Greydusk did not greet him, so I passed down the hall in silence. When we reached the imposing double doors, the demon paused. “Remember my warnings. Agree to nothing. You must bargain with her for sufficient freedom to investigate the city and find your friend or she will hold you as her benign hostage.”
“For how long?”
The Imaron replied gravely, “Until your will is no longer your own.”
That was an insidious thought. Sybella didn’t need to move against me. She could just keep me here, close to her, gradually becoming seduced by the constant exposure to heady demon magick. Eventually, my will would falter, and given my performance at the Chasm of Despair, I imagined it wouldn’t take long.
Our time’s limited. Good to know.
I puffed out a fortifying breath and gestured for the demon to show me in. Instead, Greydusk threw open the doors and boomed in an impressive voice, “To the assembled august personages of the Luren court, I present to you Her Highness, Corine Solomon, the Once and Future Queen, now and forever more, the Binder!”
What. The. Fuck.
With an introduction like that, I had no choice but to put some swagger in my step. I entered the room bareheaded, chin high, and I was thunderstruck to find myself surrounded by Luren. The aura was dizzying, so strong I almost blacked out from the collective sensual overload, but the charm bracelet Tia had given me pulsed on my arm. Pain lashed up to my elbow, but it also settled my head. Likely it wasn’t supposed to work that way, but magick never hit dead center where I was concerned. Things went wrong or backward; at the moment, I was grateful I could think.
This was Sybella’s version of an ambush, then. In confronting me with the assembled might of her court, she’d calculated that I would buckle and I’d be her slave—one way or another—by the time I left this room. And without Tia’s help, it might’ve gone down like that.
Beside me, Chance collapsed. My heart twisted with fear, but I couldn’t show too much concern or they would realize how much he meant to me.
Instead, I offered a wintry smile. “It is a pleasure.” Most of the Luren knew I meant I’d rather eat glass than make nice with them, but they did seem impressed by my fortitude. Who the hell knew how long it would last? I skimmed the room instead of approaching Sybella. “But do you truly mean to conduct our business amid such a multitude? How…egalitarian of you.”
By her sharp sound, she knew precisely what I meant. “Guards, clear the room, save for Gilder and Lash.”
In short order, the minions carried out her command. When the influence dulled, Chance stirred at my feet. Greydusk helped him up. I held myself stiff and still, conscious of Chance swaying at my shoulder. It had to be weird for him, hearing me described this way, even stranger that I’d stood against their charms. He’d found me clerking at a dry cleaners for fuck’s sake, but it was no less bizarre for me, remembering that Greydusk had called him a godling. And maybe that was why he’d felt that “click” he tried to explain; it had been our mutually odd heritages perking up.
Greydusk stepped up on my other side, so that I had an honor guard of my own. I felt pretty sure he wouldn’t let Sybella get within touching distance, and I wouldn’t look into her eyes.
Fixing my gaze over her left shoulder, I said softly, “You did something to my pet. Not one day, and you’ve already broken your promise.”
She hissed out a breath at the boldness of my sally. “You dare to call me oathbreaker, here in the heart of my strength?”
“Only because it’s true. You promised no harm would come to me in your house, and yet my dog won’t wake up. I love my dog. Therefore, I am upset. Worried. Hurt, even. And that is harm, by any definition.”
Greydusk made a soft sound. I heard approval in it. Strength surged through me, surety. I knew how to talk to demons. I knew how to push them and twist them, manipulate and force them to my desires. It wasn’t something I had ever learned, but I knew it, like the curve of my own cheek or how to breathe as I slept.
Shit. I really was the Binder. I had the old king’s magick, along with my mother’s. What that meant for the future, I couldn’t guess. I could only steer with one unshakable goal in mind.
Save Shannon.
Or die trying.
“You are owed recompense,” Sybella muttered. “You may ask one boon before our true negotiations begin.”
The knowledge came to me in a barely heard whisper, like there was someone else in my head. She wants your loyalty to the Luren, above all others, and your promise to raise them high when you break the castes wide open. Alarmed, I searched for the knowing presence, but it fell quiet, leaving me with a pervasive sense of dread. Well, creepy whispers aside, I understood what Sybella wanted. And she wasn’t getting it. I just had to buy some time.
“You will grant me one week’s grace, as the time runs in this realm, to see the sights in the city and take Xibalba’s measure. Greydusk will stand as my guard and guide. You will not interfere by means direct or indirect with him or me, which includes those under my protection.” With a gesture, I indicated Chance. “That also extends to my dog, of course, whose health and awareness you will restore at once.”
“Well said,” Greydusk whispered with approval.
By his tone, I gathered I had made the agreement sufficiently watertight. I didn’t need to keep her from scheming. I just needed this week before I made a true enemy of her. Right now, I thought she respected me. She’d expected a weaker opponent, more susceptible to her particular allure.
“It shall be done. Gilder and Lash stand witness.” Sybella whispered then in demontongue, a spell that made my skin try to crawl off my bones.
“What—”
But before I could complete the question, Greydusk reassured me in a low voice. “She’s removing the ensnarement spell on your mammal.”