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At the command, Marak advanced decisively, sword up. When he looked at Kate, she saw the same distant expression he had worn when he cut her hands open. She didn’t think he knew her at all.

“Fight for us, Marak!” she begged. He raised the sword in his right hand and brought it slashing down, but at the same moment he shoved her as hard as he could with his left hand. Kate sprawled onto her back in a filthy puddle as the blade flashed past.

“Stop trying not to kill her!” the sorcerer screamed. “Kill her, and this time really do it!”

Kate tried to scramble away, but the goblin stepped on her arm, pinning her to the ground. His impassive gaze showed only the faintest flicker of unease, the faintest hint of puzzled recognition. He swung the sword up to chop off her head, and she couldn’t get away.

“Marak,” Kate whispered in goblin, “I’m going to have a baby.” Then she closed her eyes tightly as the sword came slashing down again. She felt a burning pain and reached up to touch her face. A shallow cut stretched across her cheekbone, but the weapon clattered to the ground.

“My wife and son!” Marak cried. “Kate, our baby! Do you mean it?” He looked around in surprise. “What are we doing here? Where are we?” And he reached down to help her up out of the puddle. The sorcerer glared at them both, beside himself with fear and horror. A dog started howling somewhere below them.

“The watchdogs!” the sorcerer spat at Kate. “This is all your fault. Sixty monster servants, and I have to kill you myself!” He snatched up the sword and raised it, but Marak wrapped his arms around the furious man. Kate stepped back from the struggling pair, unsure what to do. “Let me go!” howled the sorcerer, his eyes like red lamps. Marak was wreathed in flames now, his face twisted in agony, but he held the sorcerer in a tight grip. An unearthly keening came from below, joining the howling dog.

“The wizards! The wizards!” shouted the frenzied sorcerer. “Let me go!” As the stricken Kate watched, Marak glowed brightly all over like molten metal. He collapsed onto the floor, still glowing, and the sorcerer broke free, charging straight at Kate and swinging the sword wildly. One second she was staring at his livid face, mouth open, spit flying, weapon swung back to kill her. The next instant she was staring at the dim room beyond as the sword toppled onto the ground. She seized it and looked around frantically, but there was nothing to see. The room was completely empty.

Holding the sword, Kate moved to the center of the room, gazing around in bewilderment. She reached a hand up to her cut cheek and wiped away the blood, staring at the silent, dingy space and listening to the water drip from the rafters. She remembered the howling and the keening. Now there was no sound at all. A golden flash caught her dazed attention, and in another second Charm twined rapidly around her arm until its head reared up before her face. As she blinked at the snake, it bared fangs in an exultant grin.

“I have just bitten a man,” hissed Charm triumphantly.

Chapter 13

Kate picked her way carefully down the rotted wooden stairs underneath the warehouse building, still clutching the sword. She was beginning to regret having asked the golden snake to show her the sorcerer’s body.

“Charm, did you know all along that I was going to have a baby?” she asked.

“Yes, I knew, King’s Wife,” hissed the snake.

“And you let the baby and me leave the kingdom?” demanded Kate in amazement.

“The kingdom was not safe. The sorcerer could reach inside it to bring harm to you and the Heir. I needed to come to the sorcerer to protect my Wives.”

They reached the bottom of the stairwell. Two large gray wolves were chained there. One of them was long dead, rolled onto its back with its legs out stiff. The other one appeared to be sleeping. Its beautiful fur was matted with filth, and the gray coat wrapped a desperately thin body.

At the end of an unlit hallway, Kate came to a thick wooden door, splintered and twisted from its hinges. She stepped cautiously past it and caught her breath sharply. At her feet lay two hideously desiccated human corpses wrapped in dirty bands of cloth. Their dark brown skin was tough and leathery, stretched taut over the bones beneath. One was missing a hand, and the other had no lower jaw. The upper teeth stuck out into the air, yellow and uneven.

“When I was here before,” hissed Charm quietly, “these two were awake. I did not bite them because they did not try to stop me. I am only a magical charm, and they are here to combat the living.”

Kate stepped over the mummified forms as well as she could, keeping a worried eye on them. Then she looked up and stopped short.

Before her lay the sorcerer on a low stone table, his comfortable face calm and his body motionless. Kate gripped the curved sword tightly, reassured to be the one holding it now. She saw in horror that his red-lit eyes were fixed on her. They were the only thing about the body that could still move.

“I have just bitten a man,” hissed Charm with deep satisfaction. “There he lies, awaiting the King’s Judgment.”

Kate stared at the grotesque red lights in the pleasant face, remembering her husband’s glowing body lying on the ground. She didn’t even know if Marak had survived. She thought of the bloated Hulk, who lay here so far from home, and the little child’s hand still longing for its mother. A hard lump rose in her throat as she glared at those sickening eyes, and she lifted the sword and brought it down with all her strength. The sword rang hard against the stone table, sending a shock up her arms, and the sorcerer’s head bounded off his body and rolled into the corner. Kate stared, startled, at the rush of dark blood inundating the sword blade. Perhaps she hadn’t needed to use all her strength.

“There you are, Charm,” she said shakily, wiping the bloody blade. “I don’t think we need to bother the King about this one.” As Charm buzzed like a hive of angry bees, Kate looked around the room in disappointment. “Where are the goblins? Are they already freed?”

“No,” said the snake. “They are upstairs in jars. I found them in my journey looking for the body. I am sure the King would have planned an excellent revenge for it.”

“Then he should have gotten to it first,” replied Kate, stepping over the mummies again.

They went upstairs to the sorcerer’s workroom. Kate, used to Marak’s tidy ways, was disgusted at the mess. Scrolls, parchments, and open books littered the tables and the floor, and the room reeked from the many nasty mixtures that rode the sea of paper. Kate reflected that goblin magic and demon magic must be very different. Marak’s magic relied on herbs, minerals, and other inanimate objects, whereas the flies buzzing about the stinking remains in this room told a very different tale.

Standing along one wall were rows and rows of ordinary glass jars, each with some hieroglyphs painted on its lid. Kate picked one up carefully. It was very light, but she could see something inside that looked like colored water. “What should we do?” she asked. “Should we open the jars or take them back to the kingdom? Maybe if we break the seal, the goblin inside dies.”

“I do not know,” admitted the snake. “I interest myself in no magic but my own. Here are some that are not goblins,” it added, gliding over two old jars at the back. “Open them and see what happens.”

Kate carefully pried up the lid of the first one, breaking the wax seal. A cloud of orange smoke streamed out like steam from the spout of a teakettle. It flowed swiftly past her and was out of the room before she could blink. The other jar was filled with yellow smoke that sped after the first.

“Well,” she said doubtfully, “they certainly knew where they were going, but how do we know we did the right thing?” She went back to the other jars, looking for Marak. Charm found his jar, and Kate held it up to the light from her bracelet. It was only half full, she noticed with concern. The others were completely full.