“You don’t understand,” Garuwashi said, still on his knees, but the Night Angel was gone. Garuwashi turned wretched eyes to Feir. “Will you be my second?”

“No,” Feir said.

“Very well, faithless servant. I don’t need you.”

Garuwashi drew his short sword, but for once in his life, Feir was quicker than the sa’ceurai. His sword smacked the blade from Garuwashi’s hand and he scooped it up.

“Give me a few hours,” Feir said. “The Hunter is distracted. With five thousand flies in its web, one more may go unnoticed.”

“What are you going to do?” Garuwashi asked.

I’m going to save you. I’m going to save all your damned stiff-necked, infuriating, magnificent people. I’m probably going to get my damn fool self killed. “I’m going to get your sword back,” Feir said, and then he walked into the Wood.

11

A high, tortured howl woke Vi Sovari from a dream of Kylar fighting gods and monsters. She sat up instantly, ignoring the aches from another night on rocky ground. The howl was miles away. She shouldn’t have been able to hear it through the giant sequoys and the deadening morning mists, but it continued, filled with madness and rage, changing pitch as it flew with incredible speed from the Wood’s center.

Only then did Vi become aware of Kylar through the ancient mistarille-and-gold earring. She’d bonded Kylar as he lay unconscious at the Godking’s mercy. It had saved Cenaria and Kylar’s life, and now Vi and Kylar could sense each other. Kylar was two miles distant, and Vi could feel that he held something of incredible power. She could feel him reaching a decision. The power departed from him, and he felt an odd sense of victory.

Suddenly, it was as if the sun were rising in the south. Vi stood on shaky knees. A hundred paces away, at the enormous sequoys of the Dark Hunter’s Wood, the air itself turned a brilliant gold, radiating magic. Even to Vi, untrained as she was, it felt like the kiss of a midsummer’s sunset on her skin.

Then the color deepened to reddish gold. Every dust mote floating in the air, every water droplet in the mists was a flaming autumnal glory.