Spots danced before Jake’s eyes as the hood came off, and he hobbled forward, nearly overbalancing between the blinding effect of the electric lights and the bindings on his wrists and ankles. His heart pounded between his ears, and a cold sweat soaked into his sifan clothing. Even so, he had been in worse situations before. Why, the last time he was in Alerar…

As his vision returned Jake saw the twenty guns aimed at him and gulped. Perhaps he hadn’t been in worse situations. Being trapped in a burning building with a Haidian demon had been hair-raising, and fighting his way out of a bandit’s lair had proven difficult, but neither quite matched the lethality of so much hot lead. Jake raised his eyebrows.

How does coming to Ettermire always land me in such trouble?

Of course, this was somewhat different. Jake had stepped into the situation willingly, and reminded himself he could step out of it just as easily. But it had taken some doing to gain an audience with Flint Skovik, and the half elf was not about to give up on his mission. White hot anger still burned in the bottom of his heart, although with Breaker’s help he had banked the coals for the time being.

Jake recognized Flint. He’d been in the audience when Cronen had bested the behemoth of a man in the first round of Sei Orlouge’s Cell. Skovik looked even bigger and more intimidating than he had during that contest. The half elf glanced around at the gun barrels gathered on him, and then gazed up at the mountain of a man.

“All those muscles, and you still went with twenty rifles?” Jake clicked his tongue and shook out his blond locks. “Who do you think I am, Joshua Cronen?” He nearly stumbled again and, annoyed, summoned streaks of fire to burn through his bindings. The ropes fell away and Jake shook life into his limbs..

Twenty Alerarans touched the triggers of their weapons. A female human stepped up beside Skovik and spoke, her voice ringing over the buzz of electric lights.

“He’s a spy for the Hands! Seize him, and use chains this time!”

Skovik held up a massive fist before anyone could obey. It seemed impossible for a man so big to move so fast.

“What do you know of Breaker?” Skovik rumbled.

“He’s the one who gave me your location,” Jake said, “I’m looking to kill Lichensith Ulroké. Josh thought you might like to help me.”

The riflemen were too disciplined to speak, but a wave of sideways glances stole around the semicircle. The woman put her head together with the man who’d brought Jake in, conversing in hushed tones. Flint appeared to listen in, and then crossed his arms over his chest, the action like laying one tree trunk atop another. The riflemen tensed.

“What’s your name?” Skovik demanded.

“Jake Narmolanya,” the half elf gave a flourishing bow despite the situation.

Flint’s hard hazel eyes showed no sign of recognition, but he seemed to mull the name over for a time before uncrossing his arms.

“Everyone except Radek and Roxanna, out. We need a private word with Mister Narmolanya.”

Like wind up automatons the riflemen and the few who’d been in Radek’s company filed out. The smell of hot metal hung heavy in the air, floating off the lights and elevator.

Jake opened his mouth to speak, but Flint cut him off.

“Ulroké’s head is mine.”

“Very well,” Jake said. Only if you’re quicker and cleverer, he thought.

“It will be you who helps us,” Flint added, “not the other way around. What assistance can you offer?”

“I have a few useful skills,” Jake said. He glanced at the far corner of the room, where one of Radek’s lackeys had left his sheathed sword. Twin portals appeared beside Jake and the weapon, and he reached casually through and shouldered the crystal blade. The portals snapped out of existence. “Get me a general idea of where Ulroké is, and I can put you right next to him.” He placed his hands on his hips and rocked on the balls of his feet. “So you tell me how I might be of assistance.”