Luckily, I hadn’t received a message from the Elders. A part of me would have thought they would send Nimue or Fylaneiros, or possibly themselves, to haul me back. As horrifying it would have been, I would have agreed to return. It might have led to a worse outcome, but I knew better than to fight against eleven of the most powerful magical beings in the world. Well, if you discount Tiamat anyway. But I knew they wouldn’t come. They gave me the final test and that was it. Cerothun could shove his arrogant self up his arse. 