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“Sigil,” he hissed. “Someone’s coming.”

She went wide-eyed in the darkness. “It isn’t the right time.”

Down the corridors, a door hinge creaked, the sound of it like thunder. The jingle of keys and clank of armor followed, the many noises a haunting song in the darkness.

Dom strained against his bindings again, twisting his wrists against old iron and good steel.

Sigil pressed her face out of her cell as far as she could, straining to see anything beyond the blackness. Her massive hands curled around the bars, knuckles going white.

The torchlight returned, growing steadily as it traveled along the corridor. Dom strained his ears, listening as carefully as he could. Footsteps came with the light.

Not two pairs of boots but—

Dom’s eyes widened.

He held up seven fingers, hoping Sigil would see them in the growing torchlight. Across the cell, she nodded grimly and slunk back from the bars, careful not to clink her chain. When she reached the far wall, she gathered the slack she could, looping the iron chain around her arm. It was the best weapon she had besides her own two fists.

Dom could do nothing but wait. He swallowed again, raising his chin, his jaw clenched. Ready to bite if he must.

Then the light rounded the far corner of the corridor, and Dom realized there were two torches coming toward them. Their usual jail guards led the way, followed by four soldiers. These men were not jailers, but knights of the castle garrison. One carried a dark shape over one shoulder, slung like a pack of dirty laundry.

Dom barely noticed it, his eyes flying to the rear of the formation.

Ronin smirked back at him, his white face glowing in the darkness, his robes the color of scarlet rage. Dom’s vision tipped sideways, his blood roaring again.

“Good morning,” he said as they approached. “It is morning, did you know?”

Angry as he was, Dom felt a burst of grim satisfaction. Ronin limped along at a ragged pace, leaning heavily on a cane. Any magic the wizard possessed was not enough to heal what Valtik did three weeks ago. Dom could still hear the deep crack of snapping bone.

Dom drew a ragged breath. “Bring me Taristan.”

The wizard’s laughter echoed cruelly off the stone walls.

“Domacridhan, I know this is a new situation for you,” the red wizard sneered, passing his cell. “But you’re a prisoner of the Prince of Old Cor. You don’t get to demand anything ever again.”

“Cowards, all of you,” Dom barked, his neck flexing against his collar.

In her cell, Sigil scowled, still pressed against the wall with the chain in hand. Ronin was careful to keep to the middle of the corridor, out of her reach.

Dom grimaced. “What’s it like to be outsmarted by a teenager?Again?”

The wizard stopped in his tracks, a milk-pale hand twitching at his side. He turned himself around with some effort, relying on his cane. Dom glimpsed the outline of some kind of brace beneath his robes.

“I would hardly call dumb luck being outsmarted—” he started, all but huffing. Then he stopped short, allowing himself another small laugh. He shook his head and slicked back his thin blond hair, plastering the greasy strands to his scalp. “No, I won’t gloat. It is unbecoming of a wizard, and the left hand of the Torn King.”

With Taristan at His right, Dom thought, his skin crawling.

The Elder’s unease pleased the wizard. Ronin’s grin widened, stretching across his face until Dom thought his head might split. He took a menacing step toward Dom, while the jailers made for an empty cell, and shoved a key into its lock.

“Besides,” Ronin purred, still smiling, “we all know who the truebrains of your Companions is.” He tipped a finger, a signal to the knight. “Andsheisn’t much use anymore.”

Ice shot through his veins, and Dom’s body went numb.

Distantly, he heard Sigil snarl and slam against her own bars. She shouted something in Temur, a curse or a threat. Her cries rattled uselessly against stone walls and iron bars.

The knight with the sack over his shoulder stepped into the open cell, while the others looked on in silence. Ronin kept his eyes on the immortal. Dom felt his gaze like a needle.

Time slowed and the knight slung off his burden. The sack wasn’t tied shut and it opened easily, emptying its contents.