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“No.”

Ashi stood up. Between her argument with Vounn and Aruget’s news, her blood seemed to boil. Her head felt light. Geth hadn’t been captured—or had he? If it had been anyone else, she might have been afraid that Tariic had used the Rod of Kings to command that they stay by his side, but thanks to his bond with the Sword of Heroes, Geth was immune to the rod’s influence. There had to be some reason he’d stayed with Tariic, though. “I need to talk to Geth. We need to know what happened.”

“Sit down, Ashi.” Vounn’s eyebrows drew together as she thought. “Is it possible that there’s another explanation for what happened at the ceremony? Geth doesn’t like spectacles—and he did seem friendly with Tariic as they left the throne room.”

“At which point he bolted for his room like a rabbit.” Ashi shook her head, teeth clenched. “It’s not my imagination. Something is wrong, Vounn. If I can talk to Geth—”

“You can’t,” Vounn said with a note of finality. “You are going to stay in these chambers while we figure out the status of things.” Ashi started to protest, but her mentor silenced her with a raised finger. “I will grant you that the situation doesn’t seem as dire as I thought. Maybe Geth is on good terms with Tariic and there’s nothing to worry about.”

Ashi saw Aruget’s ears twitch and rise at the hint of trouble.

Vounn ignored him. Lips drawn down at the corners, she said, “You can stay in Darguun for now—at least until we know whether you’re in danger or not. But there are two conditions.” She held up a finger again, then added a second one. “First, don’t give Tariic any reason to take an interest in you. Stay in our chambers and keep your head down—I’ll pass word that you’re not feeling well—while Aruget and I make a few discreet inquiries. Second, we make arrangements to get you out of Darguun, and when I tell you to leave, you leave.”

She lowered her hand. “Your friends took a chance on you. You’re taking a chance on your friends, and now so am I. Does that satisfy you?”

It would have been impossible to be completely happy at that moment. Ashi still had too much anger and fear inside her and Vounn’s face was set in spite of her offer of compromise. It was also, Ashi knew, the best aid she could hope for.

She nodded.

The long table in the Cannith dining room had been set with delicate porcelain plates ringed with silver and remarkable goblets of cut glass. The big candelabras that marched down the center of the table were likewise cut glass. The flickering candlelight—no cold, steady magical light here—danced through them. Esmyssa Entar ir’Korran, seated in a special tall chair, leaned between two of the dazzling pillars. “We haven’t seen you in Tariic’s court since the coronation,” the Zil ambassador said.

“I’ve been ill,” said Ashi.

Esmyssa gave an understanding nod. “I’m so glad that you were able to come tonight, though,” she said. “You weren’t in Rhukaan Draal long enough to join one of our dinners before Haruuc sent you off. Then of course, the business with the Gan’duur and mourning afterward. I’m sure you’ll find the evening interesting.”

“I hope so,” Ashi said with a politeness that she didn’t really feel. “Vounn insisted that I make the effort to attend.” She shifted aside slightly as a servant’s arm reached past to place a shallow bowl of soup in front of her. It was creamy, fragrant, and golden. Seated on Ashi’s left, between her and Vounn, Pater d’Orien breathed deep.

“Ah,” he sighed. “Aundairian. Beautiful. Proper food from the Five Nations—not that I have anything against dar cuisine, but sometimes you want to sit down with friends over a meal that reminds you of home. I’m sure you understand what I mean, Senen Dhakaan.”

On the other side of the table, Senen’s ears bent slightly. “More than you know, Lord Pater,” she said. She picked up a spoon and stirred the soup dubiously. “It seems rich.”

“Yes, well, give it a try. I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t like it.”

Senen started to scoop up a little of the soup, then glanced at Dannel