“He’s gone mad!” Karas whispered, sliding in beside her.

“Watch your tongue.”

“Just because you love him doesn’t mean he isn’t mad. Now what?”

“We have to get the books.” Darsal paced, frantic.

“Get the books and leave him?”

“If you think I would ever leave Billos, you’re as mad as he is.”

“So you admit he’s mad? But the fact that you risked your neck to get this far is clouding your judgment.”

“Was Johnis’s judgment clouded when he went back for you?”

That put her back on her heels. She stared into the forest for a moment, then looked up at Darsal. “I wanted to be saved. You can’t help someone who doesn’t want help.”

“You’re assuming his desires won’t change,” Darsal snapped.

“What do you see in him? He’s not the lovable kind.”

“Zip it! What does a child know about love? There’s no way this side of Teeleh’s breath that I’m leaving Billos. Don’t say another word of it!”

“Nice,” Karas quipped. “And dangerous too.”

“What is?”

“Love,” Karas said.

A loud boom ripped through the air. They both started and faced the village.

“Billos?”

BILLOS RELEASED THE GOBLET, LETTING IT CRASH ON THE floorboards. He stared at the broken glass shards at his feet. The feeling of raw power that accompanied every snap of his fingers was positively intoxicating. A small part of his mind knew that he was stalling, but the greater part of his heart was so wrapped up in ambition that he couldn’t bring his thoughts to focus on that corner of his thinking.

“Okay,” he said, looking up. “If you—”

The words caught in his throat. Claude had lifted his long-barreled weapon and was staring at him as if he were the enemy.

“Cut them off behind,” Claude ordered.

Four villagers broke from the mob and jogged two to each side of the building, watching Billos as they disappeared into the alley behind.

At any other time, in any battle with any of the Horde, Billos wouldn’t have mistaken the move as anything but a clear threat. At the moment, however, he wasn’t thinking clearly, and worse, he knew it. He couldn’t make his mind work fast enough.

They were throaters. Any fool could see that much. But what direct threat these particular throaters posed to him wasn’t clear, at least not to him.

Black’s order drummed through his mind. Kill them all, every last one of them. Baby. His guns were still in his hip holsters. But he wasn’t in the business of killing them all right at this moment. He was in the business of giving them what they wanted.

He glanced over his shoulder. Saw the room was empty.

Gone? Darsal had betrayed him?