"I'm a Novice," Morne told the goblin king the same lie he had told Essenla two weeks ago. "And I know no Spells."
Grek exhaled through his nose, eyelids drooping as the mushrooms atop his head wriggled. A dull pain throbbed where Morne's plant-heart sat within his chest, like something was pinching its valves and the arteries extending from it to test for something.
"…You lie to me, human," the goblin king said lowly. "Your heart, or whatever has replaced it, betrays you."
Morne frowned. He could tell? What form of magic was this?
"Answer honestly," Grek ordered. "Now."
Essenla glanced at Morne in confusion. While Morne had displayed the ability to use Sense and Chimh, neither of these things, strictly speaking, required the use of a Spell. Spells were often the way Chimh was used, but it wasn't the only way to do so.
But why would he lie to her about that?
