Something broke with an inaudible snap, and Dani felt an acute pain in his shoulder and a dull one in his head. As the world went slowly black in his vision, he worked one hand free to fumble at the clay vial around his throat. It was intact.

It was his last conscious thought.

THE ROAR OF THE TORDENSTEM Fjel echoed through Defile’s Maw, scattering the ravens into a circling black cloud, setting the shrouded webs of Weavers’ Gulch to trembling, welcoming them back to Darkhaven.

Speros glanced at the figures crouching on the heights, remembering all too well his ungentle reception at their hands. He ran his tongue over his teeth, probing the gap where a front one was missing.

“Last chance, Midlander.” General Tanaros drew rein beside him, an unfathomable expression in his dark eyes. “I mean it. Turn around now, and ride away without looking back. You can keep the horse.”

Speros shook his head. “No.”

“You know what’s coming?”

“Aye, Lord General.” He kept his gaze steady. “War.”

Tanaros sighed. “If you had an ounce of sense, you’d take my advice and go.”

“Where, sir?” Speros shook his head again. “There’s no place for me out there. Should I join Haomane’s Allies and ride against you? I would sooner cut off my right arm.” Alarm squeezed his chest. “Do you seek to be rid of me? Is it because of what happened with the Yarru? I promised, I’ll not fail you again. And I did help, after all; you’d not have gotten the Well sealed without my aid.”

“Aye.” The General’s strong hand rested on his shoulder. “You’re a good lad, Speros. I do you no kindness in accepting your loyalty.”

“Did I ask for kindness?” Anger mixed with the alarm. “Sir?”

“No.” The General lifted his gaze, watching the ravens circle overhead. An errant lock of hair fell over his brow. Behind his austere features was a shadow of sorrow. “Perhaps it is a piece of wisdom that you do not.”

Something in Speros’ heart ached. The General feared for him. His family had reckoned him shiftless, an idler whose goals would never amount to aught. They had never showed as much concern for his well-being as the General did. They cared nothing for the ideas that fired his imagination. He had met their expectations accordingly and paid the price for it.

General Tanaros was different. He had believed in Speros, taken a chance on him. He knew, in a wordless way, that he would do anything to see General Tanaros smile, to see his expression lighten with approval.

Even if it led to defeat, it would be worthwhile.