“He’s safe, but rather ill. He saved us, you know? Swallowed that demon’s fires like they were a meal. And now he’s paying a price far worse than indigestion.”

“It’s too little, too late. Where was he when I needed him to swallow the fires that surrounded my mother? The fires that claimed my leg and your eye? The fires that killed your brother?”

“Maybe not.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He told me Gado is still alive.”

“What?”

“I know. It shocked the void out of me, too.”

“That’s what he whispered in your ear? That’s why you stayed my hand from killing him? You fool. He’s playing you. If you can’t see that, then I don’t know what else to say.”

Bryony was hoping Ludo would match her intensity with his own, but he disappointed her, exuding utter calmness in the face of her fury. She remembered the heat of her rage in that tunnel, the way the fire danced along her skin without burning her. That voice in the dark: Together we are fire. Together we are rage. You can burn it all down, if you wish. “What are we going to do with him?” Ludo asked. “Still want to stab him through the heart?”

“Yes, don’t you? His words are just words. If Gado is alive, where is he? Where has he been all these years?” She pretended to search the room as though her companion’s long-lost brother might be hiding in a corner somewhere.

“I haven’t decided yet. What if he’s telling the truth?”

“He’s manipulating you, can’t you see that?”

“Maybe, but if there’s even the slightest chance…I need to see it through. If he’s lying, we can stab him through the heart at the same time.”

“Ooh, you really know how to make a woman feel special. But don’t make promises you don’t plan to keep. Anyway, my father is dangerous. We might not be the ones doing the stabbing.”

“Like I said, he saved us at Comman Dur. Why would he do that only to kill us later? If it makes you feel better, we’ll remain vigilant at all times, on our guard. We’ll take turns sleeping. And anyway, I don’t think he is what he used to be. Or maybe he never was what they say he was.”

“What do you mean? You were there during the Nightdawn. We both were. We saw the flames. We saw the way he walked amongst them without flinching, caring only for his own work of death.”

“We were children. Memories from back then are…fuzzy. And his power has…diminished…somehow. Or changed, maybe. Perhaps from all those years trapped behind walls of stone.”

“You’re talking about the gold leaves on his forehead, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but the lack of gold leaves. I wasn’t sure whether you’d noticed.”

“Of course, I noticed. He’s my father. You’re saying that him not having those gold leaves means he’s less powerful now?”

“Maybe.”

“And you also think your brother might be alive?”