Chang-li and Joshi were shown to a Darwur-style round tent and thrust inside.

"There's a guard on this ger. If you try to escape, you will be killed," their escort warned before retreating, leaving them alone.

Joshi looked around. "Well, at least it's clean," he muttered.

The place was stacked with chests and baskets. A pile of strong-smelling blankets lay on one side of the room. Chang-li seated himself atop the pile while Joshi strode about in what little room there was, swearing to himself in Darwur. Eventually, he subsided and took a seat.

Neither spoke. Chang-li was trying very hard not to think about the way his core felt. He needed to get to that tower and learn how to harness whatever was inside him, or get rid of it, and soon. He could feel his core coming unraveled. Not quickly, but little by little, and there didn't seem to be anything he could do about it.

After a long time, the tent flap twitched back. A woman entered. Joshi rose, bowed, and spoke to her in a long, quiet voice. She glanced nervously at him, then away, shaking her head. She had a tray with her and a pitcher, which she set down before backing out of the tent.

"Did you know her?"

Joshi grunted. "One of my brother's wives. She didn't like me, and that was before all this." He picked up the food and brought it over.

Chang-li eyed the pile of small yellow-white squares with trepidation. "What is it?"

"It's called aaruul. It's dried milk curds. They are filling and will keep you alive." Joshi picked one up, popped it in his mouth, and began to chew. He chewed and chewed and chewed, before finally swallowing. "Sometimes they flavor them with berries and herbs. These are not. They are travel rations. And certainly not the best."

Chang-li tried one. It was a very strange texture. Not quite dry. Very chewy in a way that even dried meat couldn't replicate. He swallowed his down at last and considered the plate without much interest. The jug contained clean water, which he shared with Joshi.

They fell into more silence. After a long time, Chang-li asked, "Did you really attempt to assassinate the general?"

"It's a long story," Joshi said.

"We don't have anything else to do here."

Joshi sighed. "I had returned from the monastery at Harupa, expecting to be welcomed back as a teacher of the younger boys. Instead, I found everyone's head so full of war, no one would listen to anything else. My father had just won a great battle, pushing the Imperial Army back a long way, but he was worried about General Li and his forces.

"Then I had a quarrel with my brothers. Temaj, the oldest, stood apart, too good for the rest. But the others jumped me, beat me, saying my time at Harupa had made me weak. By then, I'd lost all my lux. I had only my fist training to fall back on. Against four brothers, I was no match. But I gave as good as I got. Two of my brothers and I were laid up with injuries for a week.

"My father was furious. He rode to his next battle and lost this time. When he returned, he said nothing. Temaj blamed me. Said I had taken away two of their best warrior, that I was weak like my mother. That I was good for nothing. And I would have no place with the Darwur when he succeeded my father.

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"My father stood by and listened. When I asked if he believed the same, he said that in his eyes I was no son of his. Where were my great deeds, my feats of strength in war and battle? My brothers, by the time they were my age, had killed enemies, taken prisoners, won battles. And what had I done? Studied and read books. I tried to say that without lux, I could not cultivate. To which my father said, if I needed lux to be a man, then I was no man at all.

"I was shamed and furious and determined to prove myself to him. I had a mad notion. The Imperial Army enlisted scouts and porters from some of our cousins' clans that no longer wish to live as we do but have joined with the Empire. I speak your language well, as you know.

"So, I left my camp and went and disguised myself as one of those porters. I waited my chance until the general had left on a scouting mission and rode along as one of the horse handlers. Then, when the camp was asleep, I took my knife. I snuck to his tent. I looked down upon him as he slept. Ready to slit his throat and end the war there.

"But—" Joshi stopped.

"But you failed."

"I chose not to strike," Joshi said. "Everything the monks had taught me, everything it meant to be a cultivator, told me that to slay a foe in his sleep was cowardice. My father would have thought the same. Here I was, stooping to assassinate a sleeping man. I turned to go, and that's when his guards, at last, realized something was amiss. They burst into the tent, saw me there with the drawn knife. The general awoke.

"Even if I had tried to explain myself, it wouldn't have mattered. And worse, when I was brought in front of the other scouts, they gave me away as Darwur and the son of the Khan. The general assumed my father had sent me as an assassin. I pleaded that I had not, but he did not believe me. He should have just killed me. Instead, he had me made a slave and sent away. I still don't know why." Joshi's face was filled with bitterness and disgust. "It was what I deserved for such a cowardly act."

Chang-li didn't know what to say. He had a hard time imagining Joshi as assassinating anyone. "But you were trying to save your people," he suggested.

Joshi scoffed. "You are a clever man. What would have happened had I succeeded? Would that have ended the war?"

"No," Chang-li agreed. "The general would have been replaced—or worse, the Emperor might have come."

"I still don't know why the Emperor permits this war to go on when he could surely end it. The only reason we have lasted this long is that we are able to face the Imperial Army on a fair footing, since they, like we, can find no lux in these lands. But the Emperor, or even a single Prism, could split lumos into lux and put an end to everything."

"Then he must want the war to go on," Chang-li said. It had never occurred to him before, but Joshi was right. This war was costly. Chang-li had seen the figures for how much money was spent on it every year, how many soldiers were killed or injured. "He's permitting it. There's a reason."

"Perhaps he uses it to keep his army occupied," Joshi suggested, "so that when he has need of them, they will know how to fight. Or perhaps he knows that the Heart of Ice will open only for my kin, and he is waiting for that."

"Really?" Chang-li asked, diverted. "I've never heard of a tower that limits who it permits in."

"You have never heard of the Heart of Ice," Joshi said, and would say nothing more.

More time passed. Then, at last, the tent flap opened. A woman entered.

It took Chang-li half a second to recognize his own wife, but Min was now dressed in a style of clothing he'd never seen her in. She wore a long one-piece garment of white felt decorated in beadwork of six or seven different colors, none of which would ever be matched on a citizen of the Empire. Green, red, orange, and blue, all together, not signifying anything at all, just arranged into beautiful patterns. The dress fell to about halfway between her knees and her ankles. She wore it awkwardly. Chang-li thought she looked beautiful in it.

"They're coming in a moment," she said briskly. "We've worked out a deal. I'm not sure either of you are going to particularly like it, but it keeps you both alive, so do shut up and accept your fate. You especially, Joshi. Hiroko and I had to argue long and hard for you."

She gave a quick smile. "I quite like Hiroko. That girl knows what she wants. When she's not got her head all mixed up in mystical nonsense about the Emperor, she's downright practical. Now, the two of you stop with that surprised expression and let's prepare."

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