Valek dodged the blade, but soon both daggers were sailing through the air and there wasn’t enough room to maneuver. He put his back against the wall and waited to grab the weapons when they came close, risking a nasty slice. However, once Tyen caught on to his plan, the man just pinned Valek in place with his magic. Shit.

Pulling power, Valek projected into Tyen’s mind. A strong barrier prevented Valek from getting inside.

Tyen stared at him. “Never thought you’d stoop to using blood magic, but that’s the only way to explain your magic.”

Valek didn’t bother to correct him.

“You can’t be as strong or as skilled as I am.” Tyen spun the knives in the air until their tips aimed at Valek’s throat.

“If you stop now, I’ll let you live,” Valek said.

“I’m a dead man regardless. You know that. Least I can do is take you with me.” The blades shot toward Valek.

Desperate, Valek yanked a big chunk of magic. With no time to knit a null shield, he shaped it into a spear and drove it into Tyen’s mental barrier with all his strength. It punched a hole right though, flooding Tyen’s mind with Valek’s magic.

Stop! Valek commanded. Sleep!

The man and knives dropped to the ground. Valek peeled away from the wall. The dungeon reeled under his feet as his muscles turned to goo. Collapsing to his knees, Valek scraped his remaining energy together to fumble underneath the jumpsuit. He clawed the flesh-colored putty away from a set of lock picks. He managed to toss them to Adrik before the world spun around him, sending him into a whirlwind of blackness.

* * *

Valek woke up in the infirmary. His wrists were cuffed to the metal bars of the bed’s headboard, and his ankles were cuffed to the footboard. He would have laughed at how utterly ridiculous it was to secure him, but he didn’t have the strength to even produce a sound. At least he wasn’t in the dungeon. Small mercies. The next time he woke, Medic Mommy tsked over him. Every single muscle in his body ached, and just the thought of moving sent him back into oblivion.

The third time he roused, he wondered if this was how a newborn felt—unable to do anything but suck liquids. He stopped counting after that. His moments of wakefulness blurred together. Maren’s visit eased his worries for her. She reported that both Tyen and Owen were dead. He wished to know how Tyen had died, but that required too much effort.

Instead, he asked, “Rika?” in a whisper.

Maren frowned. “You need to rest. As near as the medic can tell, you’re suffering from a complete, full-body exhaustion.” She stood to leave. “Was all that about the null shield just a ruse this entire time? If so, it was a pretty damn good one.”

So why did she act so unhappy? Was she upset to be left behind when everyone else had gone to Sitia?

Summoning the strength to talk, he said, “No.”

She huffed as if she didn’t believe him, then strode from the room without answering his question about Rika. Maren didn’t return, and over the next few days, Valek regained some of his vigor. Enough so that he longed to sit up and move around, but Medic Mommy also dodged his questions about why he’d been secured.

When he woke next, the Commander stood at the foot of his bed.

“Interesting scar,” he said, pointing to Valek’s bare chest.

The blanket only covered the bottom half of him. He would worry, but the altered scar was the least of his problems at the moment.

“A wedding present for Yelena,” Valek said.

“Ah, yes. I heard about that. And you’ve a baby on the way, too. Congratulations.”

Nice words, but the tone was flat and...dangerous. “Thank you.”

The Commander pulled a chair over to the bed and sat down. “I should thank you for killing that bastard, Owen.”

“Are you—”

“Yes. I’m in full control.” Fury blazed in his gaze for a moment. “Just when I start thinking that magicians aren’t all corrupt and power-hungry, along comes proof that I’m right not to trust them.”

“You agreed to work with Owen,” Valek said. “If you’d executed—”

“I made a mistake,” the Commander snapped. “And I paid for it.” He smoothed an invisible wrinkle from his pant leg. “You saved me yet again. I should thank you for that, as well.”

Should didn’t mean he would. Valek rattled the cuffs. “Not the best way to express your gratitude.”

“You’re a traitor, Valek. You’re helping Sitia, and you were a magician.” He spat the word as if it tasted vile in his mouth.

But it wasn’t the m-word that snagged Valek’s attention. Were. He reached for the power blanket. Nothing. Exhaustion or Harman sap? Did it matter?

Yes, it did. The answer surprised him.

“How long did you hide it from me?” the Commander asked.

“I didn’t hide it. It happened on my return trip from the coast.” He explained what had occurred by Vincent’s grave. “All those who said my immunity to magic was a form of magic were right. No one was more astonished than I.”

The Commander showed no emotion. “You still should have reported back to me.”

“You were under Owen’s influence, and I’m well aware of your views. It would have been a death sentence.” The conversation had drained his energy. Valek wouldn’t last much longer. “My corps?”

“Pardoned.”

That was a relief. “Am I still first in line to be barbequed?”