In a short while, Pearl would arrive, and they would set out to find the cold, cold trail of Tavore’s hapless sister, Felisin. Along which they might find opportunity to drive a blade into the heart of the Talons. Yet were not the Talons of the empire? Dancer’s own, his spies and killers, the deadly weapon of his will. Then what had turned them into traitors?

Betrayal was a mystery. Inexplicable to Lostara. She only knew that it delivered the deepest wounds of all.

And she had long since vowed that she would never again suffer such wounds.

She collected her sword-belt from the hook above the bed and drew the thick leather band about her hips, hooking it in place.

Then froze.

The small room before her was filled with dancing shadows.

And in their midst, a figure. A pale face of firm features, made handsome by smile lines at the corners of the eyes – and the eyes themselves, which, as he looked upon her, settled like depthless pools.

Into which she felt, in a sudden rush, she could plunge. Here, now, for ever.

The figure made a slight bow with his head, then spoke, ‘Lostara Yil. You may doubt my words, but I remember you—’

She stepped back, her back pressing up against the wall, and shook her head. ‘I do not know you,’ she whispered.

‘True. But there were three of us that night, so very long ago in Ehrlitan. I was witness to your ... unexpected performance. Did you know Delat – or, rather, the man I would eventually learn was Delat – would have taken you for his own? Not just the one night. You would have joined him as a Bridgeburner, and that would well have pleased him. Or so I believe. No way to test it, alas, since it all went – outwardly – so thoroughly awry.’

‘I remember,’ she said.

The man shrugged. ‘Delat, who had a different name for that mission and was my partner’s responsibility besides — Delat let Bidithal go. I suppose it seemed a ... a betrayal, yes? It certainly did to my partner. Certainly to this day Shadowthrone – who was not Shadowthrone then, simply a particularly adept and ambitious practitioner of Rashan’s sister warren, Meanas – to this day, I was saying, Shadowthrone stokes eternal fires of vengeance. But Delat proved very capable of hiding ... under our very noses. Like Kalam. Just another unremarked soldier in the ranks of the Bridgeburners.’

‘I do not know who you are.’