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When the fog receded from Harry's mind, he found himself in dreadful pain. It was like someone had dropped a pile of bricks on his chest, and now he could barely breathe. Trying to sort out the logistics of how he had ended up in this condition was beyond him at this point.
His vision slowly came into focus, a hazy smear of colours slowly resolving into a woman in black who stood over his bed with arms folded. Not his daughter. Larani Tal. Why was she here?
She wore an ugly scowl as she stared down at him, shaking her head in dismay. “I think we have a few things to talk about, Mr. Carlson,” she said. “Like the specifics of your skirmish with Cara Sinthel.”
Harry felt his face twist, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. “I tried to stop them,” he wheezed, surprised by the hoa
