I rolled to my side, taking in the tall, broad man standing before me. Van Lagos had changed since we last met. His leather armour was stained with sweat. His white clothing underneath was soiled with dirt and grime. His black beard and hair had grown long and wild. And sharp cheekbones poked through a narrower face. But his eyes… like rubies polished to a mirror shine. Those eyes were the same, and they stared at me with iron-clad conviction.

"How?" I asked.

Van Lagos grinned wider, laughing as he spoke.

"I've been following you for weeks, Jacob. So many weeks…"

"But Thor..."

I glanced at the boar. He was stepping back, trying to put as much distance between himself and the feral Dahlgeshi.

I didn't blame him.

"Lira told me about your pet pig," Van said. "How he sniffed her out despite being downwind. I knew to keep my distance and bide my time, but travelling underground-"

He laughed.

"That was clever. It would have worked if I weren't myself a smuggler. Even as I pursued you, I feared I was walking into a trap. That your companion mage would collapse the tunnel on my head. But are you the one who is caught and you're companion…"

Van Lagos glanced to his right, to the smoking wreckage of Rugar's bed.

My vision blurred, warm salty tears running down my face.

No… Not again…

Van Lagos spoke.

"I'm sorry, Jacob. Truly. But this is the universe righting itself. You killed Lira in front of me, and now your companion suffers the same fate."

Another blonde burned alive on a bed… No… NO!!!

I shook my head, blinking away the tears.

ISLA IS ALIVE!!!

I bared my teeth and growled from the depths of my soul. Bubbles of spit sprayed between my clenched teeth and dribbled down my chin. I didn't care. Isla was alive, and Van Lagos would die. These beliefs were as real as the rising of the sun and the ground beneath my feet.

I stood up, putting my dagger in my right hand and twisting my short sword free with my left.

My eyes fixed on Van Lagos, never breaking to glance at the bed. In the deepest, darkest corner of my mind, Shay's words echoed.

A lie so powerful that even you believe it… SHUT UP!

Isla was alive. I needed her to be alive. I was facing Van Lagos. Any doubts, any weakness would mean death.

Van Lagos nodded with approval, returning my death glare with a warm smile.

"I see Gesh in you, Jacob and the Dahlese heroes of old."

He looked around the smoking tent.

"The place is too confining for our duel. Shall we fight outside?"

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He pointed his steel scimitar at something over my shoulder: the tent door.

I gave him a curt nod, not taking my eyes off the Dahlgeshi. Behind me, Dugan and Castille lumbered to their feet.

"Jacob?"

"Help Isla! Please..."

Silence fell over the tent, and then the two veterans marched past me to sort through the wreckage.

Van Lagos and I didn't take our eyes off each other.

"Ready?" He asked.

"Ready."

I walked backwards out of the tent, using the light from the noon sun to guide my way. Once I was free of the smoky haze, I risked a quick look over my shoulder. The camp below us was buzzing with activity. Men swarmed out of their tents, wielding weapons, picking up their shields and filling quivers with arrows.

"Friends of yours?" Van Lagos asked.

He stepped out of the tent with an easy grace, like someone walking into a room of admirers.

I hated it. I hated him.

How our roles had reversed.

"They're enemies," I said.

Van Lagos laughed.

"With you, it's one and the same."

He walked off to the edge of the hill, watching the mercenaries get in formation.

"Are we fighting or what?!" I asked, my weapons raised.

Van Lagos glanced in my direction and then continued to look down the hill.

"Are you so eager to die, Jacob? I am giving you a gift in return for the one you gave me."

"What gift?!" I asked.

"Look around you. Feel the heat beating on your skin. The wind flowing through your hair. Savour these last moments of life—few get the chance, fewer know how."

He raised his arms to the side, inhaling a deep breath through his nose and then exhaling with a satisfied sigh.

"I thank you, Jacob. You gave me true freedom."

What was he talking about?

"You freed me from the politics, the scheming, the money-grubbing, all the things that stop us from enjoying this..."

He swept his scimitar over our view of Luskaine.

It was beautiful… if you ignored the small army about to kill us.

"If I freed you, then why do you want to kill me?" I asked.

Van Lagos turned to look at me. A sad smile creased his bearded face.

"Because my brother and Lira loved me, and even though that love was a cage, it was the one thing that mattered more than my freedom."

His lips twitched into a snarl.

"They will be avenged, and when they find your spirit in the sea of souls, they will know their love was returned."

"Or I kill you and you get to tell them yourself."

Van Lagos flashed a feline grin.

"Then no matter what happens today, I win."

He spun on the balls of his feet and dashed toward me! The distance between us closed in seconds.

I threw my dagger and rolled to the right.

He batted the weapon aside with his steel sword and turned to face me, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

I knew why.

I'd let him take the high ground, putting myself on the hill's downward slope.

Van Lagos smirked and raised both hands over his right shoulder for a diagonal slash of steel and fire.

I ducked the swing and lashed out with my short sword, stabbing at his lead foot. He moved his foot to the side as he swung, throwing himself off balance.

I pulled back my weapon and stepped lower down the hill.

Almost had him.

Contrary to common sense, fighting from the high ground was often a disadvantage in a duel. It limited your potential targets to the upper body while leaving the lower body open. Van Lagos could kill me if I wasn't careful, but it gave me an advantage in a battle of attrition.

Van Lagos smiled.

"More elven tricks? Well, I have my own."

His fiery scimitar transformed into a spear held in a reverse grip. He lunged forward, stabbing down at my head. I slipped to the left. Van Lagos twisted his wrist to the side and the butt of the spear careened at my face. I ducked, the heat singeing my hair. His second attack hid a scimitar swing with his right hand. At the last moment, I raised my short sword to block.

CLANG!

The scimitar banged against my blade, knocking my short sword into my left collarbone.

Spirits below!

I stumbled back.

Van Lagos followed through with his swing, riding back the momentum to wind back his left arm and throw his spear.

I let myself fall backward, the fiery spear grazing my nose. I tucked into a roll, willing my dagger into my right hand and stabbing it into the ground to skid to a stop.

I whipped my head up as Van Lagos raised his open palm. My eyes went wide.

Here it comes!

A torrent of fire rolled down the hill. It flowed like water and sounded like the gravel dumped by the street crews who maintained the roads.

I let go of my dagger, raising my hand to shoot my own stream of fire. It was small by comparison, my flames getting lost in his.

I commanded the fire to split around me, but another will refused—Van Lagos' will.

The fire wasn't mine…

It was his!

I sheathed my short sword, conjured an orange orb over my left hand and threw it in front of me.

KABOOOM!!!

I forced the explosion forward, and my body flew back. For a moment, I was weightless, and in the next, I was falling.

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