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Vane smiles. “Ah yes. There you are.” Vane’s voice sounds strained. As if speaking is difficult. Or something is difficult. Was he hurt in Jareleezi’s attack? Kerik can’t remember.

“Are you here to kill me?” Kerik says.

“No, actually. Although I probably should. That creature. The woman. She had the same eyes as you without your crude glamour. Another faeblood. And she created a blood door by ripping power out of you. She some kind of relative of yours?”

“I suppose she is. Distantly.”

“I see,” Vane says. He sounds shaky under his usual cruel dismissive tone.

“Are you hurt?” Kerik says.

“Not hurt no, but…” he pauses, as if struggling to explain something, “there are ties, of a sort, that bind me to Ulla. I should not be able to leave, but—” he stops again and makes a soft grunting noise.” Now, however, I have a little additional power from that — I don’t know what you’d call it — the foul dust from Perl’s dead father. My current abilities won’t last and are quite painful to use for this, but it is enough for me to pull my bonds tight for a while. You are only in Ismagaar, did you know? If she’d have the sense to take you further away I wouldn’t have been able to reach you.” Kerik looks at Vane. He can see it. The light golden chains he wears around his body seem tauter, glowing slightly with magic. Those chains are not purely decorative. Those chains bind him.

“Why are you here? Just more entertainment?”

“Not really, no. I don’t care about many creatures in this world, thrall. And that witch wiped out half of them.”

“Perl,” Kerik says, ice in his belly.

“No, Perl is, I suppose, he is currently alive. But, Diamanda and Seridil were killed. Both because they were protecting me, actually. I’m very unhappy about it.”

“You care about Seridil? I thought you just took him from Perl to torment him.”

“You think Perlash of such great importance to me?”

“You hate Perl because his birth condemned you to live in Vylenor.”

“I don’t hate Perlash. And he is thinking far too much of himself if he believes he is the only reason Exeinil took me hostage.” Vane shakes his head. “As for why I took Seridil… I suppose someone had to. No one else would look at that thing after it’d been to the pit. But even after that place it had a little spirit. And what it’d done with Perl. It was quite fascinating. I grew fond of it. It is a sweet thing really. It was.”

“He betrayed Perl. He disobeyed you before the entire court.”

“Correct. It always did have a flair for drama. And of course it hated Perl. However, no one kills my fucking thrall.”

Kerik wonders if that is the simple truth of it.

“And, in any case, then there was Diamanda,” Vane continues, voice sounding heavier. “She is the best of that worthless family by a considerable margin. She is dead. That’s why I’m here. I can’t have that creature succeed can I? Not after her savagery in the Ice Hall.”

“You’re going to kill Jareleezi?”

“No,” Vane says bluntly. And Kerik can see it now. The strain it is taking just for him to be here. He is shaking a little, his expression a taut mask. He could not kill Jareleezi even if he wished to. He can barely stand. “I know Perl didn’t mean that to happen. I told you, I know him well. He’d never bring that thing willingly into Vylenor. But he will die for it. Exeinil is wild with grief for Diamanda. So…” Vane pulls a small silvered glass from the air with a grunt of effort. “Now, there’s your Master.” He turns the glass to Kerik and Kerik sees, not his own reflection in the glass, but Perl. Perl is confined just as he is. His cell is quite familiar. He is chained inside a block of ice.

This is a fae torture method.

He looks paler than ever. Ruined. He still has the cuff on his wrist that prevents his magic.

Kerik looks up at Vane. “Why are you showing me this? To punish me?”

“You really think that I would make all the effort to come here just to gloat.” Vane breaks off, with a gasp of pain. He looks up at Kerik and his voice is a rough whisper. “Believe me I have far better things to be doing with my time, far less unpleasant things.”

“Then what is this for?”

Perl looks at Kerik with his strange black eyes. “Perl won you in the four tests set by the Queen of Ulla. There is a great power in that. It's more powerful than even the fae of the Ice Court know, that kind of bond. On Ulla they do not study the ancient rough magic the way we do at the Timeless Court. All those tests you performed combined with your power and your possession of him. Quite something.”

“My possession of him? Doesn’t he possess me? I am his thrall.”

‘Oh, but you are not. No. It is very clear how that bond goes. It was the reason I wanted you to perform the tests of devotion, I suppose. To explore a theory. Perl is yours. You are not bound to him, he is bound to you. He is your thrall. It is more than a simple title. It is a magical thing. A tithe. You completed the four tests of devotion in Vylenor and that made you his Master. He must obey you.”

“What theory? What does that mean?” Kerik says, but he thinks he is starting to understand. He still has power. He might not be able to command the power to make his magic work, but maybe he doesn’t need that.