The truth was, if Dazen hadn’t been at least a little bit of an asshole as he delivered his offer, he knew that Ironfist would get stuck in his own head, and might actually have turned it down. Being an asshole about it directed Ironfist’s gaze outward, to the job, to the people who needed him, to the personalities he saw himself needing to rein in.
But that was fine. Dazen could pretend to be an asshole when required.
Pretend.
He said, “There’s just the one condition—well, for me. A few other people have to sign off on this, and they might really need convincing, but you know what? I am really convincing.”
“Hadn’t noticed that about you,” Ironfist said.
“So here’s the thing,” Dazen said as if it pained him. “I need you to get up, like, right now, while everyone’s distracted with the big wedding spectacle, and come do that thing with me.”
“ ‘That thing’?” Ironfist asked, sitting up more in bed. He was trying to look irritated, but Dazen could tell he was on the hook already. A man like Ironfist needed to be needed, needed to be active, or he’d just die. “You mean that adventure? I thought you were joking.”
“Nope. Has to be you. Has to be now, while everyone’s distracted.”
Ironfist hesitated. “What are you going to do with the Blinding Knife while everyone’s distracted?”
“We, you mean. As in ‘What are we going to do?’ ”
“No, I meant you. I’m not touching that thing.”
“Right, agreed. That’s fine. And I meant you’re going to help me get there to do what I have to do. So you can parse that as us doing it or as me doing it while you help me, I mean, whatever floats your—”
“Gavin!”
“Dazen.”
“Whatever!”
“Well, here’s the thing. You’ve been there, too, like I have. And there’s no one else I can trust to not succumb to them. And we’ve only got one chance to do this. Any other time, and I’m afraid they’d have allies show up. I know you don’t feel well right now. And regardless of how good I look, I’m not at my full strength, either, so I guess we’ll just be wounded warlords together.”
“ ‘Wounded warriors,’ you mean?”
“Eh, you and me? Come on. We’re a bit more than just ‘warriors,’ don’t you think?”
“Just shut up and tell me.”
Dazen finally got serious. “It’s now or never. I’ve always been proud, Harrdun. I’ve always wanted my greatness to be known, to be acknowledged. This? This will be the greatest thing I ever do, and no one will ever know it. That’s my penance. Or at least my way of showing I’ve changed. Maybe you’ll find some penance in it, too.”
“Gavin,” Ironfist said, low and dangerous. He was halfway out of his bed now. “What are we gonna do with the Blinding Knife?”
“The wedding’s a huge spectacle, not just on the mortal side but this . . . librarian? I dunno. One of them who likes Kip has arranged some spectacle on the immortal side, too. The truth is, both the mortal and the immortal spectacles are merely a distraction for two old warlords—one of whom is the last person you’d expect to go all hooded-man-sneaky—to go quietly to do something only they could possibly do, right under the noses of hundreds of watching immortals, while hoping that the right half of them are watching the wrong thing. We’ll have no allies with us, none. No help whatsoever. It’ll just be you and me, against the eight of them. We’ll take them one at a time, though, at least if we’re lucky.”
“Wait. Uh-uh. Gavin, you are not going back down to those cells to face those—”
“Oh, yes I am. And unless you want to explain to my widow afterward why you made me go alone, Commander, you are, too.” Dazen gave him the big smile that he knew Ironfist hated. “Ironfist, buddy! C’mon! We’re gonna kill us some gods.” He spun the scintillating sword on its point. “You in or what?”
Acknowledgments
Wait a second, are you one o’ them curious readers who reads acknowledgments? Even though you know your name isn’t going to be here? You shouldn’t be here! Book’s over! Scram!
Fine. One more paragraph. I know you’re a fast reader, and it’s hard to not read a little bit more than you meant to, but after this one, stop.
There are few authors who have nearly a million and a half words’ worth of riveting story to tell. The jury’s out on whether I’m one of them, and that jury includes you. So my first thanks goes to you—even though you don’t listen so well. Many of you first discovered me with my Night Angel trilogy and might’ve frowned at seeing that my next trilogy wasn’t even set in the same world. Worse, the trilogy then became a tetralogy, then a pentalogy. (The man can’t even count to three?!) But you gave Lightbringer, and me, a chance.
I’ve given my all to repay those acts of faith with these books. I will never take such trust for granted. I hope and strive to bring you joy and more.
Thank you for your graciousness as this final book took an extra year. For me it was worth the ink, sweat, and tears to present you with something I can be proud of.
Thank you to my editor, Brit Hvide, who took on a series after it was already a million words long—and an author who had difficulties understanding the term ‘deadline.’ Thank you for working to give this project the time and space and the pacing and polish it needed. Few authors understand the complexities of your job, but thank you for all you do.
Thanks to Bryn A. McDonald for taking on the mammoth task of producing a book of this size and complexity, and to my heroic copy editers. (Hi! Yep, I’m totally stetting that!) Thanks to Lauren Panepinto and your team for consistently brilliant covers and so much more besides. No one finds out what’s in a book if they never pick it up, so pretty much all my success is because of you. (Bring this up the next time you ask for a raise.) Thank you to Laura, Ellen, Alex, Paola, Nivia, and to the rest of the team at Orbit US, UK, and AUS.
Thank you to my translators. I can’t even tell how ingenious you are, because I are American and thus more polygluttonous than polyglotinous, yet I know from my brief, bruising encounters with little Latin and less Greek how much effort goes into your work. I do think of you when I write plays on words—and usually just laugh. Writing is pain. Should translation not be? (But seriously, sorry for the Gunner chapters.)
Thank you to my beta readers: John, Tim, Elisa, Heather, and John again for also being my gamma reader, and Keith for being my alpha to omega reader.
Thank you to my agent, Donald Maass. You have been a tireless advocate and a straight shot of sanity. Thanks to Katie for all the follow-up e-mails to foreign publishers and for the continual education on a complex business.
Thank you to Simon Vance, my audiobook narrator. With your skills, you bring all the benefits of adding talents together and none of the drawbacks. I am so glad you were brought to this project under false pretenses.
Thanks to Joseph Mondragon. I came across your synopses of Lightbringer online and realized to my great chagrin and greater delight that they were better than mine. (Turns out that writing a huge book and describing briefly what happens in it are different skills. Who’da thunk?) So I did what people do on the Internet and stole your work. I hope you never read this. Please don’t sue me. (I’m kidding. I got his permission.) Joseph’s (somewhat edited) work appears here. Any errors are mine—but would be seriously ironic.