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In one corner is a tall work desk of white wood. There are a few items on the desk. A small silver incense holder, empty of incense. Two bottles each labelled. The labels are written in a language that Kerik cannot read. It’s not Magaar. But it looks similar. Probably Old Magaar.

The final item on the desk is a small lidded pot that seems to be made of carved marble. The lid is set with a large blue gemstone. Kerik lifts off the lid. It is oddly heavy. Inside the pot is a ring. Kerik plucks it out. It’s a thick, carved piece of silver. Unadorned but beautifully made. This ring is surely magical in some way. When he inspects it more closely he sees that inside is written the words ‘Silence for Secrets’.

Kerik slips the ring onto the middle finger of his left hand. He expects something to happen. But nothing does. He looks back to Perl. Wondering if putting on the ring would have woken him. But he is still sleeping.

Disappointed that the ring he was so sure was magical has done nothing, he decides to see what else he can find in Perl’s chambers. Along with the door that leads to the passageway outside, the one Perl sealed with magic, there are two others. One of them leads to the beautiful bathing chamber with the pool shaped like a blooming rose. Kerik goes to inspect the other door. It is unlocked and leads only to a small dressing space.

There are shelves lining the walls but most of them are empty. It seems Perl does not own many other items of clothing. Kerik looks down at the sleeping shirt he wears. Did Perl bring it from this chamber? Is this Perl’s own? Is that why he is sleeping in his leather outfit?

But Vane had produced fresh linens for the bathing chamber with magic. So perhaps Perl produced Kerik’s sleeping attire also using magic, or certainly could have done, and could have produced one for himself, but for some reason, still chose to sleep in his restrictive outfit.

On one of the dressing chamber shelves is a small basket. In it are two hip cloths. Both simple, plain white linen and rather small. They would fit Perl’s narrow hips, Kerik thinks. Although he cannot think that Perl has much call for wearing a hip cloth.

There’s nothing else of interest in the dressing chamber. Kerik leaves and looks around the room. Does Perl really have so few possessions? Perhaps this is simply the way of the faeries. If things can simply be created with magic there is no need for them to be stored ready for use and all the faeries keep their chambers so bare.

If he is to escape whatever fate Perl has planned for him and learn more secrets about the faerie realm he needs to leave this chamber. But Perl cast extra wards on the door. Kerik walks toward it. He can see the faint glow of magic.

When Kerik is close enough, he reaches out and touches the door with his hand. He feels a distinct sensation. A warm pleasure he is sure means magic. A spark inside him, almost like a small spend.

This door is locked by magic. But he saw Perl do that magic. He saw the way Perl waved his hand. What would happen if Kerik just did the same?

He feels it like an instinct, like something he once learned to do, but long ago, so long ago he does not remember. Like something from another life. He waves his hand at the door and hears a soft click.

The feeling that rushes through him along with that sound is so intense he gasps. His body sags as he leans his forehead to the door. He is panting. But when he catches his breath, he realises the door is moving as he leans against it. The door is opening. Kerik steps back in shock. But the door before him is ajar. Did he do that? Did he just perform magic?

He has faerie blood and he can perform magic. So it’s as simple as that. Just a matter of waving in the air. He will be that wizard, he thinks, as he steps through the door.

Outside is an empty passageway, glittering with the same mysterious white light that is everywhere in the Ice Palace.

He looks up and down, taking a long time summoning his courage, but there is no one around. No one. He steps out.

Kerik walks along the passageway in the direction of the Ice Hall. He takes several turns, trying to remember the route they took to return here from the hall.

But it's difficult. All the passageways look the same. It is not long before Kerik is sure he is lost. He has not found his way to the wider corridors that lead to the hall. This place is even more of a maze than the Rose Palace. He turns around, thinking he ought to go back. If he doesn’t, he might not be able to find his way to return to Perl’s chamber.

He hasn’t gone more than a few paces when he hears voices. The first he has heard in these deserted passages. He realises he’s made a mistake. The passage he is in is long and bare, there’s nowhere to hide. He’d grown too bold. Assumed there was no one around and now he’s trapped. He holds his breath as two fae guards walk around the corner.

And react to his presence not at all.

They simply continue walking nearer. There is no way they have not seen him. Why have they not challenged him?

They keep going until they get so close that they appear to be on a path to walk right into him. Kerik realises with a strange excitement that they cannot see him.

As they reach the place where he stands, Kerik presses to the wall of the passage, and the faerie guards walk straight past him.

As he watches their backs vanishing down the passage, he wraps his arms around himself in delight. How has he done this? He knows not. But this is true real magic. This is power.

Newly emboldened, Kerik strolls along the passageways, unconcerned about getting lost and finding his way back to Perl’s chamber. Now it matters not at all where he goes or how long he wanders. He can do as he pleases and if he gets lost, he can simply wander until he finds his way.

How wondrous it would be to use magic like this in the Rose Palace. To stroll unseen through those halls. To spy on handsome men. To take a lover and cast the same spell over him, then receive suck in the Hall of Twelve while Selim conducted his business.

Kerik chuckles to himself at the thought.

But he need not stop at base pleasures. What great power magic like this would be in war. He could command an invisible army. Such a thing would be feared from Ismagaar to The Cradle. Selim would give him anything he wanted in return for such a thing.

He wanders for a long time, thinking these delightful thoughts. Finally he finds some wider corridors where he must be nearing the Ice Hall. He sees many beautiful sights. A great fountain of water that changes colour, rainbowing from red through to yellow to green, purple, then back to red. A long hallway full of silver statues, finer and more detailed than any statues he has ever seen. The wealth of this court is beyond his dreams.

He climbs turrets, ascending long flights of spiralling white stairs. At the top of one he finds the only window he has seen. It is glazed and narrow, the glass so thick the world outside looks misty and unreal, but he can make out a snowy covered land in a greyish light that could be dawn or dusk. There are mountains and the sea in the distance. The same view he saw from the strange invisible chamber where they waited to gain entry to the hall. And across that sea is Ismagaar, beyond that the empire and home. It is odd to think of that, when he is in this mysterious place.