Han didn’t know how to answer that question, in the past or present tense. “She was important to me. I had to try to save her.”

“Did she live?” Crow asked. “Was all that sacrifice worth it?”

“She’s alive,” Han said. “I haven’t decided whether it was worth it or not.”

Crow laughed, and it was unexpectedly charming. “You’re learning, Alister. I told you not to go to war over a woman. Though you must be a foolhardy sort if you came back here.”

“I’m still not convinced you’re telling the truth,” Han said. “I’ve asked someone to join us here. Someone I trust.”

Crow’s smile faded, replaced by irritation. “No. Absolutely not. Our bargain was you come alone. No one else is supposed to know I even exist.”

“Our bargain was you’d help me against the Bayars. Not treat me like a sweet mark. You’ve got no business squeaking about the rules now.”

Crow began pacing back and forth. “I’m trying to protect you. The Bayars have been trying to pry me free of that amulet for a thousand years. If they find out that you can communicate with me, what do you think will happen to you? Do you look forward to hours of torture in the dungeon at Aerie House? I’ve been there, and, believe me, I have no desire to go back.”

“When you meet my friend, you’ll realize there’s not much chance he’ll cackle to the Bayars,” Han said. “Or that they’d listen if he did. It’s too late anyway, I—” As if he’d called Dancer by speaking of him, the air between them thickened and rippled, and Dancer appeared, clad in fine ceremonial clan garb.

Crow took two steps back, eyes wide, raising his arms in defense. Instinctively, Han stepped between Dancer and Crow. Dancer looked momentarily disoriented, then fixed his gaze on Crow.

“You’re smaller than I expected,” Dancer said, cocking his head. “And no flaming eyes.”

Crow grew fractionally larger and more brilliant, like a peacock displaying his plumage, or a streetlord making show. “A copperhead? You brought a copperhead here to meet me?” Crow lowered his arms slowly, staring at Dancer like he was a demon himself. “No,” he whispered, his brow furrowed. “That’s not right. You’re a wizard disguised as a copperhead.”

Dancer fingered his talisman. “Of course I’m a wizard, or I wouldn’t be here. I’m also clan.”

“Hayden Fire Dancer, meet Alger Waterlow,” Han said, rather formally.

Crow seemed as edgy as a cat in Ragmarket. “There’s something about you,” he whispered, his eyes riveted on Dancer. “Something…hidden. Something dangerous. Something you don’t want anybody to see. Have we met before?”

Dancer shook his head. “This is only my second time in Aediion.”

“We have some questions to ask you, all right?” Han said, beginning to lose patience.