"Light," said Asandir, "and shadow, granted intact upon conception. That's enough to destroy the Mistwraith, but only if the half-brothers work jointly. I'll add that our princes are opposites with a heritage of bloodfeud between them."
Sensitized to the cold, deadly burden of the weapon in his lap, Dakar shivered. "Do the princes understand their gifts?"
"One does." A log fell. Sparks flurried across an acid silence. Then Asandir reached down and tested the sword's cruel edge with his finger. "Athera's sunlight might be perilously bought."
