Page 167 of The Thief and the Traitor Bride

“Is that possible?” Nore asked. Her brain was already aching with the theory of it, but she felt she had a fairly decent grip on the Idistran system by now. Good enough to be of some help, at least.

“I don’t know,” Terlo said. “I don’t think there’s been a system resurrected like this before, and I’m a typic myself…”

Nore glanced across the room at the other two, still gossiping by the door. “Hand commander.”

“Just Ola.” Ola sighed.

She hesitated, recalling the details of the rumors she’d heard against the information she’d confirmed. “You’re the commander’s Hand, but he doesn’t pull from you—he only uses Locke’s power, doesn’t he? You’re his decoy Hand.”

Ola looked at her, measured. “I do more than that, you know. Even though Kier doesn’t technically need me, I’m still the commander of the Isle’s wells. We have a more evenly balanced structure than the mainland.”

“Yes, of course,” she said, trying to smooth over whatever assumption she’d stumbled into. “You’re still a well, then. That part is not a farce.”

“That I am.”

“Does power feel… different when you’re near the High Lady?”

Ola seemed to think about this for a moment. “I…” She wrinkled her nose. “I think it’s hard to say, but it’s certainly stronger on Locke…”

“Or in proximity to her,” Caspian said. “I think that’s the impossibility. How to tell her apart from the Isle.”

Terlo got up and set to pacing. “But there’s the thing. As far as I’ve always understood, the sovereign of the Isle is meant to be a conduit, not the root. Yes, power should follow her whims, but not to this degree.”

“Then I suppose we need to figure out a way to fix that,” Nore said.

“And if we don’t?” Caspian muttered, looking at the sheer volume of books on the table—and probably knowing, like she did, that there was no guarantee an answer resided there.

Nore shot him a look. “She never marries, they kill the commander or Locke herself, and the whole system collapses, leaving a power vacuum behind.”

“And I thought I was dramatic,” Brit muttered from the door.

Nore loved plans. She was not as well-versed in anything requiring magic, but this was Caspian at the height of his expertise. She had truly always loved to see the way he functioned, to see the pattern of his thoughts—truthfully, when she had worked for Edith and Celestine, she’d wondered what it would be like to see him as a spy.

She thought of that now with some bitterness.

Nore realized by the first afternoon of their work that the theories Caspian and Terlo were working on required a great deal of both theoretical and practical understanding of magic—which Nore, unfortunately, did not possess. As they kept on with that, she turned back to their original mission—and there was something there that Nore couldn’t quite solve. When the Viper came to check on them that afternoon, she made one final request of him; though he looked unhappy with it, he agreed. Soon after, Master Ilfraiti, the next in command after the Viper and Ola, came bearing a thick packet of papers: the reports and letters that Nore had stolen from Celestine’s office.

Nore pored over them, trying to solidify a theory.

Celestine had sent Caspian with Nore to Idistra because it would’ve been difficult for her to reach the Isle herself, yes; and because she and Gail had needed a mage… But Celestine definitely had other mages at her disposal. If she had Loren, Locke’s guard, already in her pocket, she certainly had others.

So Celestine really had wanted Caspian, and if that was to be believed, she wanted Caspian for his talents. Celestine perhaps did not know he could see magic, but she knew he was talented with artifacts, and a thief at that—so she probably genuinely had wanted the medallion she’d sent Caspian to steal. She had not only wanted the spell, otherwise Caspian served no purpose—and Celestine didn’t do anything without a purpose.

Nore ran a thumb over her lower lip, watching Cas as he read and took notes. She was certain there was something obvious she was missing—and yet.

She went back to the Nestrian reports. Nore worked, drawing connections, until Caspian all but carried her to bed. The next morning, when he woke for practice, she went back to her work.

A problem. A challenge. A puzzle Nore would not leave unsolved.

Instead of returning to the work room, Nore redirected. She hadn’t been alone for much time since they’d started on their task, and she couldn’t fight the feeling she was missing something. She stole to her room for her coat and then set off into the frigid wind and bracing rain.

It took her a while to get to Osar in this weather, but when she reached the temple, it was mostly empty. Nore found a quiet space to sit near one of the pillars, in front of the tapestry. The Sacrifice of Lady Aban.

Nore drew her knees to her chest and stared up at the tapestry. At the tearing waves and sea, at the sorrow on the High Lord’s face, the fear on his sister’s.

And yet, in all of it, there was something like hope.

The Sacrifice of Aban. The Banishment of Aban.