. It made sense of his actions.

The galdraif had been an easy one—easy compared to last year’s delgaldraif. That had been the worst it would ever get. From now on, each would be easier and less frequent. So she’d been told. She was actually surprised it had been almost a year since the last. That was comforting. Less lying to Felitïa and Rudiger. Then again, maybe it was time she told them the truth so there’d be no lying at all. No need for stupid arguments.

Gods, she’d really fucked things up with that.

She’d been considering telling Rudiger everything when she returned. She hadn’t made a final decision and gods knew if she would have gone through with it if she had, but she had at least been considering it as she walked along the road south of the city of Ninifin, on her way back to Fra-Mecatl and Fra-Tepeu’s ranch. She was going to stop in the City and find some mollifying gifts to buy for Fra-Mecatl and Rudiger, and was readying herself mentally for their probable anger at her and to make sure she didn’t respond in anger.

As she neared the City, there was a small group up ahead coming towards her: a covered wagon painted yellow with an escort of a dozen warriors. A priest of Sestin. Probably an important one.

Zandrue stood to the side of the road and bowed her head. “Sestin’s blessings on her Reverence,” she said to the warriors as they passed. A woman was looking out the wagon’s window.

They had only gone a short distance past Zandrue—just far enough that she was about to continue on her way—when the wagon came to a stop and one of the warriors called out, “You! Halt!”

Zandrue stopped. The warrior was approaching her. “Her Reverence has asked to speak to you.”

“Of course. I’m happy to speak with her Reverence.” It was inconvenient, but not worrying. The priest had probably noticed she wasn’t a Ninifin and was curious. She just needed to drop Fra-Mecatl’s name, as the priest had probably heard that there was an outsider with the elderly priest of Frana.

The warrior led her to the back of the wagon and knocked on the door.

“Enter,” a voice called from inside.

The warrior opened the door and Zandrue climbed onto the step. She put a foot into the wagon and a scent hit her nose—a scent she hadn’t smelled in a very long time.

Zandrue’s first instinct was run. But she’d be dead in seconds if she did that. She forced herself to continue into the wagon. This way, she might have minutes remaining to her life.

The older priest of Sestin inside stared at her, eyes wide and mouth half-open. There was no way she could have smelled Zandrue on the road from inside the wagon, but she had to have smelled her now. “In,” she said after a moment. “Sit.”

She turned to the teenage girl in the wagon with her. The girl wore a yellow robe but did not have the eye tattoo. Either she hadn’t earned it yet or she lacked magical potential. “Out,” the priest said.

“Reverence?”

“You heard me. Out. I wish to speak to this outsider alone. I think I know who she is, and what I have to say to her is not for your ears. You will walk with the guards to the villa.”

The girl bowed. “Yes, Reverence.” She hurried out of the wagon, closing the door behind her.

Zandrue sat in the seat the girl had vacated and looked across at the priest. The older woman had a thin face—not thin from lack of food like so many Ninifins, but naturally thin. Her hair was mostly grey and her skin was starting to show hints of wrinkles. Like all wizard priests of Sestin, she bore a tattoo of an eye on her forehead. Zandrue couldn’t be sure, but she suspected this person was Ses-Xipil, Voice of Sestin. She matched the description. But if she was, that meant Ninifin had far worse people in control of it than even Fra-Mecatl thought.

“Name,” the priest said.

“Zandromeda Armida.”

“I mean real name. And your division controller.”

Zandrue had known what the priest meant, but she needed some time to think. She could give a false name, but not having had any time to prepare a cover story, she could be found out with a couple incorrect answers to questions. Or she could give her real name and hope this woman had been in Ninifin too long to recognise it. To become the high priest of Sestin, she would have had to be here a long time. Of course, she would still have some contact with home, but Zandrue hoped it was infrequent enough that she wouldn’t have bothered keeping up on the identities of any carcraime.

“Lacquaime, Daughter of Emclenim of the Warrior Caste. My division controller is Ofstakim, Son of Efdratim of the Warrior Caste.”

Zandrue held her breath.

“You poor thing,” the priest replied. “I would never wish Ofstakim on anyone. That man is an idiot, and a dangerous one at that. I am Tadstaime, Daughter of Afragim of the Warrior Caste, but I presume you know that. Why are you here?”

Zandrue let out her breath. On the one hand, she was relieved she hadn’t been recognised, but on the other hand, she now had to come up with a cover story for being here. “I was sent to find you and be your assistant.” She held her breath again.

“Really.” Tadstaime sighed. “Of course, nobody saw fit to tell me. I suppose this has something to do with the ceremony at New Year’s?”

“I don’t know. I was just told that I was to serve you.” Playing ignorant on this would help avoid other questions she couldn’t answer. She hoped.

“Typical. There are too many secrets these days. The left hand doesn’t know what the right is doing half the time. I don’t need an assistant and I don’t want one. However, as you’re here, we should find something for you to do. We are headed to my villa by the Toucan. We will talk more there where I can set up a space where we won’t be overheard. For now, remain quiet so I can think. Keep in mind, when we are amongst Ninifins, I am Ses-Xipil, Voice of Sestin. Address and treat me appropriately.”

Zandrue nodded.

Ses-Xipil’s villa was a lot like Fra-Mecatl’s ranch. There was a lot of open land, though with a few more trees, and it was closer to the Toucan than Fra-Mecatl’s was to the Jaguar. The main house was a little larger than Fra-Mecatl’s, though of the same style. The kitchen building, however, was quite a bit bigger than Fra-Mecatl’s. There was also no barn, but there was a servants’ building. And there was another, smaller building. Unlike the others at the villa, it was made of stone with a hole in the centre of its roof. It turned out to be a sauna and was where Ses-Xipil took Zandrue when they arrived.

They sat there in silence for several minutes while the servants heated the stones and brought pails of water. Once the servants were finished and had left, Ses-Xipil—Tadstaime; Zandrue wasn’t sure what name to think of her with—flicked both of her hands towards the door and a bar of metal sprung into being across it, blocking it from opening. She then brought her closed fists up against her face, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. After a moment, she opened her eyes and punched her hands at the air in front of her, fully extending her arms. The walls, ceiling, and floor began to shimmer.

Ses-Xipil stumbled back onto one of the stone benches. Zandrue rushed over to her, but she held up her hand. “It’s all right. That is a difficult spell and takes a lot out of me. However, the field will block sound from travelling in or out of the building. It will prevent anyone eavesdropping on us. It is a little unpredictable how long it will last, but we should have about an hour. Pour a bit more water on the stones, have a seat, and enjoy the sweat house for a minute or two while I catch my breath.”

Zandrue did as she was told, then sat down. She couldn’t enjoy the sauna, however. She was too busy trying to come up with answers to potential questions, and thinking about ways she could escape if she needed to. And thinking about the fact she was probably going to die soon.

“Now then,” Ses-Xipil said at last, no longer speaking Ninifin. “Ah, it is nice to be able to use a civilised language for a change. I suppose that will be a benefit to having an assistant. I presume you are the outsider that Fra-Mecatl hoped to see raised to the priesthood.”

Zandrue hadn’t spoken this language in a very long time. It was her first language from childhood, but even first languages could decay through years of disuse. “That’s correct.” She coughed from the long-unused sounds required. “Apologies. It must be the steam.”

Ses-Xipil chuckled. “When you’ve been away from home awhile, that can sometimes happen. What were your intentions with Fra-Mecatl?”

“A contact outside Ninifin gave me her name as someone more open to outsiders than most. I knew that if I just walked up to the Grand Temple or Palace, I wouldn’t be allowed in to see you, so I thought going to Fra-Mecatl was a better place to start. If I could convince her to give me religious instruction and to sponsor me to the priesthood, I would have a chance of finding my way to you. My birthday falls under the sphere of Sestin, so I would be given the Ses- honorific and possibly placed under your direct tutelage. Even if I wasn’t, it would improve my odds of meeting you. I never expected to bump into you by chance on the road.”

“I see.” Ses-Xipil lay on the bench and stretched out. “Feel free to make yourself as comfortable as you wish. Now you’ve bumped into me, there is little reason for you to return to Fra-Mecatl.”

“She will wonder where I am.” Zandrue remained sitting upright.

“Yes, she will, but we will let her think you have run off or been killed. Some of my associates have reason to want to see her disgraced in such a fashion.”

“Will it be bad for her?”

Ses-Xipil rolled onto her side. “Have feelings for her, do you?”

“Only enough to not want to see her unnecessarily hurt. She was kind to me.”

Ses-Xipil rolled onto her back. “Don’t worry. It will be a loss of honour, but will hurt nothing more than her pride. The question becomes what to do with you. The coincidence of another outsider will draw attention, so we cannot prepare you for the priesthood as much as I would love to claim the honour Fra-Mecatl hoped to claim. I will have to keep you here at the villa, at least until memories of Fra-Mecatl’s outsider have faded. Word that I have an outsider here will undoubtedly reach others, but I think I can deal with that.” She sighed and sat up. She looked at Zandrue and frowned.

“Is there a problem?” Zandrue asked.

“Yes, though it is not your fault. It’s Ofstakim’s, or whoever turned to him for an agent. Are there no arcraime who look Ninifin?”

“Not in my division. I don’t know about any others.”

“As I said, that man is an idiot. If I had to guess, he didn’t even consider your appearance when selecting you. He just chose from whoever he had available.”

Zandrue just nodded.

“Nothing to say to that? Not going to defend him?”

She shook her head.

“Good. If you are going to work under me, you need to know that I will trash-talk him.”

“I hate him,” Zandrue said.

Ses-Xipil nodded. “Most who serve under him do, but unfortunately, many are also brainwashed. They hate and love their tormentor at the same time. Enough that they will defend him against any accusation and even willingly die to protect him.”

“I told my father once that I wished I could be transferred to a different division. He told me I should be honoured to be where I am, that Ofstakim would turn me into a skilled and deadly warrior. Then he told Ofstakim, and Ofstakim had me whipped.”

“How old were you?”

“Eight or nine, I think. I don’t remember for sure anymore.”

“The man’s methods are abusive. Tell me, Lacquaime, how old were you on your first mission?”

“Ten.”

Ses-Xipil lowered and shook her head. “It should be sixteen at least, and then only if the girl has shown herself exceptionally skilled. What happened?”

“I was caught. Nearly executed. I returned in failure.”

“All sent at that age do. Ofstakim would say it’s to build resilience and determination.”

Zandrue wiped a tear from her eye. “Yes, that’s what he told me.”

“So many die, so many turn carcraime, and yet he still has his position. I am glad you are willing to tell me these things, Lacquaime. If you are going to serve me, I need you to be open with me.”

Zandrue was a bit surprised she was being so open and truthful with her, but it was working. It was gaining her trust. And she had never really had the opportunity to talk about these things with anybody. She could have, if she had just told Felitïa. She could have told Felitïa everything, and Felitïa would have listened and understood. But it had been too terrifying a prospect.

“You poor soul,” Tadstaime said and Zandrue realised she was crying. “Feel free to let it out. Remember no one else can hear you, and know that I understand and sympathise.”

But if Tadstaime found out Zandrue was carcraime, she wouldn’t hesitate to kill her, no matter how sympathetic she might also be.

Zandrue began to sob, then wail. Years of pent-up emotions burst from her, and she pounded and kicked at the stone walls. She wasn’t sure how long it went on, but when it finally came to a stop, she looked over to see Tadstaime pouring some more water on the stones. It was hard to tell through the steam, but she looked like she had been crying too.

“Come closer to me,” Tadstaime said. Zandrue approached her and she reached a hand out towards her face. “May I? You do not need to say yes, and I will honour your wishes, but I would like to touch your face. I so rarely get to feel another of my kind.”

Zandrue nodded. “It’s okay.”

Tadstaime placed both hands on Zandrue’s cheeks and wiped away some of the tears. Then she leaned closer and breathed in Zandrue’s scent. Zandrue took the opportunity to do the same with her. It had been so long since she had taken in a scent like this. Tadstaime reminded Zandrue a bit of her mother, which brought back a flood of memories—some good, most bad.

Tadstaime ran her fingers around Zandrue’s ears and then through her hair, probing her scalp. She stopped when she found the slight indents of Zandrue’s recessed horns. The new skin was still tender to the touch and Zandrue flinched.

“My apologies. There is some scabbing here. You have recently been through your galdraif?”

Zandrue nodded.

“Was it a bad one?”

“No. I had my delgaldraif last year. This was easy compared to that.”

“I am glad to hear that.” Tadstaime removed her hands from Zandrue’s head. “Thank you for that. I will confess that I am beginning to like the idea of having an assistant, an associate here with me. But know this. I expect obedience, complete obedience, but I will never be unfair and I will always treat you with dignity, so long as you do the same for me.”

“You have my word,” Zandrue said.

“And I will make you a promise, Lacquaime. I am not without influence. I even have the ear of Prince Castroff himself. I am, of course, wise enough not to overuse my influence, but if you prove yourself to me, if you please me and are loyal, I promise you I will use what influence I can to have you transferred to a different division. Perhaps even placed with me permanently. I will not live forever and it would please me to know that I have a well-trained and trustworthy successor to turn things over to when my time comes. I also promise you, if the opportunity ever presents itself, I will kill Ofstakim for you. You need not do it yourself.”

“Did I say that during—”

“You screamed multiple times that you want to kill that motherfucker.”

“Ah. I was pretty incensed.”

“Think nothing of it. Now then, I know what your first task for me will be. Your chance to prove yourself to me. I confess I did some unwise things when you arrived. I was taken by surprise, and I reacted poorly. If I had been thinking, I would have simply treated you as nothing more than an outsider whom I suspected of being the one with Fra-Mecatl. That’s why I stopped you, after all. Once we were here in private, we could talk. The girl who was here with me—Ses-Ihuicatl—she is very talented and a very promising conjurer. She is very smart and my actions will make her question things. She also ascribes to the teachings of people like Fra-Mecatl and Fra-Atl. I fully accept that this is my fault and not yours, Lacquaime, but I am now asking you to clean up my mistake. Deal with her and make sure no one ever finds the body.”

Zandrue nodded. “Of course.”

Tadstaime wiped sweat from her forehead and walked over to the door. “I think I have had enough of the sweat house for today. You do not need to deal with the girl immediately. Sometime in the next forty-eight hours will be fine. I’ll let you choose the exact time and means. Until then, enjoy the sweat house as much as you want. When you are ready to leave, there will be a servant outside who will show you where you can bunk. Do not use the name you were using with Fra-Mecatl. Pick a new one. I don’t care what as long as it’s Arnorin. I look forward to the possibilities your presence brings, Lacquaime. I think I will enjoy working with you, and I hope you enjoy working with me.” She reached for the door, but paused. “But know this: If you ever betray me, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

“I understand.” As you will when you find out I’m carcraime, Zandrue thought.

“Back to being Ses-Xipil then and that annoying language. I will see you soon.” The metal bar on the door vanished. She opened it and left.

That was twelve days ago. And now Zandrue sat eating dinner with Tadstaime/Ses-Xipil like she had most evenings since, having apparently proven herself.

“I shall be returning to the City in the morning,” Tadstaime said. “I will probably be gone two days. When I return, I will have word on that assignment for you. If Fra-Ichtaca is not on board, I will come up with something else for you.”

“Just two more days of patience then,” Zandrue said.

Tadstaime nodded and smiled.

“It’s quicker than I expected, actually.”

“You have pleased me. I know I haven’t said much of it, as I have been waiting to see what comes of it, but I am very impressed with the Ses-Ihuicatl situation.”

“Thank you. Do you wish to know what I did?”

“No. I only care that it is done. And the fewer people who know, the better. Including me. But assuming she remains unfound, you have done an exemplary job.”

It had been a long time since Zandrue had killed in cold blood. She had killed in defence of herself or others like Felitïa, and sometimes because the other person simply deserved it—which she supposed counted as cold blood. But an innocent in cold blood was altogether different.

Getting the girl out to the sweat house in the late evening had been easy. A simple statement that Ses-Xipil had summoned her was enough. It had also been easy to slip her a sleeping draught while she waited for Ses-Xipil to arrive. Then Zandrue simply carried her into the darkness of the night to a muddy pool fed by the Toucan and waited for her to wake up.

“What’s happening?” the girl cried. “Why am I here? What’s going on?”

Zandrue knelt beside her. “One of two things. Hopefully the better one. The mud? That’s either to dilute the blood when I slit your throat or to get you really dirty and cover up your tattoos.”

The girl was crying and Zandrue couldn’t blame her.

“Look, Ses-Xipil is an evil woman and she has ordered me to kill you, but I don’t want to do that, so here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to let you go. I’ve brought a change of clothes for you. You’ll put them on, get yourself nice and dirty so no one recognises you and no one wants to come near you. Then you’ll head north. Go around the City and then go straight to Fra-Mecatl’s ranch. Tell her Zandrue sent you and that you need to get out of Ninifin as soon as possible. Tell her you’re a dead woman otherwise. She will be really annoyed and she will bitch and complain, but in the end, she will make arrangements for you. Do your best not to let her brother or anyone else there see you, especially not an outsider man staying with them. Fra-Tepeu does frequent trips into the city and without me there, he’ll probably take the man with him. Wait until they’re away before you present yourself to Fra-Mecatl. Oh, and tell Fra-Mecatl not to worry about me or to tell anyone about me. They can’t come looking for me. If they do, it could get a lot of people killed. Anyway, once you’re out of Ninifin, look for a woman people are calling Eleuia. She’s not the real Eleuia obviously, but never mind, just look for her. If you can’t find her, go to a woman in Getavin named Luana. But on no condition are you to ever return to Ninifin. If you do, you will die. Do you understand?”

“I don’t know. I—”

“Do. You. Understand?”

The girl nodded and between sobs, gasped, “Yes, I understand.”

“Will you follow my instructions exactly?”

“Yes, I will.”

“If you give me your word, I’ll believe you and trust you. Just remember that if you don’t do what I say, you will die, as will I and probably lots of other people too. Give me your word.”

“I give you my word.”

Zandrue smiled at her. “Thank you.” She took her dagger out and the girl flinched. “It’s okay.” She reached out and cut the girls bonds. “The clothes are lying over there. Put them on, roll around in the mud a bit, and then get the fuck out of here.”

Zandrue got up and walked away, not watching to see how well the girl followed her instructions. The fact Zandrue was still alive now was a good indication she had done as told—or at the very least, had proven to be very good at hiding herself. Either way worked.

Zandrue smiled at Tadstaime. “Thank you for everything and for being so good to me after knowing me for so little time.”

Tadstaime reached out and took her hand. “I have seen too many young women in your situation. It makes me happy to be able to help one for a change.”

It was going to be hard to betray this woman, which Zandrue knew she would have to do eventually—and that would likely mean killing her if she wanted to avoid dying herself. She really liked her. But the fact Tadstaime had ordered the death of an innocent girl as a test of loyalty was a constant reminder that, as much as Zandrue liked her, she was no innocent herself. Tadstaime didn’t yet know it, but that test of loyalty had ensured disloyalty in the end.