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“When we had escaped the battle at Keldan Ridge, you led us back into Cyre. We could have started the journey toward Sharn immediately, but you chose to take us back through the mists. Why?”

“I thought there’d be survivors.”

“You placed our lives at risk then: why won’t you do it now?”

“Do you think I’m proud of that decision?” Daine slammed his hand down on the chain byrnie spread across the table. “I went looking for survivors, and what came of it? Another four people lost their lives, soldiers who went into that horror on my orders. I brought us to Sharn, and Jode … “He took a deep breath. “No one else is going to die for me.”

“So you intend to die instead?”

Daine turned back to the clothes. “I’m dying anyway. I doubt there’s anything that woman can do about it. At least you won’t have to watch.”

“Your chances of survival will be increased if I am by your side, and we will both be safer if Lei accompanies us. The last year alone has shown this to be true.”

“This isn’t a discussion. It’s an order.”

There it was again. Part of Pierce wanted to nod, to walk out of the room and leave Daine to his work. His commander had made a decision, but now … “No, it’s not.”

“What?” Daine looked up, exasperated.

“It is not an order, because I am not a soldier. I believe that I am a friend, and that makes us equals.”

“Pierce—”

“Am I mistaken? Are we your friends, or are we simple soldiers?”

Daine closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “Pierce … of course you’re my friends. You’re the only friends I have left.”

“And if it were Lei? If Lei said that she planned to return to Cyre in the company of a dangerous stranger—you would let her leave us behind?”

“Lei never was a soldier. She’d need our help.”

A memory emerged—Lei fighting a minotaur with her bare hands, while Pierce and Daine stood and watched, but Pierce already knew what tactics were required to win this battle. “If she ordered you?”

“She can’t give me orders. She’s …”

“Your friend?”

Daine shook his head, striking the table again. “Flame, Pierce! Why can’t you just let this go?”

Pierce stepped forward and put his hand on Daine’s shoulder. Daine froze—Pierce had never made such a gesture before. Pierce looked down at him. “Because I will not let you go, any more than you would leave Lei. This is our choice—not yours. I will not stand by and watch you die.”

Moments passed, as Daine and Pierce stood in silence. Finally Daine nodded. “I guess I’d better go down and talk to Lei.”

“I will accompany you.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“I told you—I will not stand by and watch you die.”

Daine looked up at his friend, and a smile slowly spread across his face.

The Dagger River flows through a deep canyon. As it runs south toward the coastline and the Thunder Sea, it meets up with two tributaries running east and west; the humans who first settled the region called this the Hilt. The city of Sharn was built on the top of the canyon wall hundreds of feet above the vast river, but the river trade was far too valuable for the city to pass up, so Cliffside was born: a community carved into the wall of the canyon itself. A web of stairways and bridges crisscrossed the stone face, and the wall was studded with the facades of buildings that stretched deep into the rock beyond.

A steady stream of skycoaches passed between the docks of the Dagger and the city far above, occasionally pausing at one of the Cliffside inns or brothels. These flying boats were an indulgence for those with silver to spare; for Daine, paying for a skycoach was as sensible as throwing a few sovereigns off the edge of a tower. Daine preferred to use the lifts—levitating platforms that slowly made their way from the tops of the towers to the bottom and back again. Travelers might have to wait a little while before one would arrive, but the lifts were free, safe, and reliable.

Usually.

“Oh, this is a good omen,” Daine said. “Eight months in Sharn, and this is the first time I’ve ever heard of a lift needing