“It pains me to see these put to use in this way,” she said, studying the bezoars. “We could cure the world with these, heal almost every known ailment. But I have no choice. The dozens we could save today pales in comparison to the thousands and millions we could save tomorrow.”

But I could not imagine how raising an army of daeva could save so many people; I feared the opposite held true and said as much.

“Imagine a world filled with daeva like my friend over there.” The taurvi basked happily in the sun, tongue lolling over the black sand. “Imagine the lives potentially lost by their rampages, by the people’s fear.”

She lifted up a ruby-red bezoar from the akvan she had slain only days before. “Now imagine that these daeva can be tamed. Imagine how, under a benevolent ruler, they could right everything wrong in all the kingdoms. We could use the daeva to rid ourselves of the Faceless once and for all. We could fill the world with runeberries, see that no one would go hungry or thirsty ever again. We could punish the tyrants of Drychta for your grief. Where would you like to begin?”

“I am more concerned,” I said, “of knowing where it will end.”

She laughed, a mirthless sound. “Where it always ends, Bard. With me.”