Chapter Two
The knocking sounded forceful, urgent. Dorothea SaDiablo hid her shaking hands in the folds of her nightgown and positioned herself in the middle of her bedroom, her back to the single candle-light that dimly lit the room.
She had been searching for Daemon Sadi for seven months now. In the hard light of day, with her court all around her, she could almost convince herself that he wouldn't come to Hayll, that he would stay in whatever hole he'd found to hide in. But at night, she was certain she would open a door or turn a corner and find him waiting. He would spin out the pain beyond even her imagining, and then he would kill her. The insult underneath that violence was that he wouldn't destroy her for all the things she'd done to him, he would destroy her because of that child.
That damned child. Hekatah's obsession, the High Lord's reappearance, Greer's death, her son Kartane's mysterious illness, Daemon's fury, Lucivar's sudden hatred for his half brother—all of it came back to that girl.
The doorknob turned. The door opened an inch.
"Priestess?" a male voice called softly.
Giddy relief was swiftly replaced by anger. "Come in," she snapped.
Lord Valrik, Dorothea's Master of the Guard, entered the room and bowed. "Forgive the intrusion at this hour, Priestess, but I felt you should know about this immediately." He snapped his fingers, and two guards entered, holding a man roughly by the arms.
Dorothea stared at the young Hayllian Blood male cowering between the guards. Little more than a boy really. And pretty. Just the way she liked them. Too much the way she liked them.
She took a step toward the youth, pleased at the fear in his glazed eyes. "You don't serve in my court," she purred. "Why are you here?"
"I was sent, Priestess. I was t-told to please you."
Dorothea studied him. The words sounded flat, forced. Not his words at all. There were some kinds of compulsion spells that could force a person into performing a specific set of tasks, even against his will.
She took another step toward him. "Who sent you?"
"He didn't tell me his—"
Before he could finish, Dorothea called in a dagger and drove it into his chest. Her attack was so fast and so vicious, the guards were pulled down with the youth. Then she unleashed the strength of her Red Jewel against his pitifully inadequate inner barriers and burned out his mind, leaving no one, leaving nothing to come back and haunt her.
"Take that to the woodlands beyond the city for whatever wants the carrion," she said through clenched teeth.
The guards grabbed the body and hurried out, Valrik following them.
Dorothea paced, clenching and unclenching her hands. Damn, damn, damn! She should have probed the youth's mind before destroying him so completely, should have found out for certain who had sent him. But this had to be Sadi's work! That bastard was toying with her, trying to wear down her vigilance, trying to catch her off guard.
She hid her face in her shaking hands.
Sadi was out there. Somewhere. Until he was dead. . . . No! Not dead. There would be no hope of controlling him then, and once he was demon-dead, he would surely join forces with the High Lord. And she had never forgotten the threat Saetan had made, his voice rising out of a swirling nightmare: when Daemon Sadi died, Hayll would die.
Finally exhausted, Dorothea returned to her bed. She hesitated a moment, then extinguished the candle-light completely. There was more safety in full darkness—if there was any safety at all.
Dorothea threw back her cloak's hood and took a deep breath before entering the small sitting room in the old Sanctuary. Hekatah was already sitting before the unlit hearth, her hood pulled up to hide her face. An empty ravenglass goblet sat on the table in front of her.
Dorothea called in a silver flask and set it beside the goblet.
Hekatah let out an annoyed sniff at the size of the flask, but pointed one finger at it. The flask opened and lifted from the table. Its hot, red contents poured into the goblet, which then glided through the air to Hekatah's waiting hand. She drank deeply.
Dorothea clenched her hands and waited. Finally out of patience, she snapped, "Sadi is still on the loose."
"And each day will hone his temper a little more," Hekatah said in that girlish voice that always seemed at odds with her vicious nature.
"Exactly."
Hekatah sighed like a sated woman. "That's good."
"Good?" Dorothea exploded from the chair. "You don't know him!"
"But I do know his father."
Dorothea shuddered.
Hekatah set the empty goblet on the table. "Calm yourself, Sister. I'm weaving a delicious web for Daemon Sadi, a web he won't escape from because he won't want to escape."
Dorothea went back to her chair. "Then he can be Ringed again."
Hekatah laughed softly, maliciously. "Oh, no, he'd be useless to us Ringed. But don't worry. He'll be hunting bigger prey than you." She wagged a finger at Dorothea. "I've been very busy on your behalf."
Dorothea pressed her lips together, refusing to take the bait.
Hekatah waited a minute. "He'll be going after the High Lord."
Dorothea stared. "Why?"
"To avenge the girl."
"But Greer is the one who destroyed her!"
"Sadi doesn't know that," Hekatah said. "By the time I'm done telling him the sad tale of why this happened to the girl, the only thing he'll want to do is tear out Saetan's heart. Naturally the High Lord will protest such action."
Dorothea sat back. It had been months since she'd felt this good. "What do you need from me?"
"A troop of guards to help me spring a trap."
"Then I'd better choose males who are expendable."
"Don't concern yourself about the guards. Sadi won't be any threat to them." Hekatah stood up, an unspoken dismissal.
When they were outside, Hekatah said coolly, "You've said nothing about my gift, Sister."
"Your gift?"
"The boy. I'd thought to keep him for myself, but you were entitled to some compensation for losing Greer. He's a most attentive servant."
"You know what to do?" Hekatah said, handing two vials to Greer.
"Yes, Priestess. But are you sure he'll go there?"
Hekatah caressed Greer's cheek. "For whatever reason, Sadi has gone to every Dark Altar, working his way east. He'll go there. It's the only Gate left before the one located near the ruins of SaDiablo Hall." She tapped her fingers against her lips and frowned. "The old Priestess there may be a problem. However, her assistant is a practical girl—a trait one finds in abundance among the less-gifted Blood. You'll be able to deal with her."
"And the old Priestess?"
Hekatah shrugged delicately. "A meal shouldn't be wasted."
Greer smiled, bowed over the hand she held out to him, and left.
Humming, Hekatah performed the first movements of a court dance. For seven months Daemon Sadi had slipped through her traps, and his retaliation every time he was driven away from a Gate had made even her most loyal servants in the Dark Realm afraid to strike at him. For seven months she had failed. But so had he.
There were very few Priestesses left in Terreille who knew how to open the Gates. Those who hadn't gone into hiding after her first warning had been eliminated.
It had cost her some of her strongest demons, but she'd made sure Sadi never had time to figure out for himself how to light the black candles in the correct sequence to open a Gate. Of course, if he had gone straight to Ebon Askavi, his search would have ended months ago. But she had spent century upon century turning a natural awe of the place into a subtle terror—which wasn't difficult since the one time she had been inside the Keep the place had terrified her. Now, no one in Terreille would willingly go there to ask for help or sanctuary unless he was desperate enough to risk anything—and most of the time, not even then.