But Tristan's haunted eyes remained downcast, jaw set in grim, unyielding lines as he shook his head in bitter futility.
"And how, pray tell, am I meant to undertake this fated quest you speak of?" His ragged tone seethed with scathing sarcasm as the chains binding his wrists jangled with contemptuous emphasis. "I am shackled like a beast in this accursed chamber, surrounded at all hours by the Cysgodol's elite guards. Their foul enchantments have stripped me of all but the barest dregs of my preternatural powers."
His eyes blazed as he faced his spectral brother. "Or perhaps you think I've suddenly gained your ability to walk through walls?"
Malcolm's spectral form regarded him cooly, his translucent outline rippling like moonlight on water. "Tell me again, brother - who are you?"
"Yo
