The richly paneled door swung open in Ambassador Damarist's office high in the Hallvarr Palace. Kevlin tensed and pressed his back against the wall where he stood concealed behind the opening door. He gripped tight his belt dagger.

He risked a glance to the right and shared a fierce grin with Drystan, who stood pressed against the wall beside him. The lanky Einarri soldier's eyes glittered with lust for battle.

The two were alone in the study with Ambassador Damarist, who sat behind his long desk. He tried to look bored as he pretended to study one of the ever-present parchments bureaucrats loved so much.

A man's voice, smooth and confident, spoke from the doorway. "You'd better have a good reason for insisting I come up here so late, Ambassador. I've had a busy night."

Ambassador Damarist looked up from the parchment and frowned. "Watch your tone in my office, Remiel." His voice shook and, as he talked, his eyes flickered over to Kevlin and Drystan.

Kevlin lunged around the door. They'd warned the ambassador to keep his eyes on Remiel and not look at them.

The young man was already sprinting away through the outer office. He ran like a deer and even as Kevlin gave chase, he knew he could never catch the youth.

He didn't have to.

Jerrik, wearing a heavy coat of chain mail, stepped into the outer door just as Remiel tried to race through. The young man slammed into Jerrik and, with a loud rattle of Jerrik's armor, bounced back into the room. He crashed to the floor and lay there for a second, stunned.

Kevlin and Drystan pounced on him. Kevlin punched him in the face and Drystan wrenched his arms behind his back and yanked him to his feet. Remiel yelped with pain and struggled weakly, but Drystan held him fast. The blood dripping from Remiel's nose was a deeply satisfying sight.

Kevlin cocked his arm back, ready to throw another punch. "Sure you want to keep struggling?"

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"No. I surrender."

"Of course you do," Jerrik said as he stepped into the room. "Got no choice, do you?"

Leander and Harafin entered behind Jerrik. Harafin said, "Well done."

"Told you we could handle it," Drystan said.

Jerrik snorted. "Sure. You let him get away."

"Thank the ambassador for that," Drystan protested.

"Told you he'd crack."

"I'll have you know, I didn't crack,” Ambassador Damarist objected from the doorway to his office.

"Don't worry about it," Jerrik said. "Worked better this way. We got to hit him harder."

Kevlin tied Remiel's hands behind his back with a length of rawhide cord. Things were falling into place faster and faster. First they captured Tanathos, and now one of the key conspirators.

They'd have the entire conspiracy rooted out and executed by tomorrow night.

As he yanked the final knot tight, he realized he had no idea what they would do after they broke the conspiracy. Ever since he first stumbled upon Antigonus in the forest, they'd been rushing from one conflict to another, with hidden enemies lurking nearby, striking from the shadows. Maybe now he could relax, learn enough from Harafin to control the raging magic trying to kill him or drive him insane.

He could finally spend some quality time with Indira. That thought brought a smile to his lips.

"We have a great deal to talk about," Harafin said to Remiel. The old Sentinel considered the young man, weighing him like a merchant would a sack of grain.

Remiel's face paled and he refused to meet Harafin's gaze. He spoke quickly, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Before you do anything to me, I want to make a deal."

Drystan shook Remiel hard. "We don't need to make any deals. We own you now, and you'll tell us everything we want to know."

"Of course, but it takes a while. We can avoid a lot of unpleasantness. Look, I just want amnesty. There's things I can't talk about or I'll die. I know that. But I can tell you one thing right now that I guarantee you want to know."

"Tell me," Harafin said. "You've chosen not to trigger mind traps and take the coward's path. I will not guarantee amnesty, but if you cooperate, the process will definitely be less painful for you."

Remiel risked a glance at Harafin, his expression a mask of desperation. "It's not my fault. They force me to help. I have to protect my family."

"Hey," Ambassador Damarist said. "You can't claim that. You blackmailed me by threatening my family."

Remiel shrugged. "It's pretty standard. They do it to all of us."

"Tell me this information, and we will judge its worth," Harafin said.

"Very well. That Shadeleech you captured, Tanathos . . ."

"What about him?" Leander demanded, grabbing Remiel by the front of his shirt.

"He's escaped."