“There’s one more way,” Lady Zoya said. “We can link with each other to overcome the wards. Linking with all the daeva will be more than enough to counteract those barriers—not even a Faceless of Druj’s caliber could withstand all seven. But with such potential for destruction, Tea isn’t in any shape to confront Druj on her own. If the rest of us could tap into the reserves she holds, it will be enough. But we’ll need to lure Druj out of the ring and into the open. If we can’t bring the daeva to her, then let’s bring her to them instead.”

The daeva retreated farther as we approached the ranges. “Garindor was right,” Lord Kalen said. “There is something within these ruins that they fear, and I suspect it isn’t Druj’s wards. We can convince them to linger by the entrance, but they’ll take no further steps.”

There was nothing majestic or breathtaking about the Ring of Worship. There was only a long stretch of sand within that circle of mountains, no more than one or two kilometers in diameter, with only a narrow passage as entrance and exit. The sky was a giant, blue eye above us, peering in. Strange, yellowing plants—pale and unhealthy looking yet thriving despite the lack of rain—crept along the edges where the mountains threw meager shade.

There were no stones or monuments to decorate this place, no inkling that four great warriors had entered here and never left. Rashnu’s accounts of his comrades’ fates had talked of a sacred tree, of a light so fierce that it had turned able warriors into nothing in an instant. I stepped warily inside, searching for unseen dangers I knew I had no skill at sighting.

Druj showed no such prudence. She stood at the very center with her back to us, staring down at her feet as the Dark asha approached. The strange woman wore a cowl to obscure her vision, carefully wrapped in heavy robes to deter the sun’s heat. Beside her was the only patch of green on the desolate field—a paltry festering of weedy plants with tiny, apple-shaped fruit that swayed gently in the wind.

Kalen signaled for us to stay behind, letting his beloved walk on alone. “Whatever you do,” he muttered tersely, “do not stray too close to those runeberries.”

“They’re unlike any runeberries I’ve ever seen before,” Lady Zoya murmured.

Lord Khalad grunted in understanding. “The First Harvest, aren’t they?”

“I would have thought they’d look more impressive…”

“So did four of the Great Heroes, I’d wager, and it cost them their lives.”

The Faceless spoke up. “I take it you have saved your Odalian king and other kingdoms besides.”