CHAPTER 25
Follow not the sway of hips and hollow music of the stars. Fear them as you fear oblivion.
—Attributed to Megast-el Zea, Djinn historian and High Magus
Jaquith seized my arm, but a million berserkers couldn’t have held me back. I twisted free, flew to the keyhole doorway—and came to a dead stop on its threshold.
Just ahead of me, in a candlelit bedchamber, Chase lay naked on a thin mattress. He was on his back, his head lolled to one side. His unfocused eyes stared out from a mass of swollen bruises. His arms hung limp. Blood and dirt splattered every inch of him. His pants, scimitar, and knives lay in a pile on the floor between where I stood and the mattress, mingled with Lotli’s robe and tunic.
She knelt beside him, nude except for her tiny talisman bag. Her deep-golden skin glistened, pristine and perfect. She pressed her fingertips just below his sternum, pushing upward toward his rib cage. “Relax. Give in to it. Let go,” she chanted.
Paralyzed, I could only stare, one hand gripping the doorframe, my heartbeat thrashing in my ears. I knew what I was seeing, but my mind reeled, desperate to block it out.
She slipped up onto him, straddling his abdomen, sliding slowly backward, fingertips pressing even harder. Chase still didn’t move, though one part of his body clearly wasn’t immune to the wriggle of her hips.
“Chase!” Jaquith barked, drill sergeant tough.
Chase’s head and shoulders lifted from the mattress. Lotli drove him back down with her fingertips. She swiveled our way and smiled sweetly at Jaquith. “Give us a moment. We are almost ready to come.”
Deep, cold hatred sank into my core. I stepped stiffly toward the mattress, every muscle taut. My fingers tightened around the handle of my dagger. Somewhere behind me, Jaquith shouted for me to stop. But his voice was distant and surreal, an unimportant whisper in a nightmare where I could see nothing except for Lotli.
She smirked at me. “Nice outfit,” she said. Then she sliced a glance toward the floor, where her flute lay atop the discarded clothes in a none-too-subtle threat of what she’d do if I tried anything.
Heat raged through me, melting the heavy cold.
“Fuck you!” I screamed, diving for the flute.
But she was faster. Before I could reach it, she was off Chase and on her feet, facing me with the flute in her hands. She ground her fingernails into the threads of hair and corded yarn.
Spasms seized my guts, the lightning strikes of pain knifing every part of my body. My knees buckled. Unable to stand against the pain, I crumpled to the floor, hunching and groaning as I rode the waves of agony.
Lotli brought the flute to her lips and began to play a shrieking melody. She sashayed past me and straight at Jaquith. He clamped his hands over his ears and stumbled backward through the keyhole doorway and into the other room. She prowled after him, hips swaying, each step punctuated by a piping screech.
“Stop it. Stop,” Jaquith wailed, sinking to his knees.
A fresh wave of anger surged into my blood. I clenched my teeth against the spasms of pain, sprung to my feet, and charged through the doorway after her. I slammed into her back like an enraged bull. The force sent her flying away from Jaquith and into the table. It toppled, and the bowl and jug thumped to the dirt floor. She went down hard on top of them, the flute soaring from her hands.
I hurtled past Jaquith, snatched the flute, and retreated to the keyhole doorway. Jaquith was shaking his head, no doubt trying to regain his wits. A yard away from him, Lotli was crawling back onto her feet, eyes on me, dark and deadly.
I glanced over my shoulder at Chase. He hadn’t moved. He just lay there as if every ounce of life had been drained out of him.
Drained? I did a double take. Despite the dirt and blood, I could make out six dime-size black marks right below Chase’s sternum—right where Lotli had pressed her fingertips.
In an instant, I remembered. I’d seen marks like that before. The one time I’d met Zea. I’d thought they were shrunken tattoos.
I gasped. Not just six dots. They formed the shape of an irregular hexagon. The constellation Ophiuchus!
Lotli grabbed the stoneware jug by its handle and staggered toward me, her dark eyes glistening. “You should not have done that.”
I clutched her flute against my chest and stood my ground in the doorway. “What the hell are you?” I demanded.
“Hexad! She’s a hexad,” Jaquith shouted, struggling to his feet.
“A what?” I said to him, totally confused.
Before he could answer, Lotli slammed the jug full force into his face. With a loud crack, the jug splintered into pieces. Jaquith’s hands went to his face, blood weeping through his fingers as he dropped to the ground, groaning in anguish.
Now empty-handed, Lotli slunk toward me. “We have business to finish with the warrior. And you promised not to interfere.”
My mind spun, struggling to put everything together. The egg pendant she’d given me was designed to collect and store energy. The truth was, I’d felt physically better after I’d smashed it. Maybe I’d watched too many science fiction movies, but all I could think of was an energy vampire—or an outer-space succubus of some kind. Jeffrey White hosted a show on history and ancient aliens. Was that why he’d had Newt and Myles kidnap her? Had he suspected something about her origin that we’d missed? My mind sifted through the ancient alien TV shows I’d seen. Stars. Symbols. Interconnections across the globe. Pyramids . . . Oh my God. The Aztec calendar stone in Moonhill’s secret tunnel. Now I knew why the face at its center had drawn my attention. The cheekbones. The nose. They resembled Lotli’s.
She held her hand out. “Give us our flute.”
I stepped back, out from under the doorway and into the bedchamber. My free hand fumbled for my dagger while my other held tight to the flute. “Take one more step and I’ll smash it. Seriously, I’ll do it.”
Rolling her shoulders, she inched closer. “You are too late. He is already ours. Now give us the flute.”
“I don’t believe you.” I pulled the dagger’s blade along the flute’s length, peeling off a long wedge of waxy yarn and hair, praying it might break her spell, praying it wouldn’t do something horrible to me or Chase.
“That will do you no good.” Her voice remained steady, her face calm.
Droplets of sweat slid down my rib cage. I peeled off another section and another, slivers of wax sprinkling the silk of my sarong and veils.
Her expression didn’t change. But she craned her neck, making a show of looking past me toward Chase. She licked her lips and stroked her talisman bag.
The bag. I’d never had a chance to study it up close and if she hadn’t inadvertently drawn my eye to it, I might not have looked at it then. But I had and what I saw made me swallow a gasp. It was decorated with a hexagram.
I stole another look to make sure I’d seen right.
Lotli launched herself at me, snatching the flute. Using it like a bat, she wacked the dagger from my other hand. I whirled on her, grabbed the talisman bag, and yanked, breaking the thong it hung from. She smacked my wrist with the flute. Pain flashed up my arm and the bag went flying.
“I won’t let you have Chase,” I growled.
She sneered. “He is not yours to save.”
Panting, I backed to the center of the bedchamber. Through the doorway I could see Jaquith. His face was smeared with blood. But he was on his hands and knees, and gripping a jagged pottery shard. I had to buy him time to get to his feet. He was stronger. He knew how to fight.
I took another slow step back, toward the mattress and Chase. My soul, my heart, everything screamed for me to jump at her and strangle her with my bare hands. But we needed her to open the veil; without her, none of us would be able to get back up the stairwell and escape this place.
Lotli raised her flute to her lips, a soft whistle sounding as she sidestepped me and headed for Chase.
I had to focus. There had to be a way to turn this from a battle of magic to something I was a master at. Bluffing. Dickering. Dealing. Those were the things I knew the best—
And I did have something to offer her.
As if I were manning a booth at an upper-end antique show, I took a deep breath and straightened my spine. This wouldn’t be an easy sell.
“Wait a minute,” I said, facing her squarely.
She turned to me. “We have nothing else to say to you.”
“What if I could give you a more powerful genie?”
She glanced at where Jaquith was crawling toward the doorway and snorted. “We do not think so. He is not even fully male.”
“I’m talking about a different son of Malphic. A full-blooded genie. A true prince. Powerful. Handsome—and fully endowed.” I took the poison ring out from my bra. Looking at her steadily, I slid the man-size ring over my middle finger, slipping it back and forth suggestively, while I gave my lips an erotic lick. “He’s prepackaged and ready to go.”
Her eyes widened. Her lips parted. I had her attention now. Yeah, come and get him. His name is Culus. He’s Malphic’s loser son, but you have no way to know that.
Lotli’s head swiveled toward Chase, a lingering gaze. He shifted upright, half-sitting. A feral growl emanated from deep within his chest. His eyes were no longer unfocused, now they looked more fierce and wolfish. Oh God. Was she right? Had I already lost him to her—or the change?
Steadying my voice, I sweetened my tone even more. “Do you really want a berserker when you could have a full-blooded ifrit, as powerful and sane as Malphic? If you want, I’ll let you touch the ring. Feel its power before you decide. Once we get back to Moonhill, he’s all yours—if you forsake Chase now.”
Spittle glittered at the corner of her mouth. She plucked her robe up off the floor and flung it on. One slow step at a time—like an egret stalking its prey—she moved toward me.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Jaquith using the doorframe to pull himself up.
I extended my hand to Lotli, fingers fisted to keep the ring secure.
She slipped up closer than necessary, way too close. I could see the sheen of sweat on her forehead and the pulse of the blue veins beneath her skin. I could even smell the scent of Chase on her. But I stood still as she touched the ring with her fingertip. Her breathing quickened. She tucked her flute under her arm and then curled both her hands around my fingers. Her eyelids closed, lashes fluttering as if in ecstasy.
“Forsake Chase and he is yours,” I whispered. “All yours, once we return to Moonhill. I promise.”
“This one, he is delicious. Powerful.” She moaned. “Yes, I forsake the others. Oh, yes.”
Her fingers tightened around mine, a firm handshake to seal the deal. Relief swept through me, so strong it left me light-headed. We could get out of here now. Find Dad and Mother.
“Did you hear that?” Jaquith said.
I glanced to where he stood in the doorway, the pottery shard held at his side. At first I heard nothing. Then my ear caught the sound of distant shouts coming from beyond the cell’s carpet-doorway, getting louder by the second.
“Guards. Malphic.” I gasped. The room tilted as my lightheadedness increased, darkness and stars whirling around me. I felt sick to my stomach, on the verge of passing out. I could barely stand. I felt . . . Holy crap! Drained.
Lotli released my limp hands. She yanked the poison ring off my finger and slid it onto hers. Instantly the wooziness began to subside. But it was too late. She had the flute between her lips. High whistles and shrieks reverberating as she swept toward Jaquith. He dropped to his knees and clamped his hands over his ears, agony written on his face. She skated past him and into the other room. She was leaving. But she couldn’t!
I stumbled across the room and past Jaquith. “You vowed to Zea. You swore a blood oath to me,” I shouted at Lotli.
She slanted a triumphant look my way, took the flute away from her lips, and smirked. “I have never and will never vow to anyone.” She laughed, high and haughty. “Humans are such ridiculous creatures, easily misled with their peculiar devotion to honor and curious moralities.” She jutted her chin toward the bedchamber and Chase. “Try to save the boy if you can—and keep the other as well. I have no use for either.”
She raised the flute once more, screeching louder than ever as she disappeared through the carpet, crackles of electricity following in her wake.
“Get her!” the men’s shouts now echoed right outside the carpet.
Flute music screamed.
“Bitch,” a man bellowed.
“That way!” another one yelled, his voice and footfalls dissipating into the distance.
I rushed to Jaquith, taking his arm to help him stand. “Are you all right?”
Two dark figures rushed in through the carpet. I snagged the pottery shard off the floor and flung myself between them and Jaquith, attack ready.
My pulse froze.
Not guards. Not Malphic. It was a brown-robed eunuch and a concubine.
“Annie, it’s us,” Dad said.
My mind staggered, searching for a place to begin explaining. “Lotli. She—Chase . . .”
“Not now.” Dad glanced at Jaquith. “You said the cells have exits that lead into the desert?”
He nodded. “In the bedchamber there’s a carpet.”
“Let’s go,” I said, turning toward the other room.
Chase was gone.