By the time the others returned, I had a headache from her shrieks.
For now,
“How sure are you that the Hazo aim to make amends?” I asked Greydusk.
The demon’s gray skin paled, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing me.
“That might be best.”
“We can’t spend too much longer here,” Chance said. “Or the other castes will get jealous.”
“An astute observation.”
I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of this before. “Is there a palace somewhere? Or a royal residence the castes weren’t allowed to claim?”
“There is,” Greydusk replied slowly. “Likely to be in rags and ruins, however. It’s been…uninhabited since Ninlil left us.”
“Then let’s make our intentions clear. I’m tired of running. Tired of hiding. Take me there.” The crack of demand in my voice, well, it came partly from me and partly from her.
Maybe that fusion she’d mentioned was already under way. Even as I loathed her, it was better than losing myself entirely. I would dig in and cling to it as long as possible, fight tooth and nail. I’d never resign myself to captivity in my own head. Power over demons ran on my father’s side of the family; that must count for something.
We marched out of the Dohan stronghold as we’d come. I kept my eyes straight ahead, and none of the lesser demons dared look at me long enough to detect a difference from the day before. I ignored them all, and that seemed to suffice.
Finally, I had a handle on the situation. I’d use my power, such as it was, to get the Hazo to set Shannon free. That was smarter than attacking the warrior caste. If I fought them, that would indicate that I saw them as a worthy foe. If I
Outside the Dohan compound, we didn’t have a chance to arm up before they pounced. A flash of magick fell on me like a net. The queen howled her bootless fury, but I was already caught, an insect in amber. All around me, the air felt thick and slow. I couldn’t move so much as my fingertips.
“Corine!” That strangled cry was the last I heard from Chance.
I couldn’t even turn my head to see how he fared.
A magician stepped forward, clad in midnight robes etched in bloodred sigils. His hair was long, twined in complicated plaits, and vestigial horns sprouted from his forehead. “Load them up quickly, before the snare wears off.”
For once, I didn’t disagree. Too bad about the Vortex Greydusk had mentioned. Otherwise, I could call the Gorder to save us again once the spell failed. They couldn’t keep the snare alive forever with the queen working to dismantle it. I gave her the lead, knowing I had no hope of setting us free. But this time my world didn’t go dark. It was like I sat at her shoulder, watching. Still here. Still me.
I wasn’t ready to accede, but I was closer, and she had to know that. How many times had she made this offer? How many times could I be strong enough to decline? I tasted her triumph on the tip of my tongue.
Her displeasure flashed through me.
I racked my brain—and then I made the connection. Greydusk had said only the Saremon could have created the magus trap; now the queen recognized the smell of their magick. Which meant they had tried to capture us once already. That knowledge didn’t help at the moment, but it might down the line. While I waited, helpless, a minion loaded my frozen body into the back of a cart. There, they bound me and sealed my mouth with a foul- tasting mixture. Then they stole my athame and the packs containing all my worldly goods…and Shannon’s.
And though the dark queen approved, it was my thought.
All mine.
At this angle, I couldn’t see anything but the sky. No way to judge how Chance fared, Greydusk or Butch, either. I just had Ninlil raging in my head, and for the first time, I understood her position perfectly. I took a mental step closer to the union she wanted. This life might not be so bad.
The journey passed in a haze of white-hot rage. In time, the spell weakened, but not enough for me to do more than wiggle my fingers and toes. I was still helpless when more goons dragged me out. Adding to my sense of vulnerability, they blindfolded me and towed me like a statue for a while. I had no sense of direction, only the idea that we’d gone inside, from the cessation of the wind. A door shut somewhere behind us, reinforcing that impression.
At last, they removed the cloth from my eyes. I couldn’t speak with my lips sealed, and I had the horrible fear they intended to stuff and mount me. First, they would cut out my insides, fill me with sawdust, replace my eyes with blue glass, and then sew my mouth together for all eternity.
“You must be wondering about my intentions,” said a deep voice behind me.
For obvious reasons, I held still. I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t turn to face him. I’d never felt so powerless in my life. Doubtless, that was exactly what they intended. So I waited for him to tell me more. Even Ninlil quieted, listening with a silence that burned with hate and the promise of awful retribution.
“The Saremon care nothing for politics. Nothing for the human realm either. But arcane power? We care a great deal about that. So we will use you in our experiments, of course.” The magician paused significantly.
I couldn’t respond. If I could have, he’d have died in a fountain of blood. I’d never wanted anything that much in my life, but I had no way to make it happen.
“You will serve us, Binder.” He gave the title a mocking inflection, probably because I was the one bound here. Then the Saremon spoke the words that nearly stopped my heart. “Just like your father.”
Death Match