The middle web, with all those thousands of beads of power, would provide tremendous resistance as her strength swept through it. The demon-dead, providing a shield and anchor for the living, would absorb some of her power as it flooded over them, but not all of those thousands of beads of power would be enough. That unleashed strength would continue on to the third web and...
The power would flow through that perfect symmetry, burn out the web, and shatter every Jewel chip as it came blasting back through the spiral. And once the last Jewel chip shattered, the only thing left to reabsorb the rest of the power would be...
"NO, witch-child," he shouted, turning round and round, searching for her. "No! A backlash like that will rip you apart! Jaenelle!"
He turned back to the webs. Maybe, if he could link himself to Witch's web somehow, draw every drop of reserve power out of his Birthright Red Jewels and his Black... Maybe he could shield her enough to keep her safe when the rest of that explosion of power came screaming back at her.
He took a step forward...
... and everything faded.
Saetan opened his eyes. Deep twilight. Almost night.
A dream? Just a dream? No. He had been a Black Widow too long not to know the difference between a dream and a vision. But it was fading. He couldn't quite remember, and there was something about that vision that was desperately important for him to remember.
That was when he noticed Daemon standing a few feet in front of him, watching him with frightening intensity.
Just remember that your mirror truly is your mirror. You only have to look to see the truth.
Andulvar's words. Andulvar's warning.
So, with eyes blinded by tears, he looked at his mirror, his namesake, his true heir. And saw.
Still watching him, Daemon reached into his jacket pocket. His hand came out as a loose fist. He opened his fingers, tipped his hand.
Little colored bangles, the kind women sewed on dresses to catch the light, spilled to the ground.
Saetan stared at them. They chilled him, but he couldn't say why.
And when he looked up again at Daemon ... He could almost hear the unspoken plea to think, to know, to remember. But his mind was still too full of the other vision that had turned elusive.
Daemon walked away.
Saetan closed his eyes. Bangles and webs. If he could find the connection, he would also find the answers.
Surreal swore silently as she stared at the perimeter stakes. There had to be a trick to getting past them. Hell's fire, Daemon had gotten them into the camp without anyone realizing it, but she'd still been too stunned by his shift into the Sadist to pay much attention. And he'd gotten Marian and Daemonar out without anyone realizing it.
Could it be as simple as jumping over them so the contact between the crystals wasn't broken? No, she would have remembered that.
"What are you doing out here?" a voice demanded.
Shit.
She turned to face the sentry who was moving toward her. She was too far away from the camp for anyone to believe she was just a broken witch wandering around. But she had to try to convince this bastard. Or kill him quietly. If she ended up in a fight and used her Gray Jewels, Daemon would know she'd run into trouble and alter the rest of his plans. And that would allow those bitches to realize they'd been tricked and really start the war.
"The hut's lost," she said, waving her hand in a vague gesture.
He came closer, his eyes full of suspicion and doubt. "Answer me, bitch. Why are you out here?"
"The hut's lost," she repeated, doing her best to imitate the way Tersa's mind tended to meander. She pointed. "It should be near that fuzzy post, but it wandered off."
The sentry looked in that direction. "That's a tree, you stupid bitch. Now—" He stopped, raked her body with his eyes, then smiled. Looking around to make sure no one else was nearby, he reached for her.
She took a step back, placed a protective hand over her abdomen, and shook her head. "Can't touch another male. He'll get mad at me if I touch another male."
The sentry gave her an evil grin. "Well, he's not going to know, is he?"
Surreal hesitated. That would certainly get her close enough to ram a knife between his ribs, but it would also take time she didn't have. The Gray Jewels then, and a fast kill—and may the Darkness help Sadi with whatever was going to happen in the camp afterward.
*Down, Surreal!*
She felt hind legs brush against her back as she dove.
A moment later, the sentry lay dead, his throat torn out.
A sight shield faded, revealing the blood-splashed wolf.
"Graysfang?" Surreal whispered. She touched the Jewel beneath her shirt. Gray's fang. The High Lord had been right.
Skirting the dead sentry, she reached for the wolf.
*Wait,* Graysfang said.
That's when she saw the small golden bump between his ears. The bump lifted, floated to the nearest perimeter stake, and uncurled its legs.
Surreal stared at the small gold spider as it busily spun a simple tangled web between two of the stakes. When it was done, it picked its way to the center of the web.
The sentry vanished. There was no trace of blood on the ground.
*They will not find him now,* Graysfang said. *They can only see what the web lets them see.* He gently closed his teeth around Surreal's arm and started tugging her.
"What about the spider?"
*She will stay to guard the web. Hurry, Surreal.*
She shook her arm free of his teeth. It would be easier to keep up with him if she wasn't hunched over. Switching to a communication thread, she asked, *What are you doing here? How did you get through the perimeter stakes?*
*Humans are foolish. The meat trail is unguarded. Too many legs moving on the trail. The humans got tired of baring their fangs when it was only meat.*
Meat trail? Oh, game trail. *How did you know about the trail? How did you find me?*
*The Weaver of Dreams told me to learn the two-legged cat's scent and follow his tracks. He is a good hunter,* Graysfang added with approval. *There is much feline in him. Kaelas says so.*
Sadi, with the predatory grace even the kindred recognized. Graysfang had followed Sadi. *Who's this Weaver?* She got a quick image of a large golden spider—and stumbled.
Damn fool of an idiot wolf. It was bad enough that he had gone to Arachna and brought a small spider back with him. But to deal with the Queen...
*She asked me, Surreal,* Graysfang said meekly when she snarled at him. *It's a bad thing to refuse the Weaver.*
Surreal gritted her teeth and picked up the pace. *We'll talk about it later.*
As soon as she saw the game trail, she recognized the place. This was where Daemon had brought them through the camp's perimeter. *I couldn't have found this place again by myself.*
*You have a small snout,* the wolf said kindly. *You cannot smell tracks.*
Surreal looked at Graysfang—at Gray's fang—and smiled.
"Let's go," she whispered. "Do you know the way to the shack?"
*I know.*
An hour later, she, Marian, Daemonar, and Graysfang were riding the Red Wind to the Keep.