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‘Why would Torveis lie about all that?’ said Hector.

‘Maybe because the Hun’Sho have been stealing our shit,’ said Garovel. ‘Look at this fucking place. There’s probably enough treasure in all these rooms to buy a country.’

‘They didn’t seem like they cared much about money.’

‘They didn’t seem like they cared much about ANYTHING. Which makes me think they were hiding what they cared about.’

‘Hmm, but what would they even need all this treasure for? They’ve just been sitting in Himmekel for a thousand years, right?’

‘Well, if I had to guess, I’d say they’re hoarding treasure in order to fund some sort of great revival of their people. In that sense, maybe Torveis wasn’t lying. Maybe “Avar’s return” is to be interpreted more metaphorically.’

‘Didn’t sound like he was being metaphorical...’

‘Maybe he believes in it literally, despite it nonetheless being intended to be taken metaphorically.’

‘Wouldn’t that mean he wasn’t lying to us?’

‘Not about Avar, maybe, but still about how he was able to recognize a bird. That was horseshit, for sure.’

‘You seem really determined to not like the Hun’Sho.’

‘I’m an untrusting bastard like that.’

Hector had to bob his head a little at that. ‘Maybe we both are.’

‘Good, then. So you agree that the Hun’Sho are suspicious as hell.’

‘I don’t know. I still want to like the Hun’Sho, kinda. I mean, they can’t all be bad, right? They’re still individuals, same as us.’

‘Yeah, yeah, fine. If you wanna be all non-racist about it.’

Hector just breathed a quiet laugh.

‘Holy crappity!’ the reaper suddenly exclaimed, making Hector turn briefly to look at him. ‘I do believe I’m looking at the Shifting Spear of Logante! Hector, come pick this thing up!’

He hesitated but kept Mr. Sheridan within line of sight as he moved toward Garovel.

The Intarian man seemed to be preoccupied with coins now, despite having disregarded them earlier. He was holding them directly up to the visor of his suit and squinting, probably trying to read whatever was engraved on them.

Hector saw the “spear” that Garovel was pointing at. He plucked it out of a silvery pile and discovered it to be far shorter than he’d expected. It was barely bigger than a flashlight, though the blade had an admirable golden sheen to it.

‘It’s, uh... kinda small, isn’t it?’ said Hector.

‘Say, “Grokoh.”’

‘Excuse me?’

‘“Grokoh.” Say it aloud. Right now.’

“Uh... G-Grokoh.”

The spear immediately extended to five times its size, though Hector noticed its weight had barely changed at all.

“...Huh,” was all he had to say.

‘Now say, “Sworok,”’ said Garovel.

“Sworok.”

The spear changed shape entirely, and in the blink of an eye, Hector was holding a sword instead.

‘Pretty neat, eh?’

‘Yeah, sure, but... ah... Garovel, this seems kinda useless.’

‘What? It’s not--’ The reaper paused. ‘It’s, uh...’

‘...Can it do anything else?’

‘Sure. It can transform into all sorts of different melee weapons.’

‘...That’s great, Garovel. Real helpful.’

‘Shut up, it’s cool! I’m sure the designer just didn’t intend for it to be wielded by a materialization user!’