Dancer stared at the amulet. Then looked up at Han. “He’s been hiding in an amulet? I know a lot about flashpieces, and I never heard of that.” He bit off a piece of string from a bundle in his pocket. “There are lots of wizards in Oden’s Ford,” he said. “Even more in the Fells. Don’t you think it’s more likely Crow is one of them?” He finished one braid, wrapping the lower end with colorful thread, and began another.

Han spooned highland leaf into cups, then poured boiling water over it.

“And why won’t he tell you who he is if he wants to partner with you?” Dancer continued.

“Originally he meant to use me—not partner with me,” Han said. “But the talisman you made put a stop to that. So last time we met, he told me who he really is.”

Dancer leaned forward. “And?”

Han took a breath and spit it out. “He claims he’s Alger Waterlow. The last Wizard King of the Fells.”

Dancer’s hands stilled themselves, and he frowned. “So you’re meeting with someone who claims to be the Demon King, who nearly destroyed the world.”

Han nodded.

Dancer gazed at him, speechless, for what seemed like forever. “And you mean to keep meeting with him?” he said finally, shaking his head.

Han nodded again.

“I don’t like it,” Dancer said, with his usual gift for understatement. “Either he’s lying, which is bad. Or he could be telling the truth, which is worse.” He blew on his tea to cool it. “Much worse.”

“I don’t like it either,” Han admitted. “But it’s the only hand I have to play. That’s why I asked you here—to get your opinion.”

“How am I supposed to give you an opinion when I’ve never even met him?” Dancer said. He sipped his tea, brow furrowed. Then he thumped the mug down on the hearthstone. “That’s it. I need to meet him and see for myself.”

“Well…” Han thought about this. “He can’t come here, so you’d need to go back to Aediion. And he’ll be furious that I brought you along.”

“Why is that?” Dancer said. “Why doesn’t he want anyone else to see him? What is he hiding?”

“He says he knows secrets the Bayars are hot for. If they find out I can talk to him, we’re done.”

“That’s convenient, don’t you think?” Dancer snorted. “Why should you believe him, Hunts Alone? What has he ever done but try to use you to get what he wants?”

Dancer was right. In truth, since Rebecca had turned into Raisa, Han had lost faith in his own judgment. How could he have been so wrong about her? How could he have missed that he was walking out with a princess?