“…No, it couldn’t have been you!” said Sereg out of blue and jerked his head up like a man awakened from a bad dream. “You were with him, crossing Kuldagan, when I discovered the theft of Hora Lunaris. This boy would confirm it, I’m sure. And he is right: you would never fall so low. It’s not your style, it’s not you… You know what, I forgive him. I’ll even give him a licence for his soothstone if you want. Just one more thing, Vlada… I know you can’t lie. Tell me, tell me now, looking me right into the eyes, that you didn’t take Lunaris and don’t know where it is.”

“I didn’t take Lunaris and don’t know where it is,” Vlada nodded.

A sudden realization struck Kangassk then, the moment of truth when all the pieces of the puzzle – little oddities, hints, suspicions – suddenly made sense.

Hora Lunaris! The stone that Kan called “stupid bauble” was one of the legendary magic stabilizers. The worldholders made it. Protecting it with a deadly spell was also their doing. “You can’t lie…” Here you go: Vlada the Warrior Who Can’t Lie. “In my North…” – a threat thrown by Sereg the Grey Inquisitor, the northern lord, no one else.

The wonderful world that had always seemed to be so far from everlasting Kuldaganian boredom, now was as close as it could be.

Kan felt dizzy upon realizing who were the two mages in front of him; who was the pretty girl he’d wished to stay with that night in Tammar; who was the morose guy he’d yelled at not a long time ago…

“What now, Sereg?” Kan heard.

The conversation had been going without him for some time. The worldholders, their recent bitterness gone, sat at the black stone side by side, holding their hands like a couple of enamoured kids and discussing their next move. The tired chargas, curled up in a ball, slept by their feet; the Dead Region remained silent. Not a single living soul in the whole world had noticed Kangassk’s “eureka!” moment.

“Let’s go to my Tower,” said the Grey Inquisitor. “I failed to track the thief while the trail had still been hot, so I guess it’s time for a proper investigation now. I hope we’ll learn something together.”

“May I take Kangassk with me?” asked Vlada the Warrior in exactly same tone a child uses to ask her mother whether she can keep some dirty, scrawny stray kitten. She even added: “Please, Sereg…”

“Oh, all right, for goodness sake…” the mighty mage yielded.

Yes, he allowed her to keep the kitten. Exactly that… Kangassk barely restrained himself from dropping a snarky comment about the situation.

They woke the chargas up. Since there were only two chargas but three people now, everyone travelled on foot. They had at least three days of slow walking in front of them according to the map. Maps don’t take a ton of minor obstacles into account, though, so in reality, journeys always take longer.

They didn’t come very far that day, just far enough to make a camp where it would be absolutely safe from sylphs. Kangassk, however tired he was, had a lot of questions but kept them to himself for the moment. The worldholders spoke quite freely when they thought he wasn’t paying attention and their talk was worth listening to.

Vlada mentioned that “Chasm” again, the shortcut Sereg used to get to the Dead Region quickly, and suggested using it to return to the Grey Tower. The stern northern lord turned pale as she said that.

“No way!” he refused. “You have no idea what’s going on there at the moment. The Jesters are raging. And the Stygian spiders… No, we’re not going back through the Chasm! Period.”