She drifted close enough to Farideh to feel the protection’s crackling, close enough to see the young woman’s eyes twitch and shiver beneath her lids as the ghost’s presence drew nightmares up out of the well of her mind. How much had that divine source steered the tiefling as she grew? How much was it reining her in? She had been born-both of them had been, damn it all-to resurrect Bryseis Kakistos. Yet the ghost had watched as Farideh had nearly killed herself a dozen times over trying to right a wrong that was none of her doing and gained her little for the effort.
Such stupidity must fall along the sire’s line, she thought. But stupid or wise, there was no escaping the fact she needed to get past that protection in order to gather the rest of her soul.
And if she wanted to defeat Asmodeus, she needed a body.
There was time still. If Asmodeus could be patient, then so could Bryseis Kakistos.