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By Root 1190 0

glowered at him. Tariic had hired Midian to join the quest for the Rod of Kings without Haruuc’s knowledge. The gnome had proved to be clever and resourceful, but it had taken time for Ekhaas to admit respect for him. He was a researcher for the Library of Korranberg, a scholar, and a historian—and as such a bitter rival to the duur’kala of the Kech Volaar. Her clan kept the glorious history of the Empire of Dhakaan alive through tales and the careful collection of artifacts. Scholars like Midian turned vibrant history into dusty reports and stole Dhakaani artifacts from their rightful keepers. In fact, when Senen Dhakaan had first learned Midian was in Darguun, she’d demanded his death as a grave robber and thief. Haruuc had overruled her, and when he was handing out rewards for the recovery of the rod, had granted Midian official permission to investigate some of Darguun’s many ruins. Ekhaas had eventually come to like the gnome. Most of the time.

She flicked the coin back to him and his fingers snapped it out of the air. He tucked it away and turned to Geth and Dagii, his expression sober. “Your message was slow reaching me—the messenger showed up at the ruins suffering from dust fever. I tried to treat him, but we didn’t have what he needed. I stayed with him until he died, then came to Rhukaan Draal.” His face darkened. “It wasn’t easy to hear about Chetiin. If Haruuc had discovered the rod’s power, though, I suppose he did the right thing.”

“No,” Geth said, “he didn’t. He only made the situation worse.” Midian looked at him with startled curiosity and Geth let his breath out in a hiss. “There were things we couldn’t trust to the messenger. The power of command isn’t the rod’s only secret—”

As Geth laid the whole truth about the Rod of Kings before Midian, the gnome’s face grew first pale, then hard. Ekhaas pushed a chair at him. It had been designed for a larger creature and for Midian it was like jumping up to sit on a table, but he did it anyway, never taking his eyes from Geth. There was a strange intensity about him, Ekhaas thought. The light-hearted researcher who had gloated over an ancient coin was gone, replaced by someone who grasped immediately just what kind of trouble they—and Darguun—faced. When Geth had finished, Midian sat in silence for a long moment.

“Chetiin needs to answer for this,” he said finally.

“He will,” said Dagii. “If we find him, he will.”

“And you wouldn’t trust any of the potential heirs with the rod?”

“No,” Ekhaas answered. She counted the names off on her fingers. “Aguus, Garaad, Iizan—definitely not. Tariic …” She hesitated.

“Not even Tariic,” said Geth. “I’d rather see him on the throne than any of the other three and maybe he would have been Haruuc’s choice, too. But if Haruuc couldn’t stand up under what the rod was urging him to do, how can Tariic?”

The gnome wrinkled his nose. “I agree. And the only plans you’ve come up with are stealing the rod or destroying it?”

Ashi looked up as if about to repeat her suggestion of using her dragonmark to block the rod’s power, but Ekhaas shook her head sharply and said, “Or both. Something stolen can be recovered. I don’t think we want anyone to get their hands on the rod. But stealing the rod presents its own problems. Darguun needs it as a symbol of stability.”

Midian’s lips twitched. “By Aureon’s blue quill, it’s a good thing none of you were born a gnome. You would have had to be locked up for your own safety.” He sat back in the chair and spread his hands. “Replace the rod with a fake.”

Ekhaas stared at him. They all stared at him. Midian looked back at them then rolled his eyes. “You can’t all be that high-minded, can you? Replace the true rod with a false rod. Darguun has its symbol, the lhesh is safe, and we can take the true rod somewhere and destroy it without anyone ever suspecting.”

“But it’s the Rod of Kings,” said Geth. “How do you create a fake? Someone will notice.”

“Nobles across Khorvaire walk around with paste gems all the time, and no one can tell. Half of the nobles probably don’t even know they’re wearing