Palamedes nods slowly, pressing his hands together as he gathers up these desperately-desired scraps of information, analyzing them, cataloging them away. Cam is injured by alive, and Pal sends a prayer of thanks to the God whose grace he no longer believes in. Ianthe had been unexpectedly helpful. Cytherea was dead.

And Harrow and Gideon…

He can no longer avoid the obvious, dreadful conclusion that Gideon has been hinting at. “You’re saying Harrow became a lyctor.” He rubs the bridge of his nose. “She used the same method Ianthe did, didn’t see? Damn it, if we’d had just a little more time. I’m sorry, Nav. I’m so very sorry.”