He strode the halls, reaching the door to the Lady of the Ellylon’s quarters. A pair of Havenguard sought to turn him away. With the case containing the broken Helm under his arm, he quelled them with a single, furious glance.

Chastened, they unbarred the door.

Ushahin stepped inside, smiling his bitter, crooked smile. “Lady,” he began, and then halted.

Over a hidden passageway, a tapestry hung askew.

The chamber was empty.

“EXPECTING ME?” CERELINDE WHISPERED THE words. “How so, my Lord? For I did not expect to find myself here.”

Some yards beyond the base of the stair, Satoris Banewreaker gazed upward at her with terrifying gentleness. “Will you seek after my knowledge now, little Ellyl? I fear it is too late.” He beckoned. “Come.”

She had never thought to get this far. As she’d paced restless in her chamber, the certainty that she must try had grown upon her. The weight of the burden Haomane’s Allies had placed upon the Bearer, the burden she had laid on Meara’s shoulders, were too great. It was unfair to ask what one was unwilling to give.

Meara might fail her.

The young Bearer’s task might consume him.

And it had come to her that perhaps, after all, it was Haomane’s plan that had placed her here, where she alone among his Allies held the key to fulfilling his Prophecy. Cerelinde knew the way to the threefold door.

She had not expected it to open to her touch. Surely, it must be a trap.

“Come.” The Sunderer gestured at Godslayer. “Is this not what you seek?”

From her vantage point atop the stair, Cerelinde glanced at the dagger, pulsing in the Font. “You mock me, my Lord,” she said quietly. “Though my life is forfeit for this error, do not ask me to walk willingly onto the point of your blade.”

“There is no mockery.” The Shaper smiled with sorrow, the red glow in his eyes burning low. “Can you not feel it, daughter of Erilonde? Even now, the Bearer is beneath us. Even now, he dares to risk all. Do you dare to risk less?”

“I am afraid,” Cerelinde whispered.

“Indeed. Yet I have given my word that I will not harm you.” The Shaper laughed softly, and there was no madness in it. “You mistrust my word, Lady of the Ellylon; yet if I am true to it, will you dare to become the thing you despise? Will you take that burden on yourself for the sake of your foolish, unswerving obedience to my Elder Brother’s will?”

She shuddered. “I know not what you mean, my Lord Satoris.”

“Come, then, and learn it.” Once more, he beckoned to her, and an edge of malice crept into his tone. “Or will you flee and leave the Bearer to fail?”