The Palace was more what Rudiger would have called a castle. In fact, Ninifin only had one word for both types of structures, so he supposed castle was correct, but the very first time they’d passed through the city, Zandrue had insisted palace was the correct translation.

It was all the stone. Like the Grand Temple and the other pyramids, the Palace was constructed mostly from stone, unlike the homes most Ninifins lived in. Rudiger associated stone with castles rather than palaces. However, beyond construction materials, he had to admit it didn’t bear a lot of resemblance to Arnorin castles. It was wider and more open, with three courtyards at various levels, each connected by stone staircases. There were several buildings, most only a single storey, and none more than two storeys as best Rudiger could tell. The Palace had height, but only because those single- and two-storey buildings were elevated by the hill the Palace was built on. Even so, the Grand Temple beside it still towered much higher. There was a wall around the entire Palace, but unlike the wall around an Arnorin castle, it was a low one and not wide enough to have soldiers patrolling on top of it.

Instead, a couple dozen Ninifin warriors stood along the perimeter of the first courtyard level where Rudiger now stood with Borisin to his left and Ses-Izel on the opposite side of the horse. Behind them were Ses-Izel’s wagon and the rest of her group. The warriors, all armed with spears decorated with red and black feathers, had been there in formation when they’d arrived.

This was the area of the Palace that was open to the public and was the intended marketplace for the City. Despite that, the warriors present did not look as if they would let anyone go any farther. The wagon couldn’t go any farther anyway, due to the stairs.

They didn’t design this place for horses, did they? Borisin said.

“Yeah, they really like their narrow stairs,” Rudiger said.

I can tell I’m not going to like it here.

“You say that about everywhere.” Rudiger looked around to see if there were any other options for entering or leaving the Palace. “I know your wagon isn’t coming up with us,” he said to Ses-Izel, “but they must have to bring wagons in sometimes for deliveries and things. How do they get in?”

“There’s a side entrance by the Grand Temple for wagons and livestock,” she answered.

“Makes sense. How long are we supposed to stand here anyway?”

They had been waiting at least a quarter hour now and had spoken to no one, and there was no sign of anyone else other than the guards and a small, but growing group of people from the City who had gathered at the open gate to see what was happening.

“They know we’re here,” Ses-Izel said. “They’ll come when they’re ready.”

They waited several more minutes before a group of figures appeared at the edge of the highest courtyard and began to descend the first staircase.

“Here we go,” Ses-Izel said.

Rudiger adjusted the white tunic he’d been given to wear, and felt something tear in the back. It was much too small for him, but it was the best Ses-Izel’s people were able to find for him. “You Foliths grow to such absurd sizes,” she’d said when he’d first tried it on.

Ses-Izel also wore a white tunic, as did everyone in her crew. Even the horses pulling the wagon had white feathers in their manes. Borisin’s mane, on the other hand, was adorned with black and red feathers. “Befits his status as a warhorse,” Fra-Tepeu had said. “It should make him seem a more prestigious gift.”

At the centre of those approaching was a short woman wearing white robes along with necklaces and bracelets of colourful stones, and a feathered headdress. A priest of Frana. At least he was remembering some of Fra-Mecatl’s teachings.

Surrounding the priest were four warriors, one in front, one behind, and one to each side. Unlike the warriors on the ground, who were mostly men with a few women, these four were all women. And while the warriors on the ground had the red and black feathers on their spears, these women’s jerkins were also dyed dark red, and they wore short, black leather skirts. They carried shields as well as spears and the shields were ringed with black feathers. All four had numerous tattoos.

When the group reached the bottom courtyard, the warrior at the front moved farther ahead of the others, directly towards Rudiger, Borisin, and Ses-Izel.

“Ses-Zeltzin,” Ses-Izel whispered. “Be careful of her. Leave initial platitudes to me.” She stepped forward and knelt before the approaching warrior.

Rudiger tried to go over in his head what he could remember of who Ses-Zeltzin was. He’d been studying Fra-Mecatl’s list all the way here, but there were so many names and the honorifics made a lot of them seem very similar. But if he remembered right, she was head of the Queen’s Guard, but he had no idea why she wouldn’t be with the Queen at this moment.

Ses-Zeltzin stopped right in front of Ses-Izel and looked down at her with lowered eyes, but not lowering her head. “I never expected to see you in a situation like this.”

“I am simply a messenger,” Ses-Izel said, not looking up, “bearing a gift for her Holiness from a foreign lord.” She held up the forged letter, laying it flat in her outstretched palms.

“So we heard,” Ses-Zeltzin said, taking the letter, but barely glancing at it. “Another one. He sent one just a couple months ago. This foreign lord never gives up. Now he risks insulting her Holiness with his ever-increasing frequency.”

Ses-Izel winced before quickly regaining her composure. They had not been aware of any other gifts. “As I said, I am simply a messenger. I was paid to do a task. I know nothing of any other gifts.”

“At least he saw fit to send it with an actual Ninifin this time, even if it is you—though I suppose he didn’t have much choice—so maybe he’s learning. Rise.”

Ses-Izel stood up. The two women stood with only an inch or so space between them, Ses-Izel about an inch shorter than the other. They stared into each other’s eyes for several seconds until the corner of Ses-Zeltzin’s mouth curled into a half-smile.

“You will come with us to make the presentation to her Holiness,” Ses-Zeltzin said. “Your wagon stays here.” She pressed the letter against Ses-Izel’s chest. “I will be watching you, Izel.”

I don’t think they like each other very much, Borisin said.

She didn’t use Ses-Izel’s honorific, Rudiger replied. In general, only close friends and family received the right to address someone without their honorific. These two did not seem friends, but he could not remember there being any mention on his list of anyone being Ses-Izel’s family.

Ses-Izel nodded, took the letter back, and stepped back beside Borisin.

Ses-Zeltzin walked up in front of Borisin. “You present this animal as a warrior, Izel? What a joke. It would not last a minute against my warriors.” She reached a hand out to Borisin’s snout, but Borisin snapped at her. She pulled back.

Careful, Rudiger warned.

Made her jump.

“Keep it under control,” Ses-Zeltzin said, “or I might feed it to Bahlam.”

“Surely that would be her Holiness’s decision,” Ses-Izel said.

“Her Holiness knows when to take my advice.” Ses-Zeltzin stepped up to Rudiger, standing as close to him as she had to Ses-Izel. However, this time, she turned her head to look up at him. “And who is this? Do Foliths do nothing but grow? I had heard they could grow tall, but this is ridiculous.” She was a muscular woman with several small scars on her cheeks and bare shoulders, though Rudiger would never have noticed the ones on her shoulders if she weren’t so close. A red and black tattoo looking something like a necklace of feathers circled over her shoulders just below her neck and around the top of her chest and back. A tattoo of a serpent stretched across her forehead, while her arms bore tattoos of glaring, abstract faces. She also wore several nose rings. “Well?”

Rudiger knelt, going over in his head what Fra-Mecatl had told him to do and say. He produced the letter from Fra-Tepeu and held it up just as Ses-Izel had held out hers. “My name is Rudiger Fonivan. I come at the bequest of Fra-Tepeu, brother of her Reverence Fra-Mecatl, to offer my services to her Holiness Queen Nin-Xoco as a groom for her gift. I have worked for Fra-Tepeu for—”

“Yes, enough,” Ses-Zeltzin said. “Save it for her Holiness.” She turned and walked away from him without even looking at the seal on the letter.

Rudiger was a bit unsure whether he could stand, but the hard ground was bothering his knees, so he decided to risk it.

I don’t think she likes you, either, Borisin said.

And you passed up your opportunity to win her over, Rudiger replied.

I don’t win people over. I don’t even like people. She’s got an unusual smell on her though.

What do you mean by unusual?

It’s not her smell. Something she’s in regular contact with, though. An animal I don’t recognise.

“Pay attention,” Ses-Izel hissed.

Ahead of them, Ses-Zeltzin was calling out orders to the warriors, who were moving to form a circle around Rudiger, Ses-Izel, and Borisin. The woman in the white robes of Frana walked up to Rudiger and Ses-Izel, followed by the other three warriors who had come with her and Ses-Zeltzin. She was very short, not even five feet, with long, black hair that reached halfway down her back. Her face had no tattoos, which surprised Rudiger. Tattoos were a religious expression so it was rare for priests or warriors not to have any. Of course, her robes hid any other tattoos she might have, so she might just have chosen to keep her face bare.

“I am Fra-Atl,” the priest said. Rudiger tried to remember that name. He was pretty sure it was on his list, but he couldn’t remember any of the details. “Her Holiness Queen Nin-Xoco is prepared to meet you in the highest courtyard. We will escort you to her. There may be a wait when we get there. These three women with me serve on her Holiness’s personal Guard under the command of Ses-Zeltzin, whom you have already met. They are here to watch that you do not make any untoward moves against her Holiness or her Holiness’s devoted servants. Do you understand?”

Rudiger and Ses-Izel both bowed their heads. “We do, Reverence,” Ses-Izel said.

“Very good.” Fra-Atl turned and called out to Ses-Zeltzin. “We are ready!”

Ses-Zeltzin snapped to attention, then raised her spear above her head and slapped it down against her shield. The warriors at the front began to move. Ses-Izel nodded to Rudiger and they began to move too, Borisin still between them. It wasn’t a long trip, just up two flights of stairs, which Borisin grumbled about—they were narrow even for two-legged creatures—but managed without much difficulty.

The top courtyard was the smallest, with several small buildings flanking it and the main Palace building at the far side. On arrival, the warriors took up positions along the perimeter similar to where they had stood in the lowest courtyard. The Queen’s four personal guards stood with the priest a couple yards in front of Rudiger and Ses-Izel, facing and watching them. Then they waited again.

Rudiger stepped closer to Borisin and looked over the horse’s neck at Ses-Izel. “Can I ask you something?”

“No.”

“You don’t even know—”

“I have a pretty good idea.”

“Okay, sorry.” He didn’t want to risk getting her angry at him again. So far today, she was being civil with him, and he didn’t want to ruin that. She had raged and screamed at him for ages last night after Acat, Kianto, and Ses-Patli had left. Even though the three of them had accepted that Jorvan wasn’t an evil demon, she had gone on about how much of a risk it had been and that he had better not try anything so insanely stupid while in the Queen’s employ.

She sighed. “Oh, you’ll probably find out anyway. I’m sure she’ll delight in telling you at some point. Zeltzin is my sister.”

“There was nothing about that in anything Fra-Mecatl told me.”

“She doesn’t know. Neither does Fra-Tepeu or anyone in the Resistance. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t spread it around.”

“I won’t say a word.”

“Thank you. Will you tell me something now?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Where’s your friend Zandrue? And don’t give me any bullshit about meditating in the wilderness. That’s a pretty transparent lie.”

Rudiger stroked Borisin’s neck. He’d been doing pretty well the last couple days not thinking about Zandrue. Now the feelings flooded back. “Don’t know. She took off without explanation.”

“You were lovers?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I keep hoping she’ll come back. I mean, she had to have a reason for what she did. There had to be a purpose to it, but all she’d say was it was for my protection, and everyone else’s. I don’t get it.”

Ses-Izel was silent after that while they waited

After a few minutes, the priest came over to him. Rudiger had already forgotten her name. He wanted to pull his list back out and start studying it again, but that would have to wait until there was no one else around.

“You worked for Fra-Tepeu?” the priest asked.

“Yes, Reverence,” he answered.

“His sister has long been a good friend of mine. How is Mecatl doing these days? It has been a long time since she was last in the City.”

“She is doing well, I think,” Rudiger said. “She doesn’t make many trips into the City anymore because it is hard on her legs. So she says.”

“She could ride. We would send her a wagon if she asked for it.”

“With respect, Reverence, it would not be my place to make such a suggestion. Fra-Mecatl does not take advice she did not ask for.”

The priest chuckled. “That is very true. We elderly clergy get stuck in our ways.”

“I would not have considered you old, Reverence.”

She smirked. “You flatter me, but I am. Though I will admit, Mecatl has me beat by a couple of decades. Tell me about this horse. I know little of the creatures.”

“His name is Borisin,” Rudiger began. This was also something he had practised. In order for his cover story to work, he had to pretend that the first time he had ever seen Borisin was just a couple days ago. “I’ve learnt a little of him in that time, though. For one, he’s stubborn and difficult to control, which is typical of stallions.”

Hey! I am not stubborn. I just don’t let up when I’m right, and I’m right most of the time.

Rudiger paid Borisin no mind and continued to tell the priest about stallions and horses.

“Thank you for the illuminating discussion,” she said sometime later.

“My pleasure, Reverence,” Rudiger said.

“If you will excuse me, I must confer with Ses-Zeltzin. It shouldn’t be long now before her Holiness arrives.”

“Of course, Reverence.”

“You handled that well,” Ses-Izel said after the priest had moved away. “I’m actually impressed.”

Rudiger breathed a sigh of relief. “I don’t remember her name. I was terrified I would have to use it at some point.”

“Fra-Atl,” Ses-Izel said.

“Right. I can’t keep track of the names. I don’t know how I’m supposed to remember them all.”

“First, don’t worry about it. It’s more believable if you don’t know everyone’s names perfectly.”

“Do you think Fra-Atl was testing me in some way there?”

“Probably. From this point on until you leave or die, whichever comes first—and it’ll probably be death if you’re not turned away immediately—it’s probably safest to assume everything anyone says to you is a test.”

Rudiger normally wouldn’t have considered that very comforting, but given it was coming from Ses-Izel, it actually seemed optimistic.

The main building had a lot of doors, close to a dozen on just this side. Most of those doors opened simultaneously at that moment and more Ninifin warriors emerged—all women dressed in the red jerkins and black skirts of the Queen’s Guard. About two dozen in all. Behind them came five priests, two each in the green of Ninussa and the yellow of Sestin, and one in the white of Frana. Fra-Atl joined them and the six priests spread out in a line with a gap in the centre, one priest of each of the three gods on each side. Next came a succession of young girls and boys dressed in white and carrying wreaths of multicoloured feathers.

Finally, two figures emerged from the central door and approached the gap in the line of priests. One was a young woman, a little paler than typical for a Ninifin, though still with a coppery sheen to her skin. She wore a green shawl and green skirts, and a feathered headdress similar to the ones worn by the priests but taller and with larger feathers. More feathers of various colours, but mostly green, adorned her long hair, which reached almost to her thighs. She also wore numerous necklaces, bracelets, and anklets. She only had one noticeable tattoo—a sun—on the side of her neck.

At the young woman’s side was a massive orange cat with black spots. Rudiger had never seen one before, but he could only assume it was one of the jaguars Ninifins were so fond of. Circling the cat’s neck was a thick red leather collar attached to a lead held by the Queen. The cat growled at the yellow-robed priest who ended up beside it—an older woman with an eye tattoo on her forehead. The Queen hissed something at the cat, which continued to growl, but more softly.

Two of the wreath-bearing children approached in front of the Queen and the jaguar and turned to face Rudiger, Borisin, and Ses-Izel. “Presenting her Holiness, Nin-Xoco, Twelfth Queen of Ninifin, Bearer of the Rod of Nin-Papan, Voice of Ninussa,” they chanted. Then they moved aside again.

“Kneel,” Ses-Izel whispered and knelt. Rudiger followed suit.

Queen Nin-Xoco stepped forward a couple steps, the jaguar following beside her. She held out the jaguar’s lead and Ses-Zeltzin came forward and took it from her hands. The guard led the cat off to the side, where it lay down on the stone ground.

That’s the source of the scent on Ses-Zeltzin, Borisin said. Izel says it’s what Ses-Zeltzin threatened to feed me to.

Better watch yourself, buddy, Rudiger replied.

I’m not worried. I could take that thing with my eyes closed.

Hate to break it to you, buddy, but I suspect that thing would rip you to shreds.

Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

How ’bout we don’t? Just behave yourself, okay? And be careful.

“You may present yourselves,” the Queen said.

Ses-Izel produced her letter and held it out. “Holiness, I am Ses-Izel, a merchant who regularly passes the northern gate out of Ninifin to trade with the Arnorins. On my latest trip, I was contacted by the lord of the province of Nallin, who paid me to deliver a gift to you: this letter and this warhorse.”

One of the children came forward, took the letter from Ses-Izel, and delivered it to the Queen. She broke the seal and glanced at the letter. With a sigh, she then tossed it aside. Another of the children scurried forward to retrieve it. “He has written it in his tongue again. I tire of reading that uncivilised language.” The Queen approached Borisin. “This, however, is a better gift than he usually sends. You called it a warhorse. I confess I don’t know much about horses. Are they suitable for war? This one is bigger than any other horse I’ve seen. Zeltzin?”

“Foliths use them for war, Holiness,” Ses-Zeltzin replied. “They are inefficient in the forest, but on an open plain, they have some benefits. Their main use is that warriors can ride them into battle.”

“I would be interested in seeing that,” the Queen said. “Perhaps I will ride this one into battle myself one day.”

Not a chance, Borisin said. She’s not getting on my back.

Sorry, buddy, but if she wants to ride you, you’re going to let her. While we’re here, you’re going to treat her like she’s me.

Ugh, fine.

“I suppose we should compose a thank you letter,” the Queen continued. She turned around to face the line of priests. “Fra-Atl, see to it, will you? Make sure the letter is in Ninifin. Be polite if you must, but turn down any requests for a meeting or courtship.”

Fra-Atl bowed her head and replied, “As you wish, Holiness.”

The Queen turned back around and looked to Rudiger. “And you?”

Rudiger produced his own letter and held it out. He went through the same lines he had started with Ses-Zeltzin, getting through them all this time. As with Ses-Izel, one of the children came forward and delivered the letter to the Queen. She broke the seal and appeared to read the letter this time.

“It is good to read proper words. It is signed by Fra-Tepeu, but I detect Fra-Mecatl’s hand in some of the words. It has her style to it. I do miss Fra-Mecatl. She does not come to the city often enough anymore.” The Queen turned to face the priests again. “Didn’t I hear that she was preparing a foreign convert for the priesthood? What is happening with that? Ses-Xipil?”

The yellow-robed priest with the eye tattoo answered. “There have been some delays as I understand, Holiness. You know these foreigners. They are slow to learn.”

“I hope she succeeds. It would be the crowning achievement to a brilliant career, wouldn’t you say?”

“Agreed, Holiness,” Ses-Xipil said.

The Queen turned back to Rudiger. “It is quite something that Fra-Mecatl and her brother should have two foreigners with them. What is your relationship to the other one?”

Rudiger did his best to avoid grimacing. No one had given him any tips on what to say if he was asked about Zandrue. It hadn’t even occurred to him that it might happen. How should he reply? “We came to Ninifin together, Holiness. She is my...sister.” He hoped no one caught his hesitation.

“You may stand,” the Queen said. “I would like to look at you better.”

Rudiger stood up and the Queen came closer to him. “So very tall. You understand this animal?”

Rudiger looked at Borisin. “He is relatively new to me, Holiness, but I have much experience with horses.”

“A tender of horses seems a lowly profession for one with a physique such as yours. Although this is a warhorse. Have you ever ridden a horse into battle, Rudiger?”

He had been told to deny that he was in any way a warrior, though he had also been told circumstances might mean he would need to change any of the things he had been advised to say. Perhaps this was one of those occasions. If it made the Queen more well-disposed towards him... “I have on a couple occasions, Holiness.”

“That is good.” She stepped closer to him. “You have the bearing of a warrior. Perhaps you’ll train me to ride the beast.”

“If you desire it, Holiness.”

“I do desire it.”

“Then I would be happy to, Holiness.”

She ran her hand down his arm and looked up at him. “That makes me very glad.” Her lips twitched in a slight smile, and then she stepped back.

Was she coming on to him? No, he was probably imagining it.

Good grief, Borisin said, can’t we go anywhere without you flirting with every woman you meet?

I do not flirt with every woman I meet, and I’m certainly not flirting now!

The Queen moved back closer to the line of priests, then addressed him and Ses-Izel again. “These are fine gifts. I accept them. Have a place of stabling prepared for the horse. Oh! I shall have to name him.”

Name me? I have a name! Rudiger, tell her I have a name and I like it just fine.

And how do I do that without giving away that you can talk? Rudiger replied.

“Ses-Izel,” the Queen said, “did the Folith lord provide a name for the horse?”

“Yes, Holiness,” Ses-Izel said. “Borisin.”

The Queen frowned. “Borisin? Are you sure?”

“I believe so, Holiness,” Ses-Izel said. “It is probably in the letter if you wanted to check.”

The Queen shook her head. “No matter. It is a poor name. A Folith name. He needs a warrior’s name. Zeltzin, suggest a good name for this horse.”

“Buluc, Holiness.”

“Yes, perfect. Thank you, Zeltzin. I shall call him Buluc.”

I don’t like Buluc. My name’s Borisin. Tell her I don’t like Buluc.

Sorry, buddy. She’s the Queen. We can’t risk crossing her.

“Ses-Izel,” the Queen said. “You may stand.”

Ses-Izel did as instructed.

“Thank you for bringing Buluc to me. He is a fine gift. I am only sorry that you had to deal with that cretin of a Folith lord. He has been a thorn in my side of late.”

“It was no bother, Holiness. I am happy to serve. Besides, he paid well.”

“I should hope so. I would hate to think you did this service without some reward. Still, I feel I should provide you with some form of repayment.”

“Being in your presence is reward enough, Holiness.”

“Yes, an excellent suggestion! I grant your request.”

“My request, Holiness?” Ses-Izel said.

“Yes, you shall be my guest. You can tell me all about your experiences outside Ninifin. I would love to hear them.”

“I would be honoured to stay a short time, Holiness,” Ses-Izel said. “A few days, perhaps?”

“I would not disgrace you with such an offensively short stay,” the Queen replied. “You must stay a week or two at least. Oh! I have an idea. You must stay until New Year’s, watch the sacrifices with me. I am told they will be spectacular this year.”

“New Year’s,” Ses-Izel said, her voice wavering. “Holiness, I am honoured, but that’s...months away. I would...I would hate to be a burden to you.”

“Oh, nonsense. You will not be a burden. It’s not just for the horse. You have done many services for Ninifin. You are part of a very small, select group who are granted the right to leave and venture into the outside world. You brave the dangers of Arnor for the benefit of Ninifin. You deserve to be honoured for that. And think of the prestige it will bring your business. When the people see you standing with me at the sacrifices, they will be lining up to do business with you.”

“You are...very...wise, Holiness.”

The Queen waved the compliment aside, but smiled. “I don’t like to brag, but people frequently tell me that’s one of my finest qualities. You accept then?”

“I am truly honoured, Holiness. I accept.” Ses-Izel bowed just low enough to come below Borisin’s neck. At that moment, she turned her head a little towards Rudiger and sneered at him.

Now what had he done?

“Wonderful!” the Queen said. “I can’t wait to spend time together. Fra-Atl, please oversee providing my guests with accommodation. Rudiger, I would like to visit my horse tomorrow. Please make sure that you and he are ready.”

“As you wish, Holiness,” Rudiger said. “I look forward to it.”

“As do I,” she said with a smile, and Rudiger groaned inwardly.

Nin-Xoco walked over to Ses-Zeltzin and took back the jaguar’s lead. She then proceeded through the gap in the line of priests, the jaguar at her side again. As they passed, the jaguar snapped at the priest with the eye tattoo—Ses-Xipil, high priest of Sestin, if Rudiger remembered correctly. The priest reeled back with a scowl.

“Really, Bahlam,” the Queen hissed, her voice becoming harder to hear as she got farther away. “What do you have against her? She has done...”

That priest smells strange, Borisin said. Must be why that jaguar thing doesn’t like her. It’s a familiar smell though. It’s similar to—oh, wait a moment. Izel says this is all your fault.

The people attending the Queen began to file out in the reverse order they had arrived in.

Rudiger looked over at Ses-Izel, who was glaring at him. My fault? What did I do?

Borisin snorted. Just a sec. She says that if you and Zandrue had never come here, none of this would be happening right now.

The last of the children disappeared through the doors, and the priests, except for Fra-Atl, headed for the doors as well.

Yeah, well, tell her we didn’t have a choice, and this is absolutely not our fault.

Borisin snorted. Fine, just a moment.

Fra-Atl came over to them.

She says it is your fault because you proceeded to get involved in local politics. Arnorins always think they have a right to interfere with what Ninifins do.

“Please come with me,” Fra-Atl said. “I will show you the stables first and then take you to your accommodations.”

“Thank you, Reverence,” Ses-Izel said.

What’s the big deal anyway? Rudiger asked. Why is being the Queen’s guest a problem? Won’t that help the resistance even more than me being here will?

Fra-Atl began to lead the way across the courtyard, but not towards the main building. Several guards fell into formation behind them.

Izel wants me to quote her precisely on this. You’re a fucking idiot. Sorry about the language. That was me, not her. She’s not apologizing for anything. Anyway, she says that if anyone sees her with the Queen and makes the association between her and her sideline business, everything she’s worked her entire life for will be ruined. So yes, you’re an idiot and this is all your fault.

Well, you tell her—

Look, can you two argue between yourselves? Borisin interrupted. I refuse to be part of this any longer. I’m telling her that, too.

Fra-Atl led them around and past some of the side buildings to a path that led along the north side of the main building and past several more side buildings.

Anyway, Borisin said after a few moments. I wanted to tell you about that priest’s smell.

Rudiger sighed. Another shifty smell that you can’t really explain? Seem to be a lot of those these days. How’s this one any different?

No, this one I can explain, but if you’re too grumpy to listen...

No, sorry buddy. Like you said, I’m just grumpy. Ses-Izel infuriates me sometimes. But I’ll listen. Go ahead.

Borisin snorted. Okay, basically, everyone has their own unique smell. I can recognise you by yours, for example.

Right, I understand that.

But your unique smell is in a range of smells I recognise as human. Every human smells a certain way. Same goes for horses or dogs or any other animal. I learned the jaguar smell for the first time today, for example.

Okay, I get that. What does this have to do with the priest’s smell?

I don’t think she’s human.

What?

Her scent’s not far from human, but there are distinct differences. In the past, I put it off as just weird, since I’d never encountered it before, but now...

Okay, just a minute. In the past? When in the past? You know this smell?

I’ve told you since the day you met her Zandrue smells strange. I can’t tell you what it means or what they are, but I can tell you Zandrue and that priest are the same kind of...thing...creature...animal, whatever.

Rudiger nearly stopped walking and ended up stumbling. But that doesn’t make any sense. She’s human. I mean, you just have to look at her. She doesn’t have wings or horns or anything. All her parts are human. Believe me, I’ve seen them.

Well, if she’s human, she and that priest are a different sort of human than any I’ve ever encountered before.

Rudiger followed Fra-Atl in silence.

Zandrue not human? Borisin had to be wrong somehow because if she wasn’t human, what the hell was she? And where was she?