72

You claim that Chancellor Aton once sent you copies of all the Academy's rarest books to try to persuade you to attend.

"It's a good lie, Jun," Min says, sitting cross-legged on the bed. "It very much is a lie, though. I can hear it in your voice, you know. I can tell when someone's lying. Or speaking a falsehood, rather, even without knowing."

You remember your meeting with Meredith. "Is that a magical talent? I met a mysterious woman who told me you're a mage."

Min blinks at you, several times. "Well," they say. "That's…apparently true, though I have no idea who that is or how she would have known. Yes, it's magic, though I don't think your Royal Arcane Academy would call me a mage. Any more than they'd call you one, if they knew the truth."

"You didn't tell a woman named Meredith about this, then?" you ask, still wrapping your head around the idea.

"I've told no one but you about this since coming to Ithos," Min says, looking concerned. "And I don't recall meeting anyone named Meredith at all."

"But how does it work?" you ask. "You can sense the truth? Automatically?"

"I can sense lies. The truth doesn't distinguish itself." Min sits straighter. "There's an analogy I'm partial to, if you're having trouble imagining it. Do you know the sensation when you hear someone play a note out of tune, and you may not know how to mend it, but you know something's wrong?"

"Well, yes, I do. The analogy isn't addressing me, you understand. It's to help others understand. I'm already familiar with the sensation. If the analogy were addressing me, it would be 'Do you know what your daily life is like, when it happens to you?', and you will allow that that's less compelling. Regardless, perhaps you can imagine why when the news about you and your friends arrived from Ithos, I started hearing rather more notes out of tune than before."

"But you said you don't know what's wrong when you hear that someone's lying," you object, partially to buy yourself time until you can think through the implications of this. "So how could you have known all those little details?"

"I do genuinely do research and interviews," Min says. "And I traveled for a time in your footsteps, remarking on things you might have done and said. When a verse rings false to me, I can revise it until it doesn't. Now, I won't have you thinking I'm omnipotent. I can't divine the future. Predictions aren't true or false until they happen, so they can't register false to me. And there's a certain amount of room for…subjectivity, description. Artistic embellishment. Not all truths are so simple. I would not try to claim that everything is either one thing or another." They laugh lightly. "Clearly. But quite a few things are simpler than liars like to make them out to be. And I know beyond a doubt that your story is one of them."

It's hard to think of a response, hard to sort through all your thoughts at all. Princess Despina was one thing. Letha was involved there, a known quantity. There's no way to tell what to make of Min.

Next

Before either of you can say anything else, you hear screaming coming from outside. Something in the tone is different than it was when the audience panicked at Min's performance earlier. You and Min race to the window to discover that the sky has gone almost completely black, much darker than it should be for early evening.

You darkened the sky above Pasema once, though it would have stretched your powers too far to spread the illusion much beyond the portal itself. There's no doubt in your mind what this means. The portal is opening, and the demons are coming. Any distant hope that the prophecy isn't repeating itself is gone.

"I have to go find Alvis," you say, stepping back toward the door.

Min is still staring out the window, even more transfixed than you. "Wait," they say. "I wasn't done, Jun. There's more to say, about what's happening right now. I came to Ithos for a reason, and I think I can help you end this peacefully if you hear me out."