The Saghred sat still and dark on the altar. “What’s it doing?” he whispered.
I grimaced. “Digesting?”
“We’re leaving now, right?” Piaras sounded like he’d prefer to be already gone.
“Just as soon as we can get that”—I pointed to the Saghred—“back in there.” I indicated the box.
“Do we have to take it with us?” Piaras sounded as thrilled with the idea as I was.
“Afraid we have to.”
“And you can’t just pick it up?”
“I’m trying to avoid that.”
“Probably a good idea.”
“May I make a suggestion?” asked a cultured voice from behind us.
We both jumped. I’d forgotten about Primari Nuru.
“Please do,” I said.
“As primitive as it may sound, a stick or small branch may be the solution. Turn the casket on its side, then use the stick to push the stone inside.”
I blinked. “A stick?”
“The Saghred only responds to direct contact. You would not actually be touching the stone. You should not be harmed.”
“Should not?”
Her half smile made her look almost girlish. “So the legends say.”
“No disrespect intended, Primari, but if it’s a legend, it’s safe to assume those who wrote it are dead. Since I can’t be sure it was from old age, and since I have blood on my hand.” I paused, fighting off a case of the heebie-jeebies. “I’ve been in the Saghred once tonight. It spit me out that time, and I’m not about to try my luck again.”
The goblin paled, no mean trick with her skin tone. “You were inside?”
I nodded. “And it’s not a trip I want to repeat, especially now that Sarad Nukpana’s been added to the welcoming committee.”
Someone was coming toward us. Fast. And they had a lot of company close behind them. My first instinct was to run. But with the Saghred still on the altar, and not a stick in sight, running wasn’t a viable option. Against my better judgment, I stayed.
It was Mychael and Garadin. There wasn’t a mark on either one of them, which was probably more than could be said for the Khrynsani ordered to take them to the compound. Several Guardians were close behind. Vegard was one of them. He looked a little on the pale side, but he was upright. He looked around the clearing and grinned.
“Ma’am, you were supposed to leave something for us.”
“Sorry about that. They left early.” I nodded toward the Saghred. “I got the feeling they didn’t like the company.”
The big Guardian looked where I was looking. He went a shade pasty. “I can understand that.”
Mychael looked like he wanted to do something along the lines of a rib-crushing hug. I was experiencing a similar urge toward him. He knew it. I knew that he knew. With the Saghred on the altar and more Guardians arriving in the clearing, I decided that we could always indulge ourselves later. First, I had a soul-eating stone of power to poke with a stick.
Mychael had a bare blade in his hands. I couldn’t help but notice that it was Khrynsani. I’d imagine its previous owner no longer needed it. The Guardian looked around the clearing, not trusting what he didn’t see. “Where’s Nukpana?”
Using the smallest gesture possible, Piaras pointed at the Saghred.
Mychael raised an inquisitive brow.
“It wasn’t pretty,” I told him.
“No doubt.”
“I’ll fill you in on the details later.”
“I wish you would.” He locked eyes with me. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
His eyes reflected concern, relief, and rage all at the same time, and I knew in no uncertain terms that if the Saghred and I hadn’t taken out Sarad Nukpana, Mychael would have. I suddenly felt warmed to my toes.
“No, I’m good.” I looked at the Saghred. “I’d be better if that was back in its box. Though at least I think it’s finished what it’s doing now.”
“Where’s the beacon?” he asked.
“Nukpana had it in his hand.”
“It’s inside, then.”
I nodded.
“Then why’s it still sitting out in the open?” Garadin asked, moving closer to the Saghred than I thought safe.
“Do you want to touch it?”
Garadin stopped. “Not really.”
Mychael sheathed his sword. I didn’t think that was a good idea either.
“Have you considered using a stick?” the Guardian asked.
Apparently he and the primari had heard the same legend.
“It’s been suggested,” I said.
“Then let’s do it. We need to get out of here.”
Mychael went and knelt next to Chigaru and A’Zahra Nuru. He touched the prince’s temple and raised one of his eyelids to check the damage.
“He is not badly injured,” the primari told Mychael. “He only needs time.”
“Time’s in short supply just now, my lady.”
I’d really hate to survive this long only to have the Saghred slurp me up for dessert, but considering where we were—and who and what was out there—I had to agree with his suggestion to vacate the premises. But that didn’t mean I had to like what I had to do before we left.
“I’ll find a stick,” Piaras volunteered.
I sighed. “And I’ll poke the rock.”
He found one. Quicker than I wanted him to. Now it was my turn. Mychael offered to do it himself, but I couldn’t let him. This one was mine. I didn’t want it to be, but that wasn’t how things had turned out.
“There wouldn’t happen to be any elaborate containment spells or extra-strength incantations I could use, would there?” I asked anyone and everyone who might know.
Mychael answered. “There are, but none that have been particularly effective. Personal shields have been the most often used.” He turned to A’Zahra Nuru. “My lady, do you know of any?”
The primari was supporting a now half-conscious goblin prince. “I am sorry; I do not.”
Great. I wondered if the poor sots the Saghred had inhaled for breakfast, lunch, and dinner over the ages had used shields, or just thrown caution to the wind. I was willing to bet most had been cautious, like Sarad Nukpana—right before they had been consumed.
No spells. No incantations. Just me and mine, poking at a stone with cataclysmic power with a stick. If I was the Saghred, I would have been insulted. Hopefully it wouldn’t take any resentment out on me.
I turned the casket on its side; and wielding the long, forked stick like a rapier, made contact with the Saghred and pushed it neatly into the box. Point control was good for something. I closed the lid using the same maneuver. Power prickled up my arm, but other than that, the rock didn’t seem to mind the contact. I shuddered, blew out the air I’d been holding, and picked up the box. The beacon was in the Saghred with Sarad Nukpana. In theory since I no longer had the beacon, I should no longer feel a connection with the Saghred.
No such luck.
“I really hoped I’d be able to get rid of this.”
Mychael was looking at me funny. Not the good kind of funny. I looked down at myself. I wasn’t glowing or anything.
“What?” I asked.
“The bond is still there.”
He didn’t ask it as a question. I wish he had. He knew it as well as I did. Must have been kind of obvious somehow. The power the Saghred had offered me to destroy Sarad Nukpana was still there, inside me, waiting just below the surface. Waiting for what, I wasn’t really sure. Oh boy.
Mychael’s lips set in a grim line. “Is it trying to influence you?”
“No. At least not right now. It feels more like a big dog with very big teeth on a very short leash.” I grimaced. “A well-fed dog at the moment. Any idea how often it gets hungry?”
“Not a clue.”
“Not what I wanted to hear.”
His expression was unreadable. “We’ll be taking it back to Mid.”
That was good news, but I didn’t need the Saghred’s help to know his thoughts. That wasn’t all Mychael wanted to take back to Mid with him.
“I would like it very much if you would come with me,” he said.
I assumed since he asked nicely there wasn’t a trip over his shoulder in my immediate future. Good to know.