“But not impossible,” Qurrah said. All eyes went to him. He had seemed mentally absent the whole meeting, and had not previously spoken.

“I take it conversing with dead is a hobby of yours?” Tarlak asked.

“I consider it a profession. The dead talk same as the living, and the dead can’t lie.”

Brug made a show of throwing up his hands and rolling his eyes. “Wonderful people you brought into our fold, Tar.”

“Shut up, Brug. I’ll leave it up to you all, then. Kill if you want, but let’s not be sloppy or stupid.” Tarlak started packing his maps. “Meet in this room by nightfall. And come prepared. Tonight, we’re going to have some fun!”

Q urrah spent the day meeting with Tessanna. He brought food wrapped in another small blanket for her to use during the chilly nights. She was sitting outside when he arrived, staring at the sky.

“I almost took a quick trip to the fountain,” she said, her voice distant and emotionless. “But I figured I am too popular with certain men right now.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked. He unwrapped the pieces of bread, bacon, and hard cheese. She blinked at it and shook her head.

“I don’t need to eat, at least, not often,” she said. “Bring me something three mornings from now.” She held up her right hand, showing him a simple wooden band around her ring finger. “It looks plain,” she said, her voice almost bored. “My family handed it down for generations. It helped them survive famine. I only have to eat once every six days.”

Qurrah sat down opposite her. He awkwardly fumbled for words, for he had many questions, and he wished to ask them all at once.

“Where is your family?” he finally asked.

Her black eyes grew darker, the white at the edges deepening to gray.

“I have no family,” she said. The apathy slowly faded into anger. An animalistic being controlled the girl’s voice. “My mother died giving birth to me. My father died later, along with my stepmother. I have no family.”