Tam had been more like his teenage son, Talon, than he’d care to admit, and had successfully destroyed anything resembling a relationship with his teacher. For all we knew, when we found him, Kesyn Badru might try to turn Tam into something squishy on sight or simply kill him. From what I’d heard about Tam’s youthful indiscretions, I really wouldn’t blame Kesyn Badru in the least.

The way things were stacking up, Sarad Nukpana might be easier to deal with.

Kesyn Badru was an expert on Reapers. Reapers basically worked for Death, gathering wayward souls and taking them to where they needed to go next. When we opened the Saghred, we needed plenty of Reapers standing by for the cleanup of any souls who refused to move along nicely.

Bottom line: slicing into the Saghred with the Scythe of Nen and letting the souls inside go free could make it possible for us to destroy the stone.

Or not.

And since I was bound to the Saghred, the Reapers we needed to collect the souls might collect me, too.

Or not.

Yesterday Sarad Nukpana’s thief had forced our hand. We had no choice but to try to do all of the above. And if it let me—or Mychael, if I wasn’t alive to do it myself—smash the thing into a million pieces, it would be worth it. Simply stealing the Saghred back was no longer an option. Sarad Nukpana had to be stopped, and whatever I had to do would be worth it.

If I died, I would have died to save millions from torment, slavery, or death at Sarad Nukpana’s hands. I’d been telling myself all night that it’d be a good and noble death.

I’d never been more terrified in my life. I was almost sick with it.