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Relax. Lakashtai was fighting to catch her breath, but she had at least regained her mental composure. We can afford a moment’s rest. She reached up and touched the leather collar. Daine saw a flash of emerald light around her fingers, and a new bolt of agony shot through his nerves. When his vision cleared again, Lakashtai was holding the collar in one hand. The leather had been cleanly severed.

I’m sorry, she thought. I needed to cut it loose before my shield failed.

Beneath the collar, Lakashtai’s neck was a mass of charred skin and burnt muscle; it looked every bit as bad as Daine felt. He touched his own skin and winced in pain—but as bad as it felt, he didn’t seem to have the physical injuries he saw on Lakashtai … just the pain. As he watched, Lakashtai raised her hands and wrapped them around her neck; she closed her eyes for a moment, and when she removed her hands, the wounds were gone, her skin fresh and unblemished, but he felt exactly the same, his skin throbbing with the imagined burns.

“I wish I could take the pain back from you,” she said, opening her eyes, “but I can only perform such adjustments on my own flesh. We would not have escaped without your courage and strength, and I hope you can bear this torture a little longer.”

“I’m fine,” Daine said, trying to keep his voice steady.

She took his hand, and for that moment, at least, the pain seemed to fade. “You saved my life, Daine. I will not forget that.”

Her gaze was intense, and Daine forced himself to look away. “I’d say that we both did our share of saving.”

She placed her hand on his cheek, slowly turning his face back toward hers. Her hair was disheveled, and there was blood and ash on her face, but her eyes were brilliant jewels. “Daine—”

Then the world exploded.

“I have had it with fire!” Daine shouted. The bolt of flame had just missed them, but Daine had been caught in the splash and he slapped at a few smoldering patches on his clothing.

“Do not move!”

The words were Elvish and coming from the air. A second later, the source of sound and flame came into view. At first Daine thought he was looking at an airship, a Lyrandar airship being ridden by giants, but it was a sled, not a ship—a narrow sled of dark wood, about nine feet in length. A ring of fire was wrapped around the waist of the sled, just like that of a Lyrandar airship—a burning ring of elemental flame, the power that held the vehicle aloft. One elf was lying down on his stomach, stretched out along the front of the sleigh. He wore a strange helmet formed of brass and obsidian, studded with what Daine guessed were dragonshards. This helmet concealed his eyes, but his dark skin and the fire tattoos left no doubt as to his nature.

A second elf stood just in front of the burning ring. He held a dark staff inscribed with symbols of brass. It was attached to a rotating stock set into the center of the sled. Daine knew a weapon when he saw one, and considering this was pointed at them, it wasn’t hard to guess where the bolt of flame had come from.

“On your knees!” The firesled hovered in midair, and the staffsman adjusted his aim.

Any more tricks up your sleeve? Daine thought.

I am afraid not, Lakashtai thought, and the shield I had manifested has faded. I can offer no protection.

Then I guess it’s up to me, Daine said, dropping to his knees.

He glanced around the trees, looking for something he could use as a weapon, praying for inspiration to strike. At first, he saw nothing. Then there was a flash of motion, a glitter of metal in the darkness.

A long silver chain lashed out from the trees and wrapped around the throat of the staffsman. Even as his hands flew to his neck, he was pulled from the sled; he fell screaming to the ground, the chain dangling behind him. Realizing he was in danger, the pilot set the vessel in motion, but it was too late; there was a whirring sound, and Daine saw two dark disks strike the drow. The ring of fire burst into life, and the sled leapt forward. A moment later, Daine heard the roar of a distant explosion; whether he’d been killed or