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Pierce nodded solemnly.

Daine looked at Lakashtai. Her eyes were still closed, her teeth clenched, and her face was beaded with sweat. “Whatever you’re doing to her, stop. Now.”

“You are in no position to bargain. She will recover when we leave this place.”

“Thanks, that’s very reassuring, but those are my terms. If that’s not good enough for you, I guess we’d better fight.”

The man’s eyes narrowed in the shadows of his hood. For a moment, Daine thought that he would refuse, but finally he nodded. “Very well.”

The light from the crystal faded. Lakashtai slumped to the ground, catching herself with one hand. Daine glanced down at her; she simply nodded.

“Very well,” said Daine.

He held out his hands and slowly walked toward the Riedrans. It had been an age since Daine had turned his thoughts to any higher power, but for a moment he considered a prayer to the Flame. In the end, he put his trust in himself.

The woman on his left sheathed her sword and produced a set of man ac les. T hey were formed of crimson glass, and Daine could see no apparent locking mechanism—but it was the linking chain that caught his eye.

Perfect.

He held out his arms. As the woman leaned forward, he reached out—grabbing the chain and twisting to the side, tearing it from her hands. As he spun to the side he felt the tremble in the air as three arrows passed, catching the Riedran soldier in the chest and knocking her off her feet. There was no time for Daine to glance over at Pierce: continuing his motion, he lashed out with the manacles, wrapping the light chain around the crystal blade of the Riedran spokesman. The soldier tried to pull away, but Daine was too swift, too strong; one powerful blow sent the blade to the ground.

Daine spared a quick glance toward Lei. As instructed, she’d prepared one of the charms in her pouch; the two men who had been threatening her and Pierce were entangled in a mass of thick, sticky ooze. Pierce had an arrow nocked and was covering the astonished Riedrans.

Daine drew his sword. “Now, about surrender …”

The world dissolved into pain. The woman with the crystal had taken a step back, moving just out of his reach, and the crystal in her hand was pulsing with a baleful crimson light. Each pulse sent a wave of agony through Daine’s nerves. He was dimly aware of his companions crying out—even Pierce.

“You were warned!” the spokesman said. Only his eyes were visible beneath his hood and veil, and they were blue splinters of pure fury. “Now they die!” He retrieved his weapon and pushed past Daine, making his way toward Lakashtai.

No, Daine thought.

The pain was overwhelming, a fire that paralyzed every muscle, but he found he could still feel his fingers clenched around the hilt of his grandfather’s sword. He focused on that sensation, feeling the sword, and time seemed to slow to a crawl. He felt every aspect of the weapon: the balance of the blade, the steel wire binding the leather to the hilt, the silver eye glimmering on the pommel. Images of battle flashed in his mind, the hundreds of conflicts the blade must have seen. For a moment, he forgot the pain.

In that instant, he struck.

His thrust caught the swordsman just above the waist, tearing through his chainmail and punching a bloody hole in his flesh. Daine pulled the blade free, expecting the man to tumble to the ground.

He was disappointed.

The Riedran turned toward him; if the gaping wound caused him pain, he showed no signs of it. The crystal blade flashed toward Daine, and he raised his sword just in time to block the strike.

Now Daine was on the defensive. In skill, they were almost perfectly matched; every thrust had a counter, every slash was blocked. Now the supernatural pain was pressing at Daine’s mind, and with each passing moment it grew stronger. The mysterious strength Daine had drawn from his blade was fading, and it was becoming harder and harder to parry the strokes of the crystal sword. Daine took a step back, trying to reach the woman with the crystal. She