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Soldiers grabbed the argosy. “Stop, you!” one shouted.

Big hands reached in toward Aric, and he drew his sword with his right hand, holding the reins in his left. He sliced the goliath’s arm. The soldier yanked it away. “Sound the alarm!” he cried.

The back of the wagon banged open, spilling Sellis, Myrana, and Amoni onto the road. Neither had weapons in their hands, and after a moment, Aric saw why—those hands were engaged in the peculiar gesturing common to spellcasters. One of the soldiers was beginning to shout something, and his cry was cut off as if a hand had clamped over his mouth. The others went mute at the same time, arms pinned to their sides like they were wrapped in invisible rope.

“Go!” Amoni cried, jumping back into the argosy. “That’ll last a few minutes, but not long.”

Sellis and Myrana clambered aboard after her, shutting the door again, and Aric drove the wagon into the depths of the forbidden city.

Instantly, shadows enveloped them. The sunset was gone, lost in a gloom created by the thick foliage overhead and the gargantuan walls surrounding it all. Inside, the road became a vast plaza, multilayered, with benches and sections of garden and private nooks where one might go to meditate. It looked like it would be a pleasant place to spend time during the day, shaded and with the choice of being alone or visiting with others. It was empty now, though, whether because of the imminent fall of night or because everyone was gathered elsewhere, Aric knew not. All he knew was that they had not yet found the fires sending colored smoke into the sky … and that before them sat the strangest building he had ever seen.

“The palace,” Corlan said, his voice more a breath than a whisper.

Aric had only ever had a glimpse of Nibenay, since the sorcerer-king had stayed in the shadows the one time they met. But if the building across the plaza, still largely hidden by thick agafari trunks, was meant to resemble him, then it was as he had looked a long, long time ago, or else it was a work of great imagination.

The massive figure’s chin met the ground at plaza level. Its mouth gapped open, a door, Aric realized, with steps leading up to it. The teeth were even and straight. Above that flared the figure’s nose, then its inset eyes, and a smooth, tall brow. Then the hair, cascading back the brow and all down the sides each lock the figure of a woman. Thousands of them.

And why not? Nibenay had lived a thousand years or more, it was said. He had well more than a hundred wives now, perhaps as many as two hundred. They were human, and although their association with Nibenay might confer longer lives, they would still die at some point. Over those thousand years, he could easily have had several thousand wives, each immortalized in stone upon the walls of his palace.

The stone Nibenay appeared to be a passingly handsome man. The real Nibenay, Aric knew, was anything but.

As if sensing an end to the long journey, the mekillot picked up speed across the plaza. When it seemed as if they might go straight to the huge palace’s chin, directed there by the banks and levels of the plaza, a side route presented itself, leading around the palace. Aric steered the mekillot that way.

Toward the rear of the palace, shifting multicolored shadows offered evidence that they neared the fires. Night’s cold wasn’t far off, but within the warmth of those fires, Aric was convinced, the chill would be kept at bay.

And that’s where they would find Kadya, and Tallik, and an end to all this. He reined in the mekillot, who heaved to a stop with a grateful sigh.

“From here we go on foot,” Aric said. “The argosy is too large, and we’ll be trapped in it.”

“Trapped, or safe,” Mazzax said.

“You’re the one who wanted to kill the demon.”

“Kill the demon!” The dwarf’s single-minded fixation was, Aric knew, not uncommon among his kind.

He just hoped they could succeed at doing what Mazzax wanted.

3

Sounds of celebration, of hundreds of female voices, of song and laughter and the crackling of huge fires, met them before they turned the corner. Behind the castle was another broad plaza, this one with fewer plantings, just a handful of tall agafari trees scattered about. Eight huge bonfires burned, their heat bouncing off the palace walls and the exterior walls of the compound, warming the air to a comfortable level. Behind the palace, the wall was nothing but sculpted women shaped into flowing hair.

Templars filled the area between the fires, girls and women of every age from their teens onward. Most were naked, or nearly so. The mood was jubilant. Kadya sat on a dais at the near end of the space, accompanied by the consorts. They faced toward the crowd. A larger chair, almost a throne, stood beside Kadya in the center, Aric couldn’t see its occupant from here.

Getting to Kadya would not be difficult, but doing so unnoticed, when nearly every eye in the place was pointed their way, would be virtually impossible.

“Well?” he whispered.

“Kill her!” Mazzax said.

“No,” Sheridia said. “If killing Kadya would kill Tallik, perhaps it would be worth a try. But if we want the templars to know about the demon, it needs to be forced out of her.”

“The sculpture,” Aric said.

“Yes. But which one, I have no idea.”

“Let’s find out. Ruhm, give me a boost.”

Ruhm handed Sellis his war club and took Aric’s waist in his hands. His idea of a boost was to hurl Aric up onto the dais. Aric landed hard, his sword drawn, and a gasp of surprise silenced the plaza.

Aric held his sword’s tip at Kadya’s throat. He managed to keep his hand from shaking, though barely. His friends had stood by him, against all odds; he owed them his best effort, if it took his last breath.

“You,” Kadya said. “Everyone has been warned about you.”

“I’m no killer,” Aric said. He spoke loudly, so the crowd could hear.

“You’ve never killed?” another voice said. It came from the throne. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Siemhouk, Nibenay’s daughter, sitting there with a wry grin on her face.

“I didn’t say that. But whatever lies Kadya has told, that I’m a traitor or a member of the Veiled Alliance, they’re not true. I ran because I knew she meant to kill me, that’s all. Because of what I found out about her.”

“We brought the bodies of your fellow Nibenese back to the city with the expedition, Aric,” Kadya said. “Perhaps you’d like to see the evidence of your handiwork.”

“I didn’t kill them. You can’t prove I did.”

“At any rate,” Siemhouk said, “you’re interrupting our celebration. Have you a good reason, or should we strike you and your friends down where you stand?”

“A very good reason indeed. Kadya is possessed by a demon named Tallik—a demon with a long-standing hatred for the world. If he’s allowed to gain any power by being here, among all of you, then however many members of her own expedition Kadya killed will be as nothing compared to how many Tallik will kill.”

Kadya chuckled. “And you spoke of proof? What proof have you of that ridiculous charge?”

“I don’t know how to expose a demon,” Aric admitted. “But there’s a tale that says destroying the sculpture of a templar will reveal her secrets, so that might be a place to start.” He waved at the sculpted wall. “And if you’re hiding nothing, you’ve nothing to fear. Which one of those is you?”

“Utter nonsense,” Kadya said, pointing. “I’m that one—third from the left, seventh row from the top. Go ahead, destroy part of our husband’s palace. It’ll do you no good, but I’ll be curious to see how he decides to punish you.”

“Sheridia,” Aric said, anxiety tightening his voice. “Do you have a way to destroy that sculpture?”

“Wait,” Siemhouk said. “Kadya, why lie to them? You know yours is the eleventh from the left, nine rows from the bottom. It’s a better than passing resemblance, too, if you look closely.”