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The scouts pulled the wounded Lei to the ground, but even as they worked a rope gag into her mouth, she straightened up, staring straight at Harmattan. “I remember you,” she said. “I know who you are!” The rope was pulled tight between her teeth, and any further words were lost.

We have work to do, little brother. Hydra will stay with your fleshling to keep her safe. Of course, he will also be with us—and he will be watching you. Challenge me again, and she will pay the price. Now let us begin. Open the door.

For now, there was no choice. Pierce set the amulet against his essence node, a small hollow in his sternum. He focused his thoughts and reached out to encompass the disk. There was a shifting of metal as the medallion was drawn fused to the node, and he felt its energy flowing into him—very old, very alien, nothing like the scouting disks he’d used in the war. An instant later, the bond was complete. He looked over at Lei then stepped onto the circle. Gazing down into the obsidian surface, he could see a faint flickering—patterns of flame in black and white fluttering in the shadows. As he watched, these grew more focused and pronounced.

Open, he thought. He could feel the disk grow warm, feel his thoughts being translated into some ancient tongue and spread across the ether.

The glass began to glow.

The shimmer of heat rose up through the air. As Pierce watched, the glass around his feet began to melt and flow, but it was contained, channeled—and a moment later it was cold again, and a spiral staircase led down into the darkness.

You see, little one? No danger at all. Now let us go. Indigo, join Pierce in the lead—I don’t want him setting off any defenses.

Indigo walked up to Pierce. She’d slung her bow, and her blades were extended. She moved with a precision the human eye would never appreciate, and even now Pierce found her fascinating.

“Let go of this doubt,” she said. “We are your family. We belong together, and we shall change this world.”

“All we need to do is follow our orders,” Pierce said, drawing his flail.

“It is our fight,” she replied, studying the stairs and trying her foot on the first step. “Our leaders should not have to compel our loyalty. It is our duty to our race.”

“How many times has a human made that same speech?”

Indigo had no reply. She made her way down the spiral staircase, and Pierce followed in silence.

Gerrion had dressed for the occasion.

The threadbare rogue Daine had met in Stormreach had been replaced by a dashing dandy. His clothes were black glimmersilk embroidered with red and orange flames, and he wore tall boots of red leather. His hair had been oiled and washed, and it was like a wreath of fire around his face. Only two traces of his old identity remained: the crossbow in his right hand and the glove on his left, black leather painted with interwoven flames.

“Daine!” He said, “I hope you enjoyed your rest and your meal. I do try to keep my promises.” He studied Daine with a critical eye. “Are those burns I see? Have you been getting in fights again?”

“Bastard!” Daine yelled. He leapt forward, heedless of Gerrion’s crossbow, ready to strangle the half-elf with his last breath, if that’s what it took

He never reached the traitor. He’d forgotten about Zulaje, and even as he charged forward she swept him off his feet with a blow to the back of his legs. She could have easily severed his tendons, but she used the flat of the blade, so instead he found himself tumbling to the floor. He managed to catch himself before his face struck the floor, resting on his forearms.

“Bastard, but ours,” Zulaje sang from behind him.

Gerrion smiled down at Daine and shrugged. “I’d stay there, if I were you. From what I hear, she’s been in a bad mood.” From his vantage point on the floor, Daine saw that his adamantine dagger was tucked into the wide belt Gerrion wore around his waist.

“Why, Gerrion? Why would you do this to us?”

“You know nothing of my life,” Gerrion said, and his voice was suddenly cold and deadly. He