Limerence found Vell waiting exactly where they'd agreed, leaning against a pillar like he'd been there for hours.
"You're early," she said, stepping out of the thin shimmer of her vanishing powder.
"You're lucky elves don't rely on scent. You reek of that stuff." Vell pinched his nose. "You smell like a fireworks accident."
"Please," she waved a hand, "I smell like mystery."
"What did you find?" Vell asked.
Limerence let out a slow breath. "The queen is really gone. But no one, not even the high council, knows how."
Vell arched a brow. "What do you mean, they don't know?"
"I mean exactly that," she said, her voice low as she glanced down the corridor to be sure they were still alone. "I slipped into one of their closed meetings. The council, ministers, warlords, and archmages. The ones who rule the elven empire. And they're as lost as everyone else. Ten years of examinations, rituals, magic... and nothing. You?"
"Not much," Vell admitted. "The Irath are planning something, but they wouldn't say what. Their diplomat got spooked. Mentioned shadows." He gave her a look. "Might've been yours."
Limerence shrugged.
Vell put a hand on his chin. "I've wondered about her death too. The Kalandir aren't supposed to die. I've never seen nor heard of anything that could kill one. They're built to endure. Invincible. The world's lucky there aren't more of them, and luckier still they don't like to fight."
"They call themselves immortal," Limerence said, "but that idea's already cracked. Anything that lives can end. The real question is how. Maybe the queen found a way."
"You're thinking suicide?"
"Could be," she said. "Or murder. Nothing we've heard makes it sound natural."
"Unless it was something none of them understood."
Limerence tapped her arm absently. "Maybe a spell that leaves no mark. Dico magic?" she asked him.
Vell shook his head. "Wouldn't work. Dico magic only makes things as true as the words you use, but if something can't die, you can't just speak death into it. It doesn't override reality; it only reinforces it. If death isn't part of what a Kalandir is, then no combination of words can force it to be."
She frowned. "Then maybe it wasn't a spell. Maybe it was something older. Some forgotten art. The elves cling to prophecy like it's law; maybe there was one only the queen knew."
"That still wouldn't explain how," Vell said. "And she wasn't one to hoard knowledge. If something was coming, she'd have told someone. And the elves? If they hear a secret once, they don't lose it. If a way existed before, they'd remember it."
"Then it has to be something new," Limerence said. "A way no one's seen before. And the queen was the first target. But that still doesn't answer the bigger question."
Vell nodded. "Why?"
"And who."
Limerence stopped tapping her fingers. She folded her arms tightly, the rustle of her sleeves the only sound in the corridor.
"The who is what keeps bothering me," she said. "If someone figured out how to kill a Kalandir, really kill them—why stop with just her?"
Vell didn't answer right away. When he did, his voice was quiet. "Maybe she was the only one who needed to die."
"That's a grim thought."
"It's practical," he replied. "If you wanted to break the balance of power, you don't need to attack the whole structure. You just take out the most vital piece. The queen was that piece."
Limerence turned her eyes down the hall. "Still doesn't explain why she didn't resist. No defenses, no signs of struggle. There's talk of suicide. I don't know if I believe it. Maybe she couldn't stop it?"
"Maybe it was a trade," Vell suggested. "Her life in exchange for something else."
"We're surrounded by the most powerful immortals on the continent. And not a single one of them knows how their queen died." She looked at him. "That doesn't sit right."
"Unless one of them does."