Since the beginning of time, before life walked on this world, it had existed—and it had hungered. Elves, goblins, and humans were born and multiplied, built cities, forged civilizations. As they thrived, so had the Saghred. The stone grew in power and cunning, making itself known to those who desired its power for their own, tricking them into believing such a thing was possible, that mortals could truly possess and control it. The stone granted a select few the strength they desired, gave them the power they craved—in return for their offerings.
And the Saghred had fed and increased in power and influence and worshipers.
I’d never felt so small, so vulnerable, so completely and utterly insignificant.
I thought I could destroy it, to shatter what had existed before time was measured, and would be here long after the last of us were dust. I thought I could destroy that.
I came back to myself only to discover that not only was I on my knees before the Saghred’s pedestal, but my head was bowed, my forehead resting reverently against the cool crystal of its base—and standing beside the pedestal was a smiling Sarad Nukpana.
Oh. Hell. No.
With a snarl, I staggered to my feet. It took nearly everything I had, but I would not bow my head or bend my knee to either rock or goblin.
“Bravo, Raine,” Nukpana murmured. “You can see the festivities so much better if you’re standing.” He then turned and swept to the center of the dais.
Out of the shadows at the foot of the altar came a figure in white, flanked by a pair of Khrynsani black mages, and followed by temple guards.
Kesyn Badru grinned and gave me as much of a wave as he could with chained hands. One of the mages pushed him to the altar.
“You look like hell, girl.”
I drew a ragged breath. “Feel like hell, sir.”
The old mage saw my hand locked to the Saghred, and his eyes narrowed to black pinpoints of rage. “Death is too good for him.”
“Tell me about it.”
Kesyn looked from the Khrynsani mages to the altar and back again, gave a derisive bark of a laugh, and sat right down on the floor. “You want me on that butcher’s slab, do it yourself.” Kesyn’s words carried to the last goblin ears on the last row. Ever the showman, he leisurely crossed his legs and with a contented sigh, leaned back against the altar. “I hope you bust a gut.”
A couple of snorts and a few chuckles came up from the goblins assembled in the darkness. I smiled; I couldn’t help it. Kesyn saw and gave me a roguish wink. If I had to share what was happening to the souls trapped inside the Saghred, at least I could count on Kesyn’s spirit to be there with me to make jokes about it.
If you’re going to die, first make sure the man who’ll be wielding the knife looks ridiculous. Mirabai had class, but the old man had style.
Sarad Nukpana’s imperious gaze swept over both of us. He’d heard Kesyn and he was going to ignore him. But I had a feeling that while the old man might die from a single dagger to the heart, his corpse was going to be on the receiving end of multiple stab wounds.
And I’d feel every last one of them.
It took six Khrynsani, but they managed to heave Kesyn onto the altar and chain him to make sure he stayed there. Once they moved away, Kesyn started squirming, not like he was trying to escape, but like he was trying to work the lumps out of a really bad mattress.
“Sarad said he needs the first sacrifice to be a mage of power,” he told me. “I guess you don’t qualify right now. Sorry about that. Though I suppose I shouldn’t complain, at least I finally get to lie down.”
I wasn’t believing this. I thought I’d be the first one to lose my mind. “Old man, you’ve lost it.”
“Some have said so,” he mused thoughtfully. “But here, at this moment, I can assure you I am in full command of my faculties.”
That did it. He was nuts.
The temple guards who had brought Kesyn in had left the dais and returned with Deidre and Nath Nathrach, and Tam’s elderly butler, Barrett. Deidre and Barrett were the personification of elegance and poise. Nath looked like he’d had several accidents involving falling on half a dozen temple guards’ fists. Tam’s little brother had fought back. Hard. Good for him. The guards chained them to posts spaced at equal distances from the foot of the altar. Deidre gave me an encouraging nod.
Sarad Nukpana faced his new subjects. It was speech time or, in Nukpana’s case, gloat time. The lighting on the dais dimmed slightly, leaving Nukpana in a pool of light, while casting the rest of us into shadow, ensuring that all eyes would be on the new goblin king. I had a feeling this wasn’t going to be a short speech. Since none of his guests of honor had been captured yet, the goblin would want to stall for time. Either way, it’d give me a chance to catch my breath. In the next few minutes, I was going to need it.
There were now several Khrynsani black mages standing to the right of the altar who hadn’t been there before I’d been manacled to the rock. Judging from the ornateness of their robes, these must have been Sarad Nukpana’s heavy hitters. I caught a scent of spices and smoke. I took a big sniff. It was coming from the black mages. Imala was right; you
Carnades Silvanus was with them, standing less than ten feet away. I let out a little relieved burst of air. For the first and last time, I was actually glad to see him. Sarad Nukpana had promised him Mychael, but with Mychael still free, there’d been the possibility that Carnades wouldn’t be on the dais. I needed him to be here.
The elf mage was far enough from the altar that the goblins in the temple wouldn’t mistake him for a sacrifice, but close enough so that he’d be able to enjoy the killings. Mychael’s not having been captured had to be a big disappointment to him; he’d only get to watch, not participate.
Carnades went with a solemn expression, but considering how many goblins were in the audience, and especially the large number of old-blood aristocrats in the front rows, Carnades had to have been shaking in his borrowed Khrynsani robes. The elf mage never got into a fight unless he knew he could win either fairly or by cheating. I could tell he was having serious doubts now about what he’d gotten himself into. If there was anything old-blood goblins hated worse than an old-blood elf, it was an old-blood elf traitor.
No one was about to confuse Carnades with a Khrynsani, unless one had taken a dip recently in a vat of bleach. Wearing black robes and standing next to those goblin mages, Carnades virtually glowed with his white- blond hair and skin so pale he was damned near translucent. The only thing keeping one or more of those goblin nobles from plugging Carnades with a crossbow pistol was Sarad Nukpana’s protection.
Protection I was about to remove.
I caught his eye. Carnades’s facial expression didn’t change, but his pale eyes glittered in utter triumph. No doubt he’d heard me scream and seen me fall to my knees. It was all he could do not to come over to me and do some gloating of his own. I would like nothing more. He’d ask Sarad Nukpana for a few minutes with me before the sacrifices began. I knew he would, and Nukpana would grant it, if only to make me suffer more. Carnades couldn’t bear not being able to whisper sadistic nothings in my ear before Nukpana and the Saghred got hold of me.
My right hand was locked against the Saghred, but my left was still free, at least for now. I wasn’t as nimble with my left hand, but with literally everything at stake, I’d make do. Part of my concern had been being able to get close to the Saghred. I looked at the rock and blew out a shaky breath. Well, I couldn’t get any closer than I was right now.
Whether I died tonight, managed by some miracle to escape, or began a never-ending torture session, I’d at least go to my death or go insane secure in the knowledge that I’d done everything I could to prevent Carnades’s genocide of the elven people. If this worked, I might still die, but I’d take the Saghred with me. If it didn’t work, I’d get to feel Carnades die and hear his soul screaming from inside the Saghred. Though, while initially enjoyable, it could become tedious after a while. But if Carnades Silvanus’s soul was dragged through me tonight, I fully planned to laugh the entire time. It’d probably be crazy-lady maniacal laughter, but to end Carnades’s miserable life would make it all worthwhile.
Suddenly Sarad Nukpana paused in his speech, looked directly at Carnades, and graciously gestured toward me. I just stood there stupefied. I couldn’t believe this. Nukpana was giving Carnades his royal blessing and personal permission to come over to me to gloat right now—or he had something else up his embroidered sleeve.
Either way, Lady Luck had just tossed me a bone, and I wasn’t about to turn my nose up at it.
