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She failed.

Friar dragged her across the threshold. Just as her skin tingled from the magic of the wards she heard the raucous boom of a shotgun.

Friar slammed the door shut.

FORTY-THREE

LILY’S side hurt. Her cheek throbbed. Her hip burned from being dragged across concrete. But Friar had let go for the moment. Cautiously she sat up.

“We need to leave,” Friar said. “Now.”

“But my people—” Benessarai waved at the door. Someone screamed.

“Are you going out there to rescue them? No? Then we must depart.” When Benessarai stood staring at the closed door, Friar snapped, “It saw you. Saw all of us. It looks like a tiger, but I don’t know what it is. It wasn’t fooled by your illusions. How long will your wards keep it out?”

Benessarai drew himself up, offended. “The wards are strong.”

“Good. That means you have time to— No, you don’t.”

Lily had quietly scooted away and started to gather her feet under her. Friar grabbed her arm again and pulled her up. It hurt. He shook her. “What do you know about that tiger?”

“Do you think,” Benessarai said nervously, “that those lupi are behind this?”

There was another scream outside. It ended abruptly.

It was silent inside, too. Lily’s heart was hammering, but she took advantage of the quiet to look around.

From the outside, the warehouse hadn’t looked very large. Inside it seemed oddly bigger, maybe because of the way the lights were hung on the rafters, pointing down. That left the high ceiling in shadows, making it seem even more distant. Lily gave those shadowy heights one quick glance. A misty white cloud hung motionless up there.

She couldn’t see very far into the warehouse because of the way the shipping crates were stacked; the nearest row blocked her view. The immediate area was set up like an office, with short partitions on two sides. There was a counter flanking the door, an ancient vinyl sofa, some filing cabinets, a water cooler, and two desks.

There were also two bodies.

Alycithin and Dinalaran had been laid on the floor in the open space before the rows of crates started. A large, perfect circle glowed around them…glowed from the floor up, as if the cement had decided to luminesce. Their dead hands had been folded around the two knives that rested on their chests. Mage lights hovered at the head and foot of each corpse.

No sign of Adam King. If he was here, he wasn’t making any sound.

Friar broke the silence. “I believe,” he said, “you forgot this.” He held out the bowling-ball bag. Lily had forgotten all about it. Friar had remembered even while being charged by a Siberian tiger. The prototype must be in there.

Benessarai accepted it and replied with icy precision. “I appreciate your care for my property.”

Friar let his shoulders droop. “I”—he ran a hand over his hair—“I’m sorry for how I spoke to you. I was…the beast shook me badly. I admit it.”

Benessarai thawed, but only slightly. “Courtesy means little if you possess it only when all is well.”

“You are right,” Friar sighed, a man who saw his limitations all too clearly. He knew how to play the elf, even if he’d forgotten in the stress of the moment.

The thaw continued. “I suppose we must go. That beast shattered my concentration. Its presence will draw attention here.”

“Will you grant me a small boon? My man is either dead or otherwise unavailable. Would you ask one of yours to guard my prize while I retrieve my things?”

“Oh, very well.” The fabulous master of mind-magic sounded like a petulant child. “You can fetch my hostage while you’re back there. Use the charm so he doesn’t give you any trouble.”

“Of course.” Friar even gave him a little bow.

Benessarai spoke briefly to the two remaining elves—the ones who’d brought the bodies in. One of them—Lily thought this one was female, though it was hard to be sure with those long, loose shirts—headed their way. Her face was as impassive as ever, though she did dart one quick glance at the door when the tiger roared again.

Friar bent close and whispered in Lily’s ear, “You have a short reprieve. Behave, and perhaps I won’t make you pay too badly for the delay.” He shoved her to the floor.

She fell hard. Again. Her ribs ached where he’d kicked her. The side of her face throbbed. When had Friar gotten so bloody damn strong?

When she was busy remaking him, of course. When he hung suspended in what had been a gate until Rethna tampered with it. His goddess had given him his patterning Gift. She must have decided to make a few more alterations while she was at it.

While Friar vanished amid the packing crates, Benessarai had moved to the large circle that held the two people he’d killed. He began rolling up his sleeves, paused, frowned, and said something in his language.

Lily’s new guard repeated it, or something very like it, and seized Lily by her restraints the way Alycithin had. And pushed. Apparently she was supposed to move forward. She did, but as slowly as possible.

Hurry, she thought. It wasn’t mindspeech. She still couldn’t nudge that dial. But she thought it anyway.

She didn’t feel any tingle of magic when the elf steered her across the circle, which meant the circle wasn’t activated. “So how are we leaving?” she asked. “Not via a gate. There’s no node.”

“A gate?” He smiled at her pleasantly. She’d accidentally stroked his ego, though, hadn’t she? Implying he could actually open a gate all by himself. “Not that, but something quite clever. Robert taught it to me, but he can only execute it on himself. I, of course, am able to do much more. I shall send all of us out of phase, and then we may walk out unimpeded.”

Out of phase…invisible and untouchable, in other words. Like demons could do when they weren’t in their home realm. “Friar taught you a demon trick?”

“Don’t be absurd. Demons don’t exist.”

“Could have fooled me. The ones in Dis sure looked real. The dragons thought they were, and I tend to trust dragons on that sort of thing.”

He frowned. “You refer to the soulless.”

“You could call them that, I guess. We call them demons.”

“And you claim to have been to Dis and to converse with dragons.” He shook his head. “It is most annoying that I cannot simply cast a truth spell on you. Clearly you are not telling the truth, and yet—but this is not the time for discussion. Sit down out of my way. There,” he said, pointing next to Alycithin’s body.

The elf made sure Lily sat exactly where Benessarai wanted her and seated herself on the concrete floor, too. Lily found herself looking at the woman who’d captured her and brought her here and used the last split-second of her life saving Lily’s.

Exit wounds are always worse than entry wounds, and Dinalaran had shot her in the back. He must have been using hollow points. He’d fired twice, and it looked like they’d both hit her about heart high and blown out a good chunk of her chest on their way out. One breast was gone. The other was pretty torn up.

It made Lily sick and sad. Alycithin hadn’t been a good guy by human standards, but by those of her people she’d been deeply honorable. And so alive, so vital and curious. And now she was meat. Lily took a slow breath and turned herself enough that her back was to the corpse. Her elf guard didn’t object.

The other elf had knelt near but not at the edge of the circle. Eyes closed, he chanted softly. Rethna’s flunkies had done this, too—either adding their power to his or performing an active part of the spell, she wasn’t sure which. Benessarai was moving around the circle in a slow, deliberate way. He didn’t chant. The circle kept glowing faintly. No magic prickled over Lily’s skin. But the look of intense concentration on his face said he was doing something, even if she had no idea what.