“You look like Mira,” one of the men said to me. He was the only one of them who didn’t appear to be Loiala Fé. He was about six feet tall and had dark hair and eyes. His right hand and forearm had a silvery sheen to it. “But not like Mira. I know this from images I have seen in Nora’s mind. You are not the same, yet I feel that you are she.”
Loiala FéHis comments raised a number of questions, but none of them were as important as the ones I’d already asked.
“Speculate later,” I told him. “Where’s Nora?”
He shared a look with a woman who appeared flustered about something.
“We don’t know!” the woman answered. She looked like she might be Loiala Fé. “She— The spell—” She pointed to a sundial on a pedestal. I could see what appeared to be the hilt of our missing sword embedded in its cen
