A faint glow in the corridor ahead warned Han that Bayar was launching another volley. Above Han’s head, rock cracked and shattered, raining shards of stone down on him. One glanced off his temple, stunning him. Blood poured into Han’s eyes, a typical head-wound gusher. He mopped at it with his sleeve, trying to clear his vision, and nearly toppled into a crevasse. He landed flat on his back, his head hitting stone, his lower legs dangling into space.

Bayar’s cold laughter echoed through the rock chamber. He strode out of the mist, robes swishing, his charmcasting hand extended.

Han froze the sulfurous mist that coated the floor under Bayar’s feet. The wizard slipped, nearly fell, and Han followed with a torrent of flame. It nailed Bayar in the right shoulder, spinning him around. Clutching his wounded shoulder, Bayar ducked out of sight.

Han rolled to his feet and stumbled around a corner before Bayar could get himself organized. Even wounded, Bayar was dangerous.

Once he’d put some space between himself and his enemy, Han removed his shirt and ripped a long strip of fabric from the sleeve. He bound it tight around his head to keep the blood out of his eyes. But his head ached, and his body was damaged from days of torture. Magically, he had the advantage, but physically, he was nearly spent.

A bit of sand sifting down from overhead caused him to leap back just as Bayar fired an immobilization charm down on him. Han sent flame rocketing up the wall, scouring the ledge above, but it was now empty.

An immobilization charm. The significance of this penetrated slowly, reminding Han that Bayar wasn’t done with him. The powerful wizard still hoped to take him alive (maimed was apparently acceptable). How to take advantage of that?

More footsteps, more twists and turns in the fog, until Han lost track of where they were in the tunnels and crossings.

Sooner or later, Bayar would come up against one of Crow’s magical barriers—one he could not disable. Then he would be trapped. In the meantime, Han had to avoid an ambush. He concentrated, watching for the smudge of light that would tell him Bayar had taken hold of his amulet, preparing to cast a charm.

They seemed to be doubling back the way they’d come. Once again, Han picked his way through a minefield of bubbling hot springs and seething mudpots. Either Bayar hoped to escape back into Aerie House, or…