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Baltisse is pacing. Dawsyn has never seen her pace, and it serves to draw her attention away from this hideous room and it hideous contents, and reminds her that there are worse things to learn than the practices of a vanished king.

“Baltisse?” Dawsyn calls to her, and the mage stops. She looks from Dawsyn to Ryon, and her jaw moves, as though in restraint, her teeth grinding at the effort.

Ryon frowns, disturbed. “Are you truly without words, Baltisse?”

She narrows her eyes. “I want to be sure my words won’t ignite a war the second I say them.”

“I spent years waiting to strike when the time was nigh, and now you doubt my control?”

“Not yours,” Baltisse says. “Hers.”

All eyes fall to Dawsyn.

The mage observes her with shrewd calculation.

“You’re concerned for my control?”

The mage sighs. “Your lack thereof.”

Dawsyn does not wish to waste time in idle debate. She does not bother to quip and argue, because if it isDawsyn’scontrol she fears, then surely what she means to reveal pertains to the Ledge, and the people on it.

And what could be worse than what they already know? What could be more dire than leaving them stranded?

Dawsyn’s breath stops.

The mage grimaces.

Ryon curses.

And Dawsyn has her fears realised in Baltisse’s expression. She sees it when the mage reads her thoughts and confirms them in her lack of denial.

“Would someone fill me in?” Tasheem asks, and the question echoes around Dawsyn’s skull, for she is already gone, her mind skipping ahead to where she will go and what she will do.

“Adrik,” Baltisse says aloud, “has been drinking from the pool, and he plans to continue. In fact, he has gathered a band of fellows, who seek to do the same.”

“Drink from the Pool of Iskra?” Ruby asks, her head turning to Dawsyn. “But, why?”

“Power,” Ryon answers, and his voice is an awakened creature of another realm. “Control.”

“Immortality,” Tasheem concludes, her breaths short.

Adrik, sitting in the place of the king, feeding his chosen few all the food and drink and luxury they could possibly want.Dawsyn bites her tongue and tastes blood.

“But… he would need human souls,” Ruby says.

He would. He does.

“Stop her!” Baltisse shouts.

Ryon’s hand reaches for her.

And Baltisse’s magic wraps Dawsyn in a vice.

But Dawsyn’s own magic has not merely awoken, but exploded, and with an almighty flash of brilliant light, the bindings Baltisse meant to stop her fall away, and Dawsyn is running, running, running.

For Adrik, the newest king of Glacia,willneed human souls, and there is a herd of them across the Chasm, ripe for the picking.

Somewhere behind her, Ryon curses again, and calls, “Get Rivdan, if you can!” and he falls into pursuit close behind.