"Thank you for your cooperation," Krayson said as he raised his knife.

    Lady Ilyena the Djago curled her lip in distaste. "I assume you understand how..."

    "...having blood drawn by a blood runner could be construed? Yes, my lady. Fortunately, I've no intention of taking your bloodsong."

    The Lady Djago's violet eyes were as dark as her scowl as she glared down her nose at him.

    "I will be gentle, my lady."

    Krayson frowned as she heard a dragonet snort into her hands from somewhere above him. He truly needed to have a word with Saveen about her dirty mind.

    After a tiny cut, Krayson confirmed the Lady Djago was human. Ostensibly. Krayson saw little resemblance to the Karsts he knew in her manner outside the physical. Lady Ilyena was Lady Ascania's first cousin, but Krayson's brief impression of Ban's mother was of a kindly woman. Ilyena was anything but. Colder than the weather.   

    Krayson performed a one-point single somatic using flesh essence to close the small wound. "Thank you, my lady. That will be all."

    The Lady Djago rubbed at her palm and the healed skin, tossing Krayson one last sneer as she made to leave the throne room. Before she and House Djago's retainers left, Pacifica and Starra arrived with the last group of palace residents for screening.

    Pacifica forced a smile for the head of House Djago. "Lady Ilyena, how nice to see you."

    "My lady," Ilyena said with false sweetness. "I trust this depravity isn't indicative of how House Romov will see to affairs in Ecclesia."

    "A necessary measure, I assure you," Pacifica said, matching every ounce of veiled scorn with her tone. "Once my brother returns, you can trust that every threat to the White City will be thrown from the stormbreak. No matter how deeply they've burrowed their way under our skin."

    Ilyena tilted her chin up. "Perhaps the king could begin with the blood mages and vampires taking root."

    Pacifica's smile widened. "I'm certain he will be more concerned with those who wish to harm Ecclesia. As I'm absolutely certain you're aware, Kadmus the Valdar has once again proclaimed his right to the Sea Throne. Sasha must first deal with him and his lackeys before moving on to insulting our house's allies."

    Ilyena's fingers curled over her palms. The lady offered a curtsy that barely bent her knees before bustling with her retainers out of the throne room.

    Krayson endeavored to hide how he paid attention to every detail of the exchange. He found it enthralling. Courtly intrigue wasn't his field, but he could admire the artistry of a master in any form it was presented.

    "Enchanting," Starra said in his ear. He hadn't noticed her sidling up beside him.

    "What?"

    "The princess. How she weathers the storms thrown at her without flinching. Returns it without hesitation. Puts Ilyena on her toes and lets her know the eyes of Romov are watching their connections to the Valdars with keen interest, all while avoiding saying anything that could be truly construed as impertinent. Not to mention that bodice. Bloody hell."

    Krayson grunted. "I can only imagine Reyn wouldn't appreciate you lusting after Princess Pacifica."

    Starra laughed. "Is that what I'm doing? I really do enjoy your improvidence immeasurably, dear Krayson."

    He opened his mouth to respond.

    "Do shut that face of yours, my friend. I'm afraid nothing will come of it but embarrassment."

    Krayson did as suggested. Instead, he looked up to the balcony overlooking the throne room and the tiny, blue dragonet looping in circles around the vaulted ceiling. "And what did you see from up there, Saveen?"

    "Nothing worth mentioning to you, master," she replied.   

    "Just to me, or not worth mentioning in general?"

    Saveen giggled. Krayson was getting the definite feeling he was being teamed up on, but he couldn't figure out what their aim was. He found himself longing for Teularon, where women just ran the villages and the men served the Horde. Segregation of genders had its advantages.

    If I was with the Horde, I'd be fighting the Gaulatians right now, he thought. I'd be riding into battle alongside my father. Taking territory, plundering cities, and winning prestige for our tribe. I would have been the son of the Tiger King, second only to him. His closed right hand.

    It surprised him that he almost wanted that. Krayson had mixed feelings regarding his father, Joshuan Jak'm. He hated his father, yet he respected no man in the world more. Krayson could never do what Jak'm could do for the good of the tribe.   

    Krayson knew it for certain. He'd been in the same situation. Abandon someone he was responsible for in the service of a greater good. When Krayson had the opportunity, the responsibility, and even the thundering intent to leave Saveen on her own, he found it impossible. Perhaps that was part of why Jak'm cast Krayson out.

    He was too weak for the Horde.

    Saveen fluttered down from the ceiling and alighted on his shoulder. Her yellow eyes were concerned. "I didn't mean it. I'll spill the beans if you want me to."

    Starra's mouth fell open in dismay.

    "It's not that, Saveen," Krayson said. "I was thinking of the war in Gaulatia."

    Starra wilted with relief. She took in a breath and patted Krayson on the back. "I imagine you'd have liked to accompany the Arcane Knights Her Majesty sent east."

    "I'm not even aware of who the empress sent."

    "The Corwyn should have left for Parnaia this morning," Pacifica said. She'd seen Lady Ilyena off and now came to join them. "The Moonstones, the Jaspers, and House Corwyn's veteran armsmen are clinging to whatever scraps of harness are available."

    Krayson narrowed his eyes. "Shan Alee only has two adult ivory dragons and three browns. Five knights can't stand against the Horde."

    "Perhaps not," Pacifica allowed, "but they will be a powerful asset to House Marcel's efforts. Their goal is to show Shan Alee's support of mutual defense within the Five Kingdoms. It will raise international esteem for the Dragon Empress, and no one will support Cathis' moves against the Aleesh race once they're seen as defenders of the goodfolk."

    "But to matters at hand," Starra said. She gestured towards the line of old men and mop-headed boys filing into the throne room. "Pacifica, is this the last of them?"

    Pacifica nodded. "The stable hands. Now that we're done twisting the Djagos' arms to consent to screening, these are the last people in the palace who could be the skindancer."

    "Do they know why they're here?" Krayson asked.

    "Not yet," she said. "Saveen and I didn't let it spread. I'm sorry to say the staff's getting used to secrecy because of the tensions between Ecclesia and the other Altieri city-states."

    Starra let out a heavy sigh. "Well, I don't know about all of you, but I'm ready to get this over with. It's been hours, and I'm positively exhausted. Once these are cleared, we can say it's all but certain the skindancer is with the legion." She smiled and nodded to Pacifica. "If you would, my lady."

    Pacifica turned to where the stable hands had lined up as if for an army inspection. All together, there were nine of them ranging in age from eight to eighty. The princess stood in front of them and spoke in a calm tone of voice. "I'm sorry for pulling you all from your duties on such short notice, but there's a matter of security that needs to be addressed."

    "None of those Valdar swine in the stables, my lady," one of the stable boys piped up. His enthusiasm was greeted with chuckles from his elders.

    Pacifica smiled warmly at the boy, a red-headed and gap-toothed lad in Romov livery. "Thank you, Zhenner. I'm sure you're right. I don't mean to alarm you, but it's not your standard sort of spy we're looking for. My wizardry master and her associate, Brother Joshuan of the Sanguine Fraternal Order, are hunting for a creature known as a skindancer."

    The stable hands didn't take that well. A few cried out fearfully, and Krayson heard dark mutterings that included "shifter filth" in the mix. The boy Zhenner's previous bravado had given way to wobbly knees and fearful eyes. One of the older men stepped forward to address Pacifica.

    "My lady, do you be saying one of us be... it?"

    "We don't know, Hercule. I hope not. Lady Starra and Brother Joshuan have been screening everyone in the palace since dawn. The longer we go without finding the skindancer, the more likely it is the creature has already left. But, if the skindancer is in the palace, we must learn who it is, what its plans are, and what else it's done. We can already lay Lidya and Margo's deaths at its feet. We wish to know what other crimes it's been up to."

    Krayson stepped forward to stand next to Pacifica. He found it interesting that none of the stable hands seemed to think the tiny dragon on his shoulder was at all out of the ordinary. The Ecclesians really had gotten used to the mighty being around.

    "I will only need to draw a few drops of blood to confirm you aren't the skindancer. Who will go first?"   

    The old man who spoke stepped forward. "Aye, Blood Runner, sir. I be the first."

    "Thank you, Hercule," Pacifica said. "Brother Joshuan must be thorough, but he'll be swift. He's a trusted ally of our house."

    Krayson nodded to her. He appreciated the sentiment. Readying his knife, he went forward and took the hand Hercule offered him.

    "Bleeding this old flesh be like taking water from a turnip, my lord, but it be red as any man's."

    Krayson only needed to give Hercule a single knick to confirm his claim. "So it is. Thank you, Goodman. Next in line, please."

    The second was a blond Southron boy and Hercule's grandson. He was also who he seemed to be. Krayson went down the line and tested the other stable hands. He was testing the eighth when he noted the last in the line. The Zhenner boy.

    He was sweating, shaking like a leaf, and tiny whimpers kept escaping his throat.

    "Are you alright, lad?" Krayson asked him.   

    As if spurred by Krayson's question, Zhenner turned on his heels and ran for the main doors.

    Krayson got ready to give chase. "Saveen, it's here!"

    Even before Saveen was able to shout out her first incantation, the temperature in the throne room dropped dramatically. Ice traced across the ground towards the open doorway and rose to seal it off completely. Zhenner slipped on the slick surface and fell onto his side. The boy continued forward and smacked against the conjured wall of ice. In the next moment, a tiny dragonet leapt onto Zhenner's chest while shouting "Yah!"

    Krayson was sprinting as fast as he could towards them. "Saveen, look out! The venom!"   

    He needn't have worried. Saveen transformed into her full size, a claw pinning each of Zhenner's limbs to the ground. The boy was screaming at the top of his lungs, begging Saveen not to eat him.

    Krayson looked back to the source of the ice. Pacifica stood with her hands contorted into somatics. Conjuring all that ice from nothing would have required a prodigious amount of ether, but she seemed to have handled the drain admirably. Her wizardry was improving. Krayson picked his way carefully over the slick ground as he came to Saveen.

    Zhenner continued to shout in hysterics. He certainly wasn't displaying bone spurs to try injecting a skindancer's venom. Krayson was starting to think he'd only been overwhelmed and had panicked rather than trying to escape discovery. Even so, best to be safe. Krayson knelt by the boy's shoulder.

    "Hold him down, Saveen."

    "No, please!" Zhenner cried. Tears leaked from his eyes like a river. "I'm not! I swear it, my lord. I'm not like them!"

    Krayson slid his blade across Zhenner's palm. Black vapor poured out from the cut.

    Pacifica was there the next moment, and Krayson had to jump to his feet to restrain her from attacking the skindancer with her fists.   

    "Monster!" she shouted. She fought to free herself from Krayson's grip and kick at the skindancer's head. "Which of them did you kill? Lidya? Margo? Which was it, you fiend?"

    "My lady..." Zhenner wept.   

    Starra had to forcibly usher the other stable hands out. They were crawling over each other to get at Zhenner and tear him apart with their bare hands. It reached the point where she needed to call for armsmen and knights from the hallways outside to clear the room. Only after the four of them were alone with the skindancer did she come to join them.

    "Burn it," Pacifica hissed. "It killed Zhenner, and we need to put him on his pyre. He can take this monster to Hell on his way Beyond."

    "Pacifica, wait," Saveen said as she stood on top of the skindancer. "One moment. I think I found something."

    She lowered her head to carefully bite at the boy's House Romov tunic. She ripped the material away to expose his chest. Underneath, bandages wrapped around his torso that were stained black. It almost looked like a field dressing for a sword wound.

    Krayson frowned. A skindancer wouldn't have killed its victim with a weapon, but he didn't know how else to explain a wound like that. It would've gone right through the skin's original owner's heart.

    "I'm not him," the skindancer whispered. "I'm not Zhenner."

    "We already know that!" Pacifica snapped.

    "My lady, I'm Lidya. I've always been Lidya." The skindancer's voice changed from that of a boy to a young woman's. "It's me, my lady. I swear it's me."

    "Have some shame, you filth!"   

    Krayson pulled Pacifica away from whoever the person on the ground was supposed to be. His mind was racing, trying to make sense of things. All he could think of was that the world proved itself a stranger place than he could imagine at every juncture. He pushed Pacifica into Starra's arms. "Here. Hold her. It's time to get some answers."

    Starra's fangs were bared. "Don't believe anything it says, Krayson. Skindancers were purposefully made to be deceivers."

    "So I once said of vampires," Krayson replied. "Empress Enfri's command stands. None of our lives are in danger."   

    Starra and Pacifica gaped at him as if he'd lost his mind. They might not have been far off the mark, but Krayson didn't understand enough of what was going on to take rash action. He returned to the skindancer and knelt down.

    "Now's your chance to speak up for yourself. I suggest you take it."

    Tears continued to run down the stolen face. "My name is Lidya Huscarl. I'm a maid to Princess Pacifica Romov of Ecclesia."

    Krayson shook his head. "That's not true. Lidya's remains are awaiting a pyre. She is dead, and you are the primary suspect to her murder."

    "I didn't kill her. I am her."

    "Liar," Pacifica snarled. "Lidya was with me for three years."

    "And I never once forgot you like one sugar and no milk in your jasmine tea," the skindancer said, sniffling. "I remember the day you were told you had to choose a husband, that you chose Lord Bannlyth for the good of your house, and how you fell in love with him through your letters."

    Pacifica pulled against Starra's grip. "Many people know that. It proves nothing."

    "I looked for you after your betrothal to Lord Bannlyth was cancelled and Lord Rodrik asked you to marry him. Margo and I found you in the harbor, soaking wet and with a girl we didn't know yet. We didn't say, but we knew. You tried to kill yourself by throwing yourself from the cliffs."

    Pacifica went still, her eyes wide with shock.

    "I am a skindancer," it said, it's voice like a young woman trembling, "but you never knew the person who first wore Lidya Huscarl's skin. It was me from our first meeting, my lady."

    Krayson looked back to Pacifica. "Is this true about the cliff?"

    She looked down and gave a hesitant nod. Starra rubbed her shoulders to give comfort.

    "Would anyone but your maids know about it?" Krayson asked.

    "No," Pacifica said hoarsely. "I... Only Reyn and I knew. Or so I thought."

    Krayson turned back to the captive. "If you're saying the truth, and you were always Pacifica's maid, where did you get her skin?"

    The skindancer looked away. "She was a criminal. She cornered me in an alleyway and pulled a knife. My old skin was almost used up. I couldn't pass off why it had so many cuts that didn't bleed anymore. So I took the mugger's."

    "And that criminal was the original Lidya?"

    "I don't know what her name was. I chose the name because I liked it. I thought it was something that could be mine. Truly mine."

    "Is that what I should call you, then? Would you prefer I use female pronouns for you?"

    The skindancer's face contorted and began to cry again. She nodded.

    Krayson was somewhat grateful for blood magic making it difficult for him to feel certain emotions. By the look on Saveen's face, she was already being swayed by Lidya's claims, but Krayson wasn't yet ready to absolve her of anything. Starra called her kind deceivers, and that was a warning Krayson meant to take to heart.

    "When Lidya first came into the palace," Pacifica said quietly, "she had no references. No letters of recommendation, and no one in the city knew her. It was like she'd walked out of the forest fully formed. But, she was so sweet-natured. She won the stewards over and was hired to the kitchen staff. After a year, put on the house staff. Waves and tides, why did you come here?"

    Lidya shook her head. "I wanted behind the walls. I wanted to have as many walls as I could have between me and what's coming. Swords, spells, and the paladins to use them between me and the dark. I can hear them. Whispering. The old masters are stirring."

    Krayson shivered. Must've been from kneeling on the product of Pacifica's cryomancy. "Saveen, let her up."

    Starra let go of Pacifica and stepped forward. "Brother Joshuan..."

    "And you will keep a somatic at the ready," Krayson told her. "Now, Goodwoman Huscarl, tell me why you're wearing the skin of a stable boy."

    Once Saveen stepped off of Lidya's arms, she went back to her tiny form and flew to Pacifica's shoulder. Lidya sat up and arranged herself to sit cross-legged.

    "It's a long story, and you won't believe me."

    Starra scoffed.

    Krayson nodded. "Clearly, we will remain skeptical. Answer the question."

    "Two weeks ago," she said softly, "I was with Margo. It was night, and we were coming back to the palace from the artisan quarter." She covered her face with her hands and sobbed. "There were two of them. They were waiting for us."

    "Other skindancers."

    "He took Margo before I could blink. He... killed her."

    "And you?"

    "I ran. The other one stabbed me, but it couldn't hurt me. Only fire can hurt me."

    Krayson looked to Starra, and she nodded in confirmation.

    "He chased me all the way to the palace. My skin was coming apart. He'd torn it, and it was only tearing more. I dropped out of the skin and climbed the walls. I wasn't thinking. I only wanted to get away."

    "Two servants of the old masters came to Ecclesia," Krayson said to himself to order it all in his mind. "They chose two maids to serve as their disguise, only unbeknownst to them, one of the maids was already a skindancer."

    "Why run?" Starra asked incredulously. "They were your own kind."

    "They're not my kind," Lidya hissed. "I've never known another like me. Only my parent, and they left me on my own before I even knew how to take a skin."

    "Skindancer's reproduce through molting," Starra said. "We know little of what happens after they... shed... their young. The predominant theory is the parent teaches its offspring how to survive before setting out on its own."

    Lidya scowled. "Maybe they didn't want me. Maybe they couldn't be bothered. All I remember of them is waking up knowing nothing and seeing something I knew I should recognize walking away."

    "How long ago?" Krayson asked. "How old are you?"

    Lidya shrugged.

    "How did you survive with nothing to guide you?"

    She held a hand to the side of her head. "They told me how. They whisper. The old masters whisper all the time. They're whispering now."

    Krayson leaned forward. "What are they saying?"

    Lidya looked up to meet his eyes. "They're telling me to kill you. Kill you and die for killing you."

    Krayson waited for her to move. To attack. He expected it and braced for it. An incantation was waiting on the tip of his tongue, and his hands were ready to pour spellfire out in a scorching inferno. She never did.

    "You don't listen to them?" Krayson asked. "Why not?"

    "Because they hate me. Why should I listen to them if they hate me?"

    Krayson thought she had a point with that one. "Very well. Once you climbed into the palace, you were in your natural form, correct?"

    She nodded. "When I looked down from the top of the walls, I saw them. One had already become Margo and picked up my skin and my clothes. The other just stared up at me. I ran away, and I didn't stop until I was in the garden."

    "Ascania's garden?" Pacifica asked.

    "Just my luck, that was where they were going. When they came in, one was Margo and the other was Zhenner. His tunic was covered in blood. They must have caught him in the stables and killed him."

    Krayson frowned. The story was starting to diverge from the one he thought he knew.

    "I stayed low to the ground," Lidya said. "I kept quiet, and I watched them. I watched them try to force the crown prince's tomb open, and then... and then..."

    "What happened?" Pacifica asked, coming closer. "Lidya, you have to tell us."

    "Then he broke the sepulcher open. I never saw anything move so fast before, not even me. Before I blinked, Zhenner was thrown into the sea. Margo ran, and he chased after her."

    Krayson felt the hairs on his neck standing on end. "Who chased after her?"

    "Crown Prince Dashar."

    Laughter filled the throne room. Krayson looked over his shoulder and found Starra nearly doubled over in amusement.

    "Bloody hell," Starra said, wiping at the corner of her eye, "it actually had me going for a moment."

    "It's true," Lidya insisted. "Once they were gone, I left. I knew I had to get out of the palace while I looked like the real me. Then, I found Zhenner. He was naked and lying on his face in the stables, dead. I thought I could take his skin, and no one would know I wasn't him." She lowered her eyes again. "I wouldn't have to leave. I'd be him, but I always liked Zhenner. He knew so much about horses and would talk for hours about them with me if I let him."

    "You said he was thrown into the sea," Starra pointed out. "No going back on your lies, skindancer. Really, it shows you truly were an abandoned puppy. The real ones are much more clever with their alibis."

    Krayson didn't know why, but Starra's mocking tone irritated him. It made him feel the need to argue on Lidya's behalf. Demon's barrister might have just become a literal term for the first time in living memory.

    "It is an obvious contradiction," he said before turning to look at Starra. "Which makes me think it might actually be true."

    "Do try to explain it, please," Starra prompted.

    "The Zhenner Lidya first saw wasn't Zhenner. Nor was it a skindancer wearing his skin. Either a doppler or a talented kits. Lidya found the real Zhenner in the stables where the shifter left his body." He looked back to Lidya. "It's starting to all fit. Two shifters, a skindancer and a likely doppler. Lidya wasn't stabbed with venom but with a blade that damaged her skin so she was forced to abandon it. Two skins entered the palace, one worn and one carried. And the doppler was forced to alter their plan by killing the stable boy, likely using the imposter Margo as a distraction or even bait. Then, together and disguised, they went to Ascania's garden to collect Dashar's body. Except, something else went wrong. The crown prince wasn't dead."

    Pacifica shook her head. "But he was. Enfri did everything she could to save him, but she couldn't. Dashar died from the wound Josy gave him while dominated by Master Deveaux."

    "Did he?" Krayson asked. "Dashar was a blood mage— a blood mage high enough in society that he had access to the Sanguine Fraternal Order. It's no stretch of the imagination that he might have learned some of the spells used by blood runners. That includes the sustaining spells, so he need not eat or drink for extended periods, or the deathless spell, that allows him to enter a death-like stasis while his body heals."

    Starra shifted her feet. "I don't like that it's starting to sound plausible."

    "The oren," Pacifica gasped. "Jin once told me Dashar could go much longer than the other assassins before he needed to take oren. She confided in me she wished she could learn what method he used."

    "The answer to that question is blood magic," Krayson said. "What does your elder magic tell you, Pacifica?"

    She sank down to her knees, her eyes haunted. "He's not dead. Dashar Algara is alive."

    Saveen shook her wings. "Flames. Someone needs to tell Princess Maya."

    Krayson raised an eyebrow at her.

    "Oh, right. Witch. Guess that means it'll be me giving a sending to Zanda."

    "Once the hour is late enough and she may be alone," Krayson said. "Wait until after sunset, Saveen, then tell her the Dashar in the palace might not be an imposter."

    "Might not?" Starra asked.

    "Lidya didn't see Dashar kill the Margo imposter, and the Lost Company recovered both skins. Pacifica, you identified them. What state were they in?"

    Pacifica hugged her arms around herself and shuddered. "Lidya's..." She looked towards the skindancer. "Yours... was ripped up. Margo's was undamaged."

    "Meaning Dashar didn't catch the skindancer before it abandoned the skins. It fled in its natural form, and there's no guarantee he killed it. It's possible it was able to kill him first. For real, this time."

    Pacifica shook her head. "No, Krayson. It isn't."

    He looked to her in question.

    Pacifica met his gaze. "You never met him, so believe me when I tell you. The only reason he fell in the first place was because he chose to die rather than strike Josy down. When Dashar Algara fights in earnest, he wins."

    "There's still the other," Krayson said. "A fall off the cliff might not be enough to kill a doppler."

    "Not a proteurim doppler," Starra said. "Modern, mostly-human dopplers are as fragile as we are."

    "I survived it," Pacifica said.

    "With selkie aid. Remind me to give my dear one a kiss for that. But don't worry, my lady. I'll keep it between us what it's for."

    Pacifica took Starra's hand and held it tight. "Thank you. If I know Reyn, she'd rather no one know how heroic she really is."

    Starra hummed agreement. "One of the reasons I fell for your former handmaiden, my lady. I do admire humility."

    Krayson didn't believe that for one second.    "The point remains. The doppler might have taken Dashar's blood from the sepulcher. They could have accepted the price of becoming a blood mage if that was the only way to survive the fall. If their shifting works as you told me, and if Dashar is as invincible as Pacifica believes, then there could very well be two Dashars wandering the Five Kingdoms right now."

    Starra blew out her lips in resignation. "Leaving us to spin our heads over which is real if we ever find them both. Bloody hell, but this certainly turned into a mess. I was never all that convinced the world had enough room for one of that man."

    "My lady, if there's a way to tell if someone is a doppler, now is the time to tell me."

    "I'm sorry, Krayson. I'm sure there must be a way, except I don't know it. None of my friends ever passed anything like that along, not that I blame them."

    Pacifica had been scooting closer to Lidya throughout the conversation. Krayson didn't notice it until she was close enough to reach out and touch her.

    "So, this is you, Lidya?"

    "Yes, my lady," she replied, unable to meet her eyes.

    "I'm sorry," Pacifica murmured. "For... the things I said. If you'd like, perhaps there's a way to salvage your old skin. I'm getting better with..." she swallowed her bile. "...flesh essence."

    "There's no use, my lady. Once I'm out of a skin for too long, there's no going back. This vapor that comes out of me, it preserves the skin. Too long away, and it decomposes too much for me to use."

    Starra tapped her fingertips to her chin in consideration. "You know... if I have misjudged skindancers— I'm not saying I have, but if I did— Lidya here could be just the inside source we need to figure out what the old masters are getting up to."

    Pacifica furrowed her brow at Starra. "You don't believe her?"

    "I think what matters is if you do, my lady." She flicked her wrist at Pacifica. "Easy enough to determine. Use your insight. Either you'll get your answer, yes or no, or you'll get no answer at all, just as good as a no. Go on, dear girl. Astonish us with hydromancy."

    Pacifica looked to Lidya and pulled her lips into a line. It didn't take long before her eyes widened, and she smiled. Without reservation, she pulled Lidya into a hug. The skindancer returned it while crying her eyes out.

    "Bloody hell," Starra said under her breath. "Look at that, Krayson. Now I'm the one eating my feet. You must be beside yourself."

    Krayson wasn't sorry to admit he found it immeasurably satisfying. He hoped Enfri would think so, too. Once again, against all odds, her faith in the better natures of people, even the ones she was repeatedly told weren't people at all, was rewarded. A person was what they chose to be, not what they were born to be. That proved to be the case with mortals, dragons, shifters, and...

    "Fey!" Krayson shouted. It was sudden and loud enough to make all the women with him jump. "Thundering fey and their noses. Show Dashar to a fey, and they'll be able to tell us if he's the real one."

    "Oh, flames," Saveen grumbled. "Does this mean we're going to have to smuggle a goblin into the Palace of Towers?"

    "It's possible a fey could scent a doppler out," Starra allowed. "But... without a frame of reference, I imagine it would have to be a fey who's smelled Dashar before."

    Pacifica slapped her forehead. "I know one. Waves, but Ban is not going to go for this."