The Trouble with Demons

“Gone,” Mychael confirmed. “A few hours ago, I received a report from the citadel saying that the containment spells around the Saghred have failed, as have the wards on the room. The timing coincided precisely with what you did. I’ve ordered my men to guard the door to the containment room; it’s no longer safe to be in the room itself.”



That explained why Sarad Nukpana was able to put in a guest appearance in my dream—and why I couldn’t get rid of him. No restraints on the Saghred meant no restraints on Nukpana. The Saghred was free and clear to do anything it could persuade, compel, or trick me into doing; and in a matter of days, hours, or even right now, it could do the same to Tam. What we’d done with each other and to each other was the Saghred testing the waters, seeing how much it could get away with. It was a test we’d both failed.



I took a shallow breath and pushed it out, trying to calm down. It didn’t work, so I tried another. Calm wasn’t happening. Screw calm. “None of that will happen,” I repeated it like that would help make the nightmare any less real. “The Saghred can’t be invincible; there has to be a way to destroy it.”



“Raine, our top mages and scholars couldn’t find a way,” Mychael said. “Neither could the Guardians. The best of our order couldn’t even scratch it.”



I let the silence sit for a moment. “When was the last time anyone tried?”



“When your father brought the Saghred back to Mid.”



“Anybody tried to whack the damned thing lately? All it’s eaten in nine hundred years is my father and Sarad Nukpana. It’s starving. And it’s latched on to me, so we know it’s desperate. That rock is vulnerable—and it knows it.”



“It just tore through the strongest containments spells possible,” Mychael reminded me. “That’s not vulnerable.”



“Sarad Nukpana told me before that the Saghred is conserving energy for important things, so apparently it doesn’t have much to spare. But if that rock manages to get itself a decent meal, then we’ll really be in trouble. Uncle Ryn’s still alive because he doesn’t wait around for his enemies to get stronger. He kills them right the first time.”



“Raine, it repelled that Reaper,” Tam said. “That was not the act of a weak enemy.”



Mychael went very still. “Reaper?”



I waved a dismissive hand. “Yeah, one tried to suck all the souls out of the rock through me. It didn’t succeed, and I’m hoping it won’t come back for seconds.” I pressed on before Mychael started asking questions, then making demands beginning with me going back to the citadel.



I ticked today’s events off on my fingers. “I squashed that yellow demon, vaporized three of the blue ones, and held off a Reaper—all with the Saghred’s help.” I grinned and felt it turn fierce. “The rock’s been working hard today.”



“The most vulnerable enemy can also be the deadliest,” Mychael noted coolly. “To survive, such an enemy will risk everything. The reward is great, but the consequences of failure are greater.”



“So you’re saying we shouldn’t try?”



“Not at all, but I don’t go into a battle without a strategy.



And make no mistake, this would be a battle, possibly one we would not survive.”



“So ‘walk in, smash rock’ isn’t a strategy.”



Mychael’s lips actually curled into a grin. “It’s not used very much.”



“Sometimes simple is best,” I countered. “The previous efforts to destroy the Saghred, they were all magical, right?”



“Mostly.”



“Whenever Phaelan wants something gone, he blows it up. The Saghred looks like a cannonball; I say we use it like one. Put a big enough powder charge behind it . . . And if it doesn’t work, some payback would feel good right about now. That rock has done enough to us; it has to stop.”



“Raine, I—”



“Tam’s not going to die, and you’re not killing him.” My words lashed out in anger and desperation. “The two of you talk about it like it’s some kind of twisted gentleman’s agreement. Tam’s just nobly going to stand there while you lop off his head—all because of that damned rock.”



“That is a worst-case scenario,” Mychael said firmly. “I don’t want to kill Tam.”



Tam smiled crookedly. “And I’m not keen on dying.”



I ran a hand over my face. “Then let’s stop talking about what you say won’t happen and find a way to make sure that it doesn’t.” I looked at Mychael. “Tam says an umi’atsu bond can’t be broken—safely.”



“It can’t. And even with the few reported successes, the process was extended over weeks. We don’t have weeks. The Saghred links the two of you, and now with it unbound, you may only have days, perhaps only hours. Tam, can you hear Raine’s thoughts?”



“No, only when she’s really scared.”



“I’m not scared; I’m pissed.”



“Tam and I got that impression loud and clear,” Mychael said, smiling faintly. “No mind reading necessary.”



“There are four stages to an umi’atsu bond,” Tam told me. “I believe we’re halfway between the first and second stage.”



I glowered. “What’s stage two?”



“I’d know exactly what you’re calling the two of us right now.”



“Before stage two,” Mychael said, his expression distant.



“That’s workable.”



“You have something in mind.” The tightness in Tam’s voice told me he already didn’t like it.



“I do. I can’t separate you from Raine, but I may be able to slow the bond’s progression.”



I resisted the urge to take a step back. “To buy us some time.”



“But first I need to see how far it has gone.”



“And you’re going to do that how?” My mouth asked the question; my feet thought it was a good time to run.



He saw it in my eyes. “Raine, I would never hurt you.”



“I know that.” And I did. But that didn’t mean I wanted the paladin of the Conclave Guardians carrying out a search warrant inside my head.



“What about the Saghred?” I asked. “I don’t think it’s going to like you trying to slow down its plans.”



“No, I don’t think it will.”



“Mychael, I don’t want to hurt you.”



“That is a risk I’m willing to take.”



“Because it’s your job.”



“It’s more than my job, and you know it.”



I did.



And so did Tam. The tension in the room went up a notch none of us needed.



I exhaled slowly. “I’m not willing to take that risk.” My chest and throat felt tight and the Saghred didn’t have a thing to do with it. “I don’t want to hurt anyone—especially you or Tam.”



Mychael’s calm blue eyes held mine. “Raine, it is you who will be hurt if this bond is allowed to continue unchecked. I promise you that I will do whatever I can to keep that from happening—and I swear on my honor that I will not hurt you.”



Unless it’s necessary, my inner pessimist said.



Mychael’s steadfast and reassuring gaze wasn’t helping things any.



“Please, let me help.” His voice was low and soft. It wasn’t his spellsinger’s voice. Mychael didn’t want to compel my cooperation; he wanted that decision to be mine. But I knew if I said no, his duty wouldn’t just let me walk out of here. One way or another, he was going to do whatever it was he felt he had to do.



I glanced at Tam. With our umi’atsu bond, Mychael going inside of my mind would essentially be him doing the same to Tam. This wasn’t just my decision.



Tam hesitated and then nodded.



“You’re just taking a look around, right?” I asked Mychael.



“Yes. For now.”



I took a deep breath. “Do it.”



He stepped forward, close enough to kiss me, and placed his thumbs against my temples, his strong hands wrapping around my head, his fingertips a warm pressure against the base of my skull. Mychael held my face gently cradled in his hands, those tropical sea blue eyes gazing into mine, then the intensity of the gaze increased, and he looked inside of me—and he saw what was coiled there in the dark, waiting and growing, malignant. It hissed in anger and in warning.



The hiss wasn’t only from the manifestation of the Saghred in my mind.



It was Tam.



I hadn’t heard him move, but I felt him, standing directly behind me and in my mind, with me and with Mychael. Tam stopped just short of touching me, but even though my eyes were locked in a soul embrace with Mychael, I felt the heat of Tam’s hands behind me, feverishly hot, eager to touch, his black magic desperate to take me away from Mychael. Beyond Tam was the Saghred. Neither one of them liked what Mychael was doing.



My breath suddenly came shallow and fast. Mychael in front of me, Tam behind me, both of them and the Saghred inside my mind. Our powers were brushing, touching, melding, flowing from me to them and back again in waves of ice and fire that left me gasping. My heart threatened to pound its way out of my chest. I couldn’t breathe. It was too much.



It was not nearly enough.



It was the Saghred speaking, and more. It was my darkest self, the self who had enjoyed what I’d done to the demons, reveled in it, who wanted to do it again.



I tried to pull away from Mychael, but his strong fingers held me immobile; and behind me, Tam’s hands went around my waist, tight and unyielding.



I heard Mychael’s voice as if from a great distance. “It’s moving too fast. I have to post a sentry.”



“What is—” The question passed from my mind to Mychael’s. My lips couldn’t form words.



Tam clutched me tightly against him, and I felt the growl vibrate low in the goblin’s chest. This wasn’t Tam; it was his black magic fighting for survival.