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be exiled, Mage-Knight, or help us. Your choice.”

“I already said I would help,” Cleon said. “Doesn’t mean I won’t complain every rotting step of the way.”

Fergus shook his head and sighed. “These are the men I’m to lead into the Burning Sands, Elder Ytrib? Can I not choose some others?”

“Four is already too many,” Elder Jalisa said, her voice rattling. Her expression seemed weary, which might have explained her recent reticence in the conversation.

“Who’s the fourth?” Fergus asked, his expression not holding out much hope.

“It would be one of us, but we are too old for such a long, dangerous journey,” Elder Erymmo said. “And we will need capable mages to defend Kiro, for the Queen’s agents will no doubt come here anyway. As it stands, we might even die before you do.”

“Then we must evacuate the village at once!” Fergus said.

“We will certainly do what we can,” Elder Sina said. “However, it will be impossible to hide this village. We will have to band with the other communities to give you three a head start. And hope with all of you gone, the Queen’s focus will turn away from the Deeprift.”

“If our fourth is not anyone from the village, then who is it?” Fergus asked.

Every eye then went to Elder Ytrib, whose face was a mask of sorrow. Lucian wondered why they were looking at him like that. He wasn’t going.

“There are two paths to Dara,” Elder Ytrib said. “One is through the Riftlands, which will take months to cross. And the other is through the Darkrift, which is fastest, but also the most dangerous.”

Lucian was wondering where Elder Ytrib was going with all this.

“If it were any other circumstance, I would urge the first option,” Elder Ytrib continued. “But the Sorceress-Queen has a greater chance of finding you if you travel in the open. Especially if she is roving the rifts with the Zephyr.”

Elder Jalisa scoffed. “Even if she is looking for Lucian with it, they have a better chance of survival traveling the Rifts.”

Elder Erymmo nodded at that, apparently agreeing. Lucian had to admit the Darkrift sounded ominous.

“I took the Darkrift once,” Cleon said. “I would never go that way again. I only made it here through sheer luck. Anyone who goes down there is bound to lose their way.”

“That is where your fourth comes in,” Elder Ytrib said, who was now looking at Lucian. “I believe you’ve met my daughter, Serah.”

Lucian’s eyes widened at that. Serah was his daughter? He fumbled for words at this revelation.

“No one knows the Darkrift like her. That is no guarantee of safety, but she’s been all over the Riftlands and knows more secret paths than anyone. Though she was exiled by my word, she is still my blood. I . . . love her dearly, and even now wish she were home, and not out there.” He shook his head. “But that cannot be.”

“It can be if you just give the order,” Lucian said. He wondered how the Elder could have exiled her, especially if she was his daughter. It was hard to imagine anyone doing such a terrible thing.

Fergus looked as if he wanted to punch Lucian. “No fray can live in Kiro, Lucian. Not even the daughter of an Elder. The law applies to everyone, great or small.”

Fergus was just the type of person Lucian didn’t like. The goody-two-shoes type, always following the rules to the letter, no matter the consequences, and no matter who got hurt. He didn’t have the strength to argue with him.

“I met Serah on my way down here. If not for her, I’d be dead from the wyverns and would have never found this place. She is nowhere near frayed, even if she’s showing some physical signs. Her mind seems fine.”

Elder Ytrib’s face paled, along with Gia’s, and Lucian got the feeling he had gone too far. Ytrib at last spoke, choosing to ignore Lucian’s point. “I know if you three find Serah, she will lead you as far as Dara. If anyone has mapped out Slave’s Run and the Darkrift, it’s my daughter.”

“I thought Slave’s Run was just a story,” Fergus said. “Something the Daran slaves believe because it gives them hope.”

“My daughter has told me it exists,” Elder Ytrib said. “I’ve spoken with her. Quite recently.”

Now, every eye went to him. Fergus’s expression seemed the most shocked. It meant Elder Ytrib had broken the law that all Rifters were supposed to follow.

“Yes, I’ve broken the law. Many times. But you don’t understand the pain I feel.”

“It was at my insisting,” Elder Gia said.

“No,” Elder Ytrib said. “It’s my fault alone.”

“I don’t understand,” Lucian said. “Why can’t you talk to Serah? Why have these laws in the first place? They seem . . . well, stupid.”

Elder Jalisa’s face was stony. “The Code is necessary for the safety of the Deeprift. In the past, frays have banded together and laid waste to what little farmland we have, even killing. Any fray can turn into a Burner at any moment. We have our laws for a reason. It’s how we have survived this long.”

“I admit my fault,” Elder Ytrib said. “And I’m ready to abdicate my seat on this council if others here call for it. I only said this much to let you know, beyond a doubt, that my daughter has explored the Darkrift substantially. More than that, she has located a passage she believes to be Slave’s Run.”

“Believes to be,” Elder Jalisa said. “It’s still safer to go through the Riftlands to reach the Golden Vale. It’s tenuous, yes, but my vote is for the more traditional path. That said, it might be most prudent to let Fergus decide as need dictates.”

“I will do my best,” Fergus said.

“The fate of the Worlds stands upon this tower of slender reeds,” Elder Jalisa said. “The merest breeze will displace them.”

At this sobering reminder, all went quiet.

“So, when do we begin?” Lucian asked.

Everyone looked at him, as if he should know the answer. As if

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