“We are demanding a lot of you,” I told him. “If you aren’t strong, we are all ruined. We need you to be a hero who can face Jakoven and triumph over his power and his games in a way that we have not been able to. But Rosem loves you more than he loves us. He will keep us from destroying you with our demands. Keep him by your side.”

He stared at me, an odd look on his face. “You sound humble,” he said. “You’re big and you talk slowly—it leads people to underestimate you. But somehow we always do what you want us to do.”

I grinned. “I’ll be glad to knock sense into you whenever you feel you need it.”

OREGWAS WAITING FOR ME IN THE LIBRARY.

“King Lorekoth will meet with you tonight,” he said, looking up from the book he was reading to hand me a note.

I’d sent Oreg to the dwarven king.

Jakoven had proven that he could attack Hurog despite the winter as long as he controlled Farsonsbane. He’d sent this creature after Garranon for spite, but the Bane was capable of far more harm. So Kellen had to leave Hurog, and the fastest way to do that was through the dwarven waterways beneath the earth. For that, I needed the dwarven king’s permission.

The hidden stair that led to the dwarven ways was still half buried in rubble. There weren’t very many entrances to it from above ground; I knew of only one other in Shavig and three in Oranstone, though I could make an educated guess at four or five more—the keeps that had traditionally been famous for their dwarven trade.

As we neared the dwarvenway, the sound of the water became deafening, proof that a delegation awaited to escort us to the Dwarvenhame where the king held court. Without dwarven (or Oreg’s) magic, the water was still and quiet. Only when a raft was hurtling through the tunnels did the water roil.

The door opened before we had quite reached it and a slender-built man stepped through. His beard and hair were dark, with only a hint of gray threaded through it, though I knew that he had been born before my grandfather.

“Axiel,” I said, and picked him up in a bear hug. “It’s good to see you.”

He laughed and slapped my back. “Put me down, you overgrown runt, before you infect my brother with your poor manners.”

I set him down and turned to his companion, who had watched us with wide eyes.

“Ward, this is my brother, Yoleg. Yoleg, Wardwick of Hurog.”