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It had been a complete madhouse. Explosions and earthquakes. Battles breaking out in the middle of crowds. Blood and screaming and running and fighting.

Worse still, he knew now in retrospect that he himself had been among the luckier ones, too. Not only did he manage to escape, but the timing of things could have been far worse for him. He’d only been visiting the Golden Fort for a few days, serving as an apprentice to his much older cousin, who happened to be Lord Hamza’s second son. If he hadn’t been at the Golden Fort, he would have been back in Zebul, most likely in his little hut along the outskirts of Qalatin Castle.

And Zebul was much closer to the border with Calthos than Kuros was. If things had been that bad at the Golden Fort of all places, then he couldn’t even imagine what Qalatin looked like now. He just hoped it was still standing. And that he would see it again, one day.

He’d been trying not to dwell on it too much, though. His reaper, Orolix, had been trying to keep him focused. News would come in time. Whenever they managed to get back up to the surface, most likely. It was more important to stay alert.

Logically, Taj knew the reaper was right. And he tried to listen.

But it was so difficult. He knew only too well that he wasn’t the correct person for this job. This wasn’t supposed to be his role.

Thus far, Taj had only ever been meant to observe and learn from his more experienced kin. And to do as he was told. Silently.

And most certainly, he had not been meant to end up in the custodianship of Ivan, the Salesman of Death.

But that is exactly what happened. Instead of returning home to Zebul, he’d been tasked with protecting a frozen head and thrown into a giant hole.

Far from ideal, to say the least.

Even now, he still didn’t know what had become of his Hahl. Of his cousins or even Lord Hamza himself. The group of people he’d managed to escape with into the Undercrust had been hounded incessantly by Abolish pursuers, and now, there were only a handful of them left.

At this point, he was the most powerful warrior in their little troupe.

Which was terrifying.

His elder cousin, Jafar Dagher, had been the one leading them until only two days ago, when their pursuers had caught up to them again.