The two not-human men who probably kidnapped Taraana appear, dragging him into the chamber, accompanied by another middle worlder. The other men move aside, and Taraana is placed on a chair in the middle, his legs shackled and his hands tied behind his back. One of them hits him on the head, and I force myself not to march over and kill him right at that moment.

I can’t see him clearly; the light is too dim. Perhaps this is a blessing. His head hangs down and his shoulders are slumped. His entire body is an expression of defeat. I hate myself.

“I will go distract them. Try to get the pendant around his neck when I’m gone,” Tabassum Naaz whispers, looking at me. I must make some gesture of acknowledgment because she straightens up and walks into the chamber, surprising all the men there.

“What took you so long?” she says to them, not at all intimidated. Her confidence cows them. Perhaps they remember that she’s the Dar’s only granddaughter.

The middle worlders make some noise about traffic.

Tabassum Naaz waves her hands dismissively. “My grandfather?”

“He went to receive his friends, my lady,” one of the men says. “They plan a celebration now that they’ve caught the keeper.”

“I see,” Tabassum Naaz says. “I need all of you to come with me. I saw some of the girls the keeper travels with outside, and I can’t capture them all alone.”

Will they believe her? They have no reason not to, but then again, there’s very little reason for them to obey her.

We are surprised when most of the men immediately agree to go look for us. Of the eight middle worlders, only one is left behind. I don’t hesitate. As soon as Tabassum Naaz and the other men are out of sight, I break away. Talei takes care of the remaining middle worlder. A scream in his unsuspecting ear. My eyes are for Taraana alone.

His face is covered with bruises. There is a gash on his forehead, and his lips are bleeding. His eyes are closed but I don’t think he’s unconscious.

“Taraana,” I whisper, and he opens pain-filled eyes. I told him I’d be here, waiting for him. He exhales, tension flowing out of him.

Without another word, I put the chain containing the pendant around his neck. “Do you remember the word to awaken the pendant?”

He nods as if he doesn’t trust himself to speak.

“I’m here. If you can’t do this, say so. I will take you away right now.” I don’t care about the logistics.

He shakes his head. We hear the sound of voices. “Go,” he hisses. “Be safe.”

It kills me that he, the one who’s shackled to the chair, is telling me to be safe. I run back into the shadows where the others are waiting.