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No.

This would not happen. This was his mind—his battleground. Struggling against the darkness, he summoned his strongest memories, his deepest pains: his father’s face in the great hall of the Blademark, shame and rage warring in his expression; his first view of the Mournland, of the sweeping ruin that was once his home; a gnome woman’s laughter in a candlelit room; Jode’s shattered body sprawled across a pile of corpses; and Lei—the first time he’d seen her, the sun bringing out the fire in her coppery hair. Her hand was against his cheek earlier that night. Binding joy and pain into a single bright force, he threw this raw emotion against the encompassing dark, and the cold shadows retreated before the light. Even as the chill began to fade, he was consumed by fire. The faces he’d conjured wouldn’t go away, and now these phantoms of the past clutched at his mind. The mad artificer Kharizal d’Cannith and the changeling Monan howled with laughter, while Naelan of Valenar spun his bloody scimitar into a shield of razored steel. Teral ir’Soras stepped out of the shadows, wearing armor formed of raw flesh and muscle. Daine thrust his way through the phantoms and seized Teral by the throat, slamming the treacherous counselor to the ground, but even as he tightened his grip, his victim’s features flowed away, and now it was Lei who lay beneath him. Horrified, he released her and staggered back. With every second the mental cacophony increased. The mocking calls of his enemies and the cries of dying friends tore into his mind, crushing all thought.

Daine. Come back from the darkness.

It was a command. A brilliant light flowed down from above, shattering the shadows. He was back in his room at the inn with no name. Every muscle ached, and he fell back against the wall, slowly sinking to the floor.

Voices called to him. Daine. A radiant figure knelt before him, and at her touch confusion and pain were swept away.

Lei and Lakashtai pulled him to his feet, each of the women holding one of his hands. He didn’t know the kalashtar woman well enough to read her expressions, but Lei’s face was full of fear.

“I’m … I’m fine,” he said, mustering as much strength as he could. Surprisingly, the words were almost true; his strength was swiftly returning, and he actually felt better than he had all day.

“Not nearly.” Lakashtai had set aside her bantering manner, and her flickering smile had vanished. Her eyes were cold; her mouth a tight line. “Tashana. It would be her.”

Lei whirled to face the kalashtar. “What is going on?”

Lakashtai’s eyes flashed, and Lei took an involuntary step back. “A great evil has touched the mind of your friend, and I can’t allow it to spread any further.” She looked at Daine, and glittering green energy flowed around her hand. “I am sorry it has to end like this.”

“Move and you will share his end.” Pierce was standing in the doorway. His bow was in his hands, and an arrowhead of black steel was leveled at her heart.

For the briefest instant, Lakashtai’s eyes flickered toward Pierce. That moment was all that was needed. Daine latched onto her wrist with one hand, gripping her elbow with the other. Even as he moved, Lei brought her darkwood staff around in a low arc, sweeping Lakashtai’s legs out from under her. Daine knelt to keep his grip on her arm, and Lei put the point of her staff against the kalashtar’s throat.

“Thanks, Lei.”

She nodded.

The verdant energy faded from Lakashtai’s hand, but her face was a serene mask. “I bear no malice toward you, Daine. You may not believe it, but I saved your life a few moments ago, for the second time.”

“What was that? A healing touch?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

She glanced at her pinioned hand, and raised her delicate eyebrows. Daine took a deep breath and released her arm, moving back to stand by Pierce. “Try speaking more plainly.”

“The fears that brought me here were proven true. Your mind is under siege, and it is a battle that can only end with your death.”

Was there the slightest