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Ashi’s unease grew. House Cannith bore the Mark of Making. Their artificers were capable of creating all manner of wonders—and dangers. The box was featureless, offering no clue of what it contained. Tariic flipped it open.

Nestled against black velvet inside was a pair of polished silver wrist cuffs.

In the moment that she stared, Tariic gestured. One of the bugbears holding her wrenched her right arm out straight. She gasped in surprise and started to pull back, but Tariic was quicker. Snatching up one of the cuffs, he closed it around her wrist just above the bugbear’s meaty hand. The delicate clasp closed with a deep clack that was louder than it should have been.

“Now the other one,” said Tariic, gesturing again. Midian, grinning like an idiot offered him the box once more.

The bugbears didn’t have the advantage of surprise a second time. Ashi screamed fury and fought them, but together they were far stronger than she. Her shoulder throbbed as a bugbear twisted her arm away from her body, then came a second deep clack and the faint pressure of the matching cuff on her wrist.

Then the bugbears let her go.

The release came so suddenly that Ashi stumbled before catching herself and dropping into a crouch, ready for whatever might come next. But the bugbears were already backing off—one favoring a shin that she’d stomped on, another cradling an injured hand and glaring at her—while Midian tucked away the empty case and Tariic returned to his chair.

For a moment, the hobgoblin’s back was to her. Rage surged inside her. She leaped at him.

Cold so intense it burned seized her, turning her leap into a sprawl that ended at Tariic’s feet. The snarl on her lips became a hiss of agony, then a choke as her arms went numb. Ashi forced herself onto her knees and stared at the wrist cuffs. Frost coated the bright metal. Around the cuffs, her skin had already started to turn white as it froze. The blue-green lines of her dragonmark stood out in colorful contrast.

“The emperors of Dhakaan presented similar creations to those they wanted to keep on a short leash,” said Tariic calmly. Ashi wrenched her eyes away from the cuffs to glare at him. “They can’t be broken or removed except by me,” he continued. “Left long enough, the cold will kill you, but frostbite will ruin your fingers and then your hands before that.”

He murmured a word under his breath, too low for Ashi to hear, and the cruel cold vanished. Her pride couldn’t stand up to the release and the feeling of warmth—she slumped back on her heels, chest heaving in relief. Tariic sat forward.

“Breven may believe that the threat of excoriation is enough to keep you in Rhukaan Draal, but I don’t. Travel north of the Ghaal River or south of the city’s edge, and the cuffs will be activated. Try to attack me, and they will be activated. I promise you I won’t turn them off a second time. Do you understand?”

Ashi drew a deep breath and stood up. “Won’t it look suspicious if the envoy of House Deneith is found frozen to death, Lhesh Tariic?” she asked, holding her head high.

“Accidents happen, Lady Ashi. Don’t worry, you’ll have an escort to keep you safe.” Tariic raised his voice again. “Warriors, enter!”

The door opened for a second time, and the Rhukaan Taash warriors Ashi had glimpsed entered the chamber. They fell into a perfect line behind her, heads up, hands on the hilts of their swords. All three hobgoblins were young and in prime fighting condition, their armor bright, their eyes alert, and their ears tall and straight. Ashi had no doubt that they were the most skilled and loyal in Tariic’s clan.

“Trusted warriors to ensure that you are able to go about your duties as envoy untroubled,” said Tariic. He gave her a hard look. “And only your duties. One of them will accompany you at all times.”

The cuffs prevented her from leaving Rhukaan Draal, but the presence of the guards would keep her from causing trouble within the city. She would be a prisoner in Khorvaire’s largest prison, a puppet