And then came silence.
My mind went to a strange place—a dreamlike state that made no sense. Sounds came from somewhere, drums of some sort and running water. But the most persistent sound came from Theht. I heard her whispers in my head, though it wasn’t one voice, but many. With my magic already released, she had no power left to control me, so I focused on sending her presence back to the dark realms of my mind where she would be locked away. For now, at least. After that, I knew that I had to wake up.
Had Kull been hurt? Had Heidel and Maveryck escaped?
Light filtered through my eyelids.
Where am I?
I pried my eyes open, and a room came into view. A single torch burned in a sconce near me, making the rest of the room hard to see, but I was able to make out a domed ceiling soaring overhead. The same winged-skeleton motif we’d seen in the vaults had been carved on the beams and pillars supporting the walls, yet the room was smaller, and I knew I must have been inside the witch’s castle.
Something moved in the corner. As my eyes adjusted, I noticed several creatures slinking through the shadows, but I couldn’t make out their forms, other than that they looked fairly humanoid. The room had several doorways, and although the light was dim, my gaze snagged on the woman standing under an arched opening on the opposite side of the room.
“Silvestra,” I whispered, my throat dry.
The woman walked toward me, her heels clicking over the stone floor. She was a woman I had trouble describing. Her beauty was apparent in her flawless, pitch-colored skin, her dazzling white teeth, and her light, aquamarine eyes, but silver scales covered her arms and hands. They also covered her head, forming a dramatic widow’s peak. She clasped her hands together, and I noted that her fingers ended in claws with curved black nails. Silvestra had also discovered the magic word for beauty, a spell that made it impossible for me to find any physical flaws in her appearance.
I sat up, realizing that I lay not on a bed, but on a solid block of stone. My wrists and ankles were bound with manacles attached to chains, making it difficult for me to move.
As the witch moved closer, she pulled a knife from her robes. Blood was smeared and drying on the blade. My stomach twisted in knots as she stood over me, holding the knife for me to see.
“Fan’twar’s ward,” she said, “you dared to enter my chambers unbidden. Why?”
I tried to answer, but with my parched throat, I only managed a whisper. “The staff.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“The staff of Zaladin,” I clarified. “We needed it. Where are my companions?”
Her eyes darkened. “Two escaped from my castle with the staff. One did not.”
I swallowed my panic. “Kull?”
She nodded.
“Is he alive?”
She held the knife closer. “Yes. He is alive. But he took the sword that I had rightfully claimed. That is a misstep he should not have made, for now he is in my power.”
The tone of her voice sent a cold chill down my spine.
“He’s in your power?”
“Yes. He will become one of mine.”
The creatures lurking in the room’s shadows came into partial view. An intense fear washed over me, coupled with the need to run as soon as I saw them. They looked as if a person had taken a human, meshed it together with a crocodile, and made it into a zombie. Their bodies were deformed and hunched over, with a large spinal column protruding from their backs, a skeletal, humanoid face with crocodilian teeth, and humanlike arms and legs that ended in claws. Rotting flesh composed of scales and flaking skin covered their emaciated frames.
My stomach soured, giving me the immediate urge to vomit.
“What…” I gasped, “what are they?”
“They are called morrigun wraiths. My servants,” the queen answered. Leaning closer, she added, “They live an eternal life in this castle as my slaves. This is what becomes of those who break their bargains with me. This is what your friend will soon become.”
I clenched my clammy hands into tight fists. This was not happening. This was a bad dream. I must have hit my head in the dragon’s vault and was now hallucinating.
“No,” I managed. “Please, no.”
“Yes. This is the way it must be.”
“Why?”
“Because it is the only way I can deal with those who wish to bargain with me. Law must exist. And for law to exist, punishment must be exacted. This is the way of things.”
“Then take out your punishment on me,” I said. “Please. Don’t do this to him.”
“No,” she answered. “He is mine. That is something you cannot change.”
“Then why am I still alive now? Why didn’t you kill me along with the elves?”
“Surely you must know.”
She brushed a strand of hair away from my forehead, her scaled skin cold against mine.
“You are a unique person, Deathbringer. The one spoken of in prophecy. I will not be the one to destroy you. That task is meant for someone else.
“Your magic is a rare thing—both Earth and Faythander competing against one another. I could teach you to balance it.”
“No.”
“Think before you answer, child. I am offering you a great gift, one that could change prophecy if you accept my help.”
Change prophecy? She had to be lying. There wasn’t a way to change prophecy. But even if there were the smallest chance, shouldn’t I take it?
My mind wasn’t right. I couldn’t possibly be considering this. Her temptation wouldn’t sway me—right now, I couldn’t afford to be distracted. As long as she kept me alive, I would do everything in my power to save Kull. Nothing else mattered.
“No. I don’t want your help,” I said,
