“I am helping,” said a monster with glowing jade eyes. “If I don’t keep this barrier up, his magic guardian in the woods will destroy us all. That’s why I had to wait until now, during the day, when it is at its weakest. You go fight him—that’s what you do.”

They came with clubs and swords, and I hurled them into the ocean that somehow yawned behind them. After the first few, though, the demons were ready and their weapons began to find their mark.

“I thought the king wanted him alive,” someone exclaimed harshly. For a moment I knew it was Garranon, but then that understanding left me.

It was hard to fight with the manacles on, so when I’d won myself some space, I pulled. The links bent, but not enough.

Someone swore, then said, “Look at what he did to that chain.”

Something hit me in the back of the knee and I stumbled. My vision exploded in a flash of light as I was hit again.

IWOKE ON A PILE OF STRAW IN A SMALL ROOM DIMLYlit by a window high above. Garranon sat on his heels beside me.

“The demons didn’t get you,” I whispered, because I was certain I could hear the rustle of their feet just outside.

“I think they did,” he said, sounding sad.

There was something I’d wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t quite . . . “I have a secret,” I said.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he replied, looking a little worried.

“It’s for you—Ward wants you to know.”

“Ah.” He looked a little confused, but made no other sound.

“Isn’t your fault,” I said. It was harder to talk than usual, my tongue felt swollen. “Jakoven would have done it anyway.”

“Would you have come if I hadn’t been there?” he said bitterly.

I nodded. “Hurog’s not completed. Not prepared to take on the king. Ward had to come, he knew it was a trap.”

He knelt down. “Ward?”

But when he knelt, he turned into my father and I curled into a ball. Father was angry with me, and I knew that his anger always hurt.

After a while the door opened and shut, and I was alone.

If I burrowed under the straw that covered the floor, the demons couldn’t find me. Terror was my closest friend; my room was rank with the smell of it. The only hope I clung to was that if I could hide long enough, I knew the dragon would come and save me.

4
TISALA

Some stereotypes are useful. Certainly I’ve never met a dishonorable Oranstonian, nor a Shavigman who wasn’t happy to fight.

TISALAPACED THE CONFINES OF WARD’S ROOM.Waiting here while someone else dealt with her problems was harder than the role she’d accepted in her father’s little plot—which was just what Ward had thought it to be.