“Only one way to find out,” says Palamedes. Without even thinking about it, he takes the lead and pushes open the broad doors that lead out into the town of Wellstone, at least according to the so-called receptionist. At some point, he may stop to examine this instinct, and what it might say about the person he is, but for now he has other things on his mind.

Unfortunately, the out-of-doors greets them with a veritable wall of heat. Pal pauses on the steps of the hotel, squinting in the sudden brightness. “I’m called Palamedes, by the way. Palamedes Sextus.” The syllables feel correct on his tongue, though he can’t remember speaking them before. “I don’t believe I mentioned that.”