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Daine stood and turned to Lakashtai. “Let’s go,” he said. “Quickly—”

It was too late.

Three dark shapes detached themselves from the shadows. Pale chitin armor gleamed in the light of day. The leader held a three-pronged throwing wheel in his right hand, and a scorpion sat on his left.

“Our paths cross again, outlander,” Shen’kar said. “Now we speak of fire.”

Lei let go of her staff, and it fell to the ground. She didn’t need it to deal with Pierce. Her hands were far more dangerous than any weapon—if she could touch him, she could tear him apart from within.

While she’d fought Pierce once before, she didn’t expect this battle to follow the same path. The first time Pierce had been driven into a rage, unhinged by the powers of the mind flayer Chyrassk. Now he was in full control of himself, and he knew her capabilities as well as she did. As soon as her words had registered, Pierce dropped his flail and backed away from her. His bow was in his hands, though he was pointing it at the ground. He was fast, and under normal circumstances she’d never be able to close the distance to touch him, but she’d had a few moments to prepare. She’d magically enhanced her own speed and even woven an enchantment that would protect her from Pierce’s arrows. She was ready for the traitor, but she needed to act quickly. Surely the others would be here at any moment.

“I do not wish to hurt you, Lei,” Pierce’s voice was calm and somber. “This has been a confusing time, but I have always sought to protect you.”

“What do you call this?” She held up her maimed hand, with only a stump in place of her smallest finger. Hydra had bandaged the wound, but the injury still throbbed, and she was terrified to think how it might affect her work.

“That … is my fault. Harmattan used you to manipulate me. He threatened to kill you unless I agreed to help him.”

“So you did all of this for me,” Lei said.

“No. No, I did not. I was uncertain, curious to know what my life could be—what it would be, without you or Daine.” He paused. “There are things you and I will never share, Lei. I understand that, but I am a warforged, and I was made for a purpose. That purpose was to protect you.”

“Liar!” The loss of Daine, her wounded hand—Lei’s thoughts were a maze of pain and anguish, and she barely followed Pierce’s words. It was a trick. He was delaying, covering for the others who would soon emerge. She charged at Pierce, hands out, already envisioning the powers she would draw on to destroy him. She knew what he would do: dart to the side, loose a volley of arrows, try to maintain the space between them.

He didn’t.

He didn’t try to run from her, and he didn’t raise his bow. He simply stood there, even as she laid a hand on his chest. He just watched her. His face was as expressionless as always, but she had learned to read his moods in his stance and the tension in his limbs. He wasn’t going to fight.

For a moment she stood with her hand pressed against his torso. She could feel the cold metal, and in her mind she could sense the energies within—the pattern that gave life to stone and steel. A voice screamed inside of her: Destroy him! Destroy all of them! She’d thought it would be easier, but she’d thought he would fight back. Looking at his face, it was hard to hold onto the anger. Instead, she found herself thinking of the night they’d arrived in Sharn, when he’d carried her sobbing from the doorstep of Hadran’s manor, of the battle at Keldan Ridge, and of the vision she’d had the first time they fought.

She slammed her left fist against his torso. “Fight, damn you!”

“I cannot.” Pierce placed a hand over hers, pressing it against his chest. “Destroy me if you must, but I will not fight you again, nor will I allow you to come to any harm that I can prevent.”

Blinking back tears, she held up her left hand, the maimed finger plain to see.

Pierce looked away. “Do what you must, my lady. If my failure cannot be forgiven, let my punishment be swift.”

Lei clenched her wounded