She’d put Micah into a spot. He’d asked her to trust him. Either he had to admit that he didn’t trust her to follow through on her promise, or he could do as she said.

Micah scowled out at the rain-smeared glass, a muscle working in his jaw. “Raisa, please. I beg you. Come with me now. I’m afraid that if I leave you, I’ll never see you again.”

“No.”

He sighed and nodded, looking sideways at her. “All right. I need a token from you, something to prove to my family and the council of Wizards that we are betrothed. Something to show the copperheads that I am acting on your behalf.”

As Raisa cast about for something, Micah’s hand snaked out and closed on her wrist. “What about this ring?” he asked, touching the ring Han had given her.

“No!” she said, snatching her hand back. “Not that one.”

Micah stared at her, brows drawn together. Impulsively, Raisa tugged off the wolf ring, the talisman that had once been Hanalea’s. The one her grandmother Elena had given her.

“Use this one,” she said, extending it toward him. “It will be instantly recognizable. They’ll know I wouldn’t give it up except as a promise to you.”

He weighed it on his palm. “It’s getting warm,” he said, after a moment.

“It’s a talisman, remember. It reacts to high magic. You should be all right as long as you are wearing your amulet.”

Micah slid it onto his little finger. “Since we are betrothed, I think we should exchange rings,” he said abruptly. Slipping the falcon signet ring from his finger, he held it out to her.

“After what happened last time, do you really expect me to put that on?” Raisa said, folding her arms.

“Someday,” Micah said, “I hope you can find a way to forgive me. And then to trust me. And after that, maybe love me.” He smiled slightly. “It’s just a ring, Raisa. Nothing more. There’s no magic about it.”

Raisa looked at the ring, then up at Micah’s face. What did it matter, really? She took the ring and slid it onto her forefinger, where the wolf ring had been.

Micah leaned toward her, sliding his arms around her, pulling her tightly against him. “Now kiss me,” he said. “For luck.”

C H A P T E R  F O R T Y - F O U R

A MEETING
UNDERGROUND

Han yearned for his amulet like a razorleaf user who’d missed a dose. Without it, he couldn’t even conjure light reliably. So he stayed just ahead of Bayar, using the faint light that flowed out ahead of his enemy, keeping him close enough to keep him coming on.