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“Thank you for coming yourself. I’ll let you know if the conclave discovers anything,” she told Pyetar.

He glanced at her cousins, that mask hardening a bit more. His voice lowered. “Be careful until then.”

She nodded. “You too, and tell the others I say… hang in there.”

His lips tilted. “Of course.” Then he was throwing on the last few layers, strapping on his snowshoes, and heading out into the frigid cold.

As the door shut, Iryana heard her cousins whispering, and she walked up to them and sat down on the opposite side of the table. They shut their mouths tight.

“You have to realize that we need the brigades at this point, don’t you?” Iryana asked them, trying not to sound too frustrated. “Wouldn’t it be better to try to believe he’s not what you think? That most of them aren’t.”

“If there was a worst time for them to screw us over, it’s now,” Edvar droned pessimistically.

Iryana tensed. “It would be the worst time for them to lose our support as well.”

“There are just… things that are hard to see past.” Kladara chewed on her lip.

“Like what?”

Her cousins exchanged a look before Edvar said, “A couple of years ago, I snuck out of the post. I heard our mom say they were struggling to negotiate an exchange with one of the settlements in military territory. The brigade wanted more money. I thought I could find the settlement and make the trade on my own, help the clan…”

“But I caught him sneaking out,” Kladara added. “He refused to go back, so I went with him.”

Iryana didn’t like where this was going.

“We didn’t even make it out of the Yuresh Valley.” Edvar slumped in his seat. “We ran into some soldiers, and we recognized Pyetar. He ordered us to go back.”

“He formed his metal-forging and held it to Edvar’s throat,” Kladara added, seething. “He was a complete ass, making us turn around.”

Iryana searched for a good explanation. “He was responsible for our post staying in line back then. The two of you trespassing in their territory would have looked bad on him, so…”

“Don’t defend him, cousin,” Kladara demanded sharply.

Iryana took a slow breath and nodded, even though she wanted to argue. As her cousins got up and left, Iryana watched them. Just last Mud Moon, Iryana had nearly taken an opportunity to kill Pyetar when they were alone in the woods during a dakii attack. If she’d had that much anger, it wasn’t surprising that her clan was still struggling. They likely had just as much, if not more, baggage with him.

A few days into the Endless Moon, the conclave arrived in a large, covered, water-imbued sled with fire-imbued wood paneling. Their team of sled dogs was huge enough that they’d had to clear a whole pasture for them far from the wall. It was amazing that they’d made it with the raging snowstorm. While the Endless Moon brought longer days, it also brought plummeting temperatures and more snow.

Iryana was desperate for answers and any information, but the conclave didn’t seem to be in a rush. It was maddening.

“Tell us again,” Grand Keeper Gyerhna ordered Iryana.

They sat in the side hall, blankets in their laps and steaming pine-needle tea in their hands. From the beginning of the meeting, the conclave had only asked about Thelbiz. All three had come again, and thankfully, this time the First was present.

Iryana tried to be patient, but she wanted to get to the news from the duchess and to the news about her double-forged magic. Still, she described Thelbiz to them again.

Every bit of the visit so far had seemed arduous.

It had been a struggle to clear rooms that were warm enough for the Grand Keepers and the Scholar. Everyone who didn’t have a fireplace in their room, Iryana included, was already sleeping in the main hall or kitchen, where the fires burned high day and night. Aunt Emadya and Uncle Byorsh had given up their room and so had Tonhald and his family. Tonhald, Teshya, and little Anara were given the coveted spot over the great oven. The house felt packed.

“It’s so strange,” Grand Keeper Kresik rasped. “Was he carrying anything on him? Supplies, weapons? I suppose he had his magic.”

Iryana was tired of humoring them.

“The three of you should know more about Thelbiz and Noshtiz than anyone.” Iryana attempted to get them talking. “From Mhakiza’s vision, I don’t trust Noshtiz.”

“Of course we would trust Thelbiz. Balance is best for all of us,” Grand Keeper Kresik said, his ancient, raspy voice almost offended.

“Even if balance requires all our deaths?” Scholar Alar asked, speaking for the first time the entire meeting. He seemed to be taking it surprisingly well that the god he served had turned out to be the villain.