“Please get to the point.”
The knobby end of Maaqua’s staff came round again and hit Hweilan’s cheek with enough force to make lights flash in her vision. Through the pain in her face, Hweilan felt a warm trickle of blood coursing down her cheek.
“There you go with more stupid willfulness,” said Maaqua. “Just hold your tongue and listen. That big one with the black sword? Rhan? He is the champion of the Razor Heart. Among the warriors, he is second only to the warchief-though his pride is far pricklier. You did a most unwise thing kicking him down that hole. He has demanded the Blood Slake of you for the insult.”
Blood Slake. Guush ukh in the Goblin tongue. It was not a concept Gleed had taught her. “What is that?”
“The right to restore his honor. Put simply, you shamed him. A little girl like you kicking him arse over ears into a hole. He has made the demand of the warchief, me, the whole damned War Council. We cannot refuse him. So we’re obligated to heal you so that you’ll be at your full strength to fight him before all the Razor Heart. To the death.”
“And what do you say to this?”
Maaqua shrugged. “I have no desire to see you dead. Contrary to what you seem to think, I could handle your master. It is simply a complication I do not need, considering all the other problems we face right now. But neither do I wish to lose my champion.”
“Then command him,” said Hweilan. “You’re the queen.”
Both Maaqua and Kaad chuckled. The queen said, “Things are not that simple with our kind, girl. I could command him, and he might obey. But Rhan is a proud one. If he defied me … well, then I’d be forced to deal with him myself. That would win me no friends among the clan. And if he obeyed me, his shame would remain. I can’t have that, either.”
“So?”
“So that’s why you’re here,” said Kaad. The healer wrung out the cloth on the floor, dipped it back in the basin, and resumed scrubbing the muck and blood from her arm.
“I have an idea,” Maaqua said. “One that satisfies everyone.”
“I’m listening.”
“You escape. Once I leave, Kaad will fray the ropes under your legs. I’ll have a guard bring you food later. I’ll tell him to untie your arms so that you may eat. I’m sure you can take care of the rest.”
“And the Damarans?”
“Why do you care?” said Maaqua.
Now that it came to it, she did care. Getting involved with them had been foolish and had landed her in this predicament. But Darric had risked everything to help her, and Valsun and Mandan’s devotion to him were admirable.
At the same time, Hweilan knew what Jagun Ghen would do. Kesh Naan had showed her. She had seen through the eyes of her ancestors the suffering he would bring to thousands if she did not stop him. Were four men really worth that? No. As much as it pained Hweilan, she had to admit that nothing could justify saving four lives while putting thousands at risk. Everything she had been brought up to believe by her parents, her grandfather, her Uncle Soran, and everything she had learned from Gleed, Kesh Naan, Ashiin, and even the Master himself … no. She would desecrate all of that if she let Jagun Ghen win in order to save these four men.
And so in her mind, she let them go. She had no doubt the guilt would nag her till the end of her days. But if she didn’t deal with the real enemy, the end of all their days would come too soon.
Kaad’s scrubbing stopped again. “That is interesting,” he muttered.
“Eh? What?” said Maaqua, then in Goblin-“What is interesting? Speak!”
Hweilan looked down at her arm and immediately saw what he meant. Below her shoulder she had a large patch of brand new skin, completely smooth and hairless, and pale as goose down. The dark inks of the tattoos on her arm ended at the healed wound, but the pattern continued across the new skin, not in black but in a deep red. Like blood.
“These were not made with normal inks, were they?” said Kaad, touching them cautiously with one finger.
“No,” said Hweilan. She remembered all too clearly the searing pain as Gleed carved them into her flesh with the glowing metal rod.
Kaad looked at her and raised his brows questioningly.
Hweilan raised hers in mockery.
Maaqua didn’t seem impressed. “The girl is marked. You know what she is.”
Kaad shrugged, then stood and returned the water cauldron to its place, tossing the sodden goatskin onto the floor.
Hweilan returned her attention to Maaqua. “You’ll let me go? Just like that? What do you want in return?”
Maaqua sat back and put the staff back in her lap. But by the tightness of her jaw and narrowed eyes, Hweilan knew the queen was holding on to her anger very carefully. “These … things coming out of Highwatch. They have become a problem. Rhan killed one, but only after it killed several of our warriors.”
“I told you already,” said Hweilan, “Rhan did not kill it. He may have destroyed the flesh it wore, but the spirit inside survived and went to find a new host.”
“I believe you,” said Maaqua, and Hweilan could sense no deceit in her tone. “I’m older and wiser than you are, girl. I have not sat idle while these vermin infested my homeland. I have learned a thing or two. But …”
“But you still don’t know how to kill them,” said Hweilan.
Maaqua smiled. “And you do.”
“So now we come to it.”
“I’ve changed my mind. You teach me how to kill these things, and I’ll let you go. You’ll keep your life. You don’t teach me … and I’ll make your pretty Damaran boy watch while I flay you alive.”
Hweilan held Maaqua’s gaze for a long time. Hweilan was no fool. Once Maaqua got what she wanted, she had no reason to let Hweilan live. What the queen was asking, however … Hweilan couldn’t have given it even if she wanted to. But as soon as the queen believed that, she would have no reason to let Hweilan go, much less keep her alive. Menduarthis taken by Jagun Ghen. The Damarans captured. Uncle gone. Hweilan’s only hope was the full moon, still days away. Her one strategy-keep Maaqua hungry. A trick every hunter knew: no matter how smart your prey was, get it hungry enough, and it will eventually snatch the bait.
So Hweilan let it out. It wasn’t hard. Perhaps it was the gunhin still coursing through her system. Or the desperation of her situation. After all she’d gone through, to meet her end at the hands of a viper like Maaqua … it was funny in a way. Hweilan threw her head back against the ironwood and laughed until tears streamed down her cheeks.
Maaqua pushed herself to her feet and raised her staff.
“My queen, please!” said Kaad.
But the queen ignored him. She struck Hweilan across the face with her staff, then again on the crown of her head with the backstroke.
Kaad stepped forward and tried to grab the staff, but Maaqua turned it on him. One sharp crack across his temple, and the scrawny healer collapsed. The hobgoblin queen stared down at Hweilan, her eyes narrowed to angry slits, her upper lip curled over her yellow teeth.
Hweilan laughed harder.
That only stoked Maaqua’s fury. She took a step back, raised the staff, and spoke the beginning of an incantation. Purple light sparked around her staff, each syllable she spoke bringing another, each stronger than the last.
“Stop!” said Hweilan, trying to stifle her laughter. “No need for that. You want to know how to deal with the baazuled? I’ll tell you that for nothing.”
Maaqua blinked. The arcane light gathering around her staff fizzled out. “Eh? What’s that? You’ll what?”
“You want to know how to kill them?”
“Yes!” said Maaqua, a manic light in her eye.
“First, you have to taste the venom of a thousand spiders, until their poison so fills your brain that only the mercy of the spiders’ god keeps you alive, filling you with visions. You’ll live a thousand lives. Die a thousand deaths. Joys, sorrows, triumphs, losses … you will know them all. And then spend your days being beaten senseless by the Fox, until you learn to fight back. Until the Fox becomes your sister. And then you’ll watch her die and drink the blood of her killer. I have done all that and more, you greedy, flea-bitten rat. So if you think your petty threats frighten me in the least, then go ahead. Kill me. On the next full moon, I’ll meet you in the Hells and teach you different.”