“Your spies have spoken⁠—and have you not already judged us?” The voice of the old dwarf was bitter.

A flicker shot through the eyes of Yolara, again cold grey. The girl reached a trembling hand out to the hem of the priestess’s veils.

“Tell us why you did these things, Songar,” she said. “Why you did them, knowing full well what your⁠—reward⁠—would be.”

The dwarf stiffened; he raised his withered arms, and his eyes blazed.