The Arcana: Shadow Wars, Codex I

XXVII

Trapped

In which Edana battles monstrous foes

Heart racing, Edana screamed again and again. She pressed herself against the column, trying to make herself as small a target as possible. Howling, bloodthirsty creatures circled her, coming closer and closer with each revolution.

The creatures were women, but not women. Oversized eyes glared out from wizened faces. Their nails—talons—dripped with blood, a match for their blood-soaked tunics. Each time the creatures snarled they revealed terrible fangs, fangs that otherwise gnashed at their own lips and chins. Gashes and seeping wounds on their arms suggested the creatures clawed at themselves, or perhaps each other.

There were three of this kind, and a fourth, their leader, a pale green woman drenched in dust. Her shredded chiton revealed her cadaverous figure, the largest part being her swollen knees. Sunken cheeks bore blood-crusted gouges, yet she bared her teeth in a rictus of a smile. She stood in the doorway where Honoria had been. But Edana didn’t have time to wonder why Honoria hadn’t remained to gloat.

The creatures reached out, their claws coming within inches of Edana each time, toying with her. The mist they brought with them became thicker, and Edana covered her nose, knowing it now for a deadly poison.

Edana’s thoughts raced.

You will get out of this room, she told herself.

Screaming gave way to hyperventilating as she considered the situation.

Move.

Move, or die.

Her shawl had pooled around her feet, a hindrance to her plans. Snatching it up, she bolted to her right. As she ran she wrapped the shawl thickly around her right forearm. Now to unfasten her sleeves, and unleash her firestone knives.

Shouting an Eitanite curse, Edana launched herself at the nearest creature. Swinging high, and low, she caught the creature’s hands, then her neck in the inner curve of the daggers.

The firestones flared, the glyphs etched into them blazing reflections against the walls of the room. The other creatures averted their eyes, but Edana’s chosen victim collapsed to the floor. Edana swooped up the fallen forearm and hurled it at the window, shattering it.

The poison mist did not abate, but she did not expect it to obey natural laws. Nor did it matter, not for her plans.

The she-monsters regrouped, and even the wounded one flipped herself upright, her head dangling grotesquely against her shoulder. The name of their species came to her then: keres. The heralds of violent death, unleashed from Erebossa.

Edana leapt to the couch below the window. Knife in hand, she used her shawl-armored right arm to smash the shards out of her path. Pausing only to sheathe the second knife, she hoisted herself out. Fresh air bathed her face as she frantically looked down for a safe landing place. Free!

No.

Sharp claws clamped firmly around her ankle. Edana screamed, for the she-monster was preternaturally strong, and squeezed her so tightly she feared her foot would snap off.

The ker pulled her back inside, and Edana offered no resistance. The moment the monster loosened her grip Edana swung her knife home. The ker withdrew, shrieking in pain. In the blink of an eye Edana unsheathed her second dagger.

The sisters pounced. Edana whirled on her good foot, holding out her arms to slice the she-monsters even as she spun away.

They shrank back. However, Edana learned fast: she pursued the weakest one, whose head was starting to right itself. Backed into a corner, the ker was helpless to stop Edana from catching her neck between her knives. The ker’s head went west and her body east, but Edana was not surprised when both evaporated into the greater poison mist engulfing the room.

Two more to go.

One met her at the window, batting wildly at her, but to no effect, having lost an eye to Edana’s knife. Her claws yielded to Edana’s knives, and soon after, so did her head. Like her sister, her body also dissolved into the mist it had come from.

The final ker rushed her from behind and Edana’s arm lashed out, catching the she-monster in her heart. Her blade stuck. The creature flailed, but Edana whirled beyond the reach of her claws.

A tremor shot through Edana’s hand, and it took everything she had to hold on to her remaining dagger. Pain hammered at her skull, and sweat burned against her forehead.

Escape. Escape this room now. Unfortunately, her legs felt as if she were immersed in a vat of honey, and she could only stagger, not run.

Which way to go? The window? Or the door? But the green woman was at the door—

No.

The green woman was moving. Every blink drew her closer and closer. Suddenly, a coolness seeped through Edana’s dress. What was—oh, she had backed herself against the stones of the far wall.

The green woman drew level with the final ker, and paused. She reached out and gripped the ivory handle of the moonbow blade and yanked. Blood sprayed everywhere as the ker screamed and collapsed, swirling into the mist before her body could hit the ground.

The green woman examined the dagger, her claws hovering over its curves, tracing its shape through the air as she eyed Edana through her lashes. Edana kept moving, shuffling against the wall.

The window was lost to her, she realized. It was ground she had ceded, and she could not take it back. The certainty of this fact forced her to keep moving, to her left, left, as she shambled against the wall.

Salty sweat stung her eyes but she ignored it, as she ignored the feverish heat of her own head. The green woman watched her curiously for a moment, before sashaying forward. Coming from her, the movement was freakish.

A taunt.

Sheer perseverance put Edana closer to the door, level with the column where she’d been bound. A little more, a little more—her legs trembled and her knees began to buckle.

The green woman leaned against the column and crossed her legs at the ankles.

Edana clenched her jaw and tried to gather her strength. The green woman raised the moonbow blade, pointing it at her.

Kill me with my own weapon? I do like her style.

If only she could use the green woman’s poison to kill her. Nevermind. Count.

One.

Two.

Three!

Edana launched herself off the wall. Momentum, and a lengthened stride, helped her reach the door in three steps. Gripping the knob with every ounce of strength she had left, Edana fell forward. As she hoped, her own weight forced the door shut.

She remembered just in time to click the lock home.

Gaius shrieked. Bringing to her remembrance that he existed.

Exhausted, she forced herself to turn her head towards the sound of chattering teeth. Ah, there he was. Cowering on the other side of the bed, in the serviceable bedchamber Honoria had begrudgingly given Gallo.

Wham!

The door rattled. Edana crawled away from it.

“What’s in there?” Gaius cried, scrambling over to her.

“A monster,” she said.

Laughter bubbled up inside her, along with memories of what legends said the green woman was capable of doing.

Oh, Amelu. Poor, sweet Amelu.

“Run,” she warned. “I may be a monster, too.”

Gaius gaped at her.

Wham!

The hinges loosened. One more blow, and the door would come flying off. To Edana’s amazement, Gaius gallantly scooped her up, then ran.

They managed to reach the exit door when the other one sailed clean across the room, splintering into pieces when it landed against the wall.

The snarling green woman bounded into the room and flung out her arm, sending the moonbow-steel dagger spinning across the room.

Where it landed in Gaius’s back.

Gaius sank to his knees, jarring Edana only a little. He stared at her, his eyes round with surprise. Weak, helpless, Edana shook her head in mild sympathy.

As his eyes rolled back his arms slackened, sending Edana rolling to the floor of the corridor.

She scrambled to her knees. Because Gaius had fallen head first, his back was exposed.

Just what she needed.

Almost. The tremors in her hands made it impossible to pull out the knife. Edana grit her teeth, exerting all of her willpower to rip the dagger from Gaius’s back. Recoil from the force of her action sent her slamming back into the wall.

From inside the room the green woman eyed her. Suddenly she leapt, and landed on Gaius so hard she flattened him. A sparkling sapphire swung and bounced between the wide valley of the creature’s breasts.

“Honoria?”

She could not hide her terror or astonishment. Honoria’s monstrous appearance suggested she was a shapeshifting arsh’atûm capable of taking on a human likeness.

Cackling, Honoria sank to her haunches, bringing her face within inches of Edana’s. Poisonous mist swirled about her, and in two heartbeats enveloped Edana.

Escape was no longer possible. Strike. Quickly, strike Honoria…but Edana struggled to raise her arm.

Honoria cocked her head, watching her struggles with interest. After a moment she pointed a long talon at Edana.

“When I am done,” she rasped, “not even your own mother would know you.”

Lethargy overtook her limbs, and Edana’s eyelashes fluttered.

Amelu.

The fate he’d spared her when he’d taken the blow in her place—would it be visited on her now?

Last chance.

Drawing her knees up took an eternity. For a moment Edana let her arms rest against her thighs. So fatigued was she that she didn’t even flinch when Honoria reached out with her talon and flicked Edana’s hair out of her face. A parody of maternal concern.

The monster smiled widely at her.

The whites of Honoria’s eyes were a strange, sickly yellow. Yet her irises were milky, as though sheathed in cataracts.

Continuing her mockery, Honoria cupped Edana’s cheek. Edana swallowed. Did Honoria mean to slash her face before killing her? But no, her talons slid down…to curve against Edana’s neck.

Now.

With her hands resting against her thighs, her long-knives did not have far to travel, meeting Honoria’s outstretched forearm with ease. Edana dipped her wrists between her knees, then clamped her knees shut, giving her the force she needed to trap Honoria’s arm between the blades.

Honoria’s screams echoed in the halls. Reflexively, the arsh’atûm jerked her hand back, flaying herself in the process. The glyphs on the moonbow knives flared white once again, confirming Edana’s suspicion that the daggers were proof against unholy creatures.

They didn’t flare like that for the giants, she remembered.

In her loud, shrieking agony, Honoria rolled away from her. Were it not for her own battle to move, Edana would have been amused.

Instead, her eyes grew dim.

Honoria’s screeching pounded at her ears and into her skull. Were she able to, Edana would have cried out in harmony.

If you would strike her, you must kill her.

The last thing she saw was Honoria’s teeth.

Coordinating everything took several hours. It was well after midnight when Ziri’s team brought them to Karnassus. The sickle moon had already set, which meant they would carry out their mission in complete darkness.

They were met with an escort of Star Dragons bearing gifts of battle gryphons. Bessa accepted one, her determination overriding her fear of the beasts.

Ziri initially insisted she stay behind. “If Honoria is of Erebossa, there is nothing you can do against her.”

“Neither can you; Honoria is Halie’s job,” she reminded him. “And I don’t care about Honoria, I’m going for Edana.”

She touched the stone beneath her dress. While traditionally people employed Sorcha’s Tear to find enemies, Bessa fervently hoped the stone would help her find Edana. However, Ziri was a scryer, so the stone wouldn’t serve in persuading him to include her. Thus, she didn’t mention it to him.

“Leave her in my care, for I have need of her,” Lady Nensela cut in, earning a long look from Ziri. But he said nothing, and their argument ended.

Before they left, Ziri distributed smaller versions of Sorcha’s Tears, which would help them find each other if separated. Bessa’s smile of triumph was fleeting, but profound.

Now they circled the skies over Honoria’s estate. Contrary to their expectations, no gryphons challenged them, nor any other flying sentries. Disquieting in itself.

Quiet, with no signs of life, Honoria’s estate was shrouded in darkness. According to the Karnassus Star Dragons, Honoria often held entertainments, but this night there was no sign of activity. If Gallo had fled to her, then the two of them were probably planning what they would do to Edana.

Or summoning Murena.

Sorcerers insisted the hour to summon a denizen of Erebossa was not a matter of chance or convenience. On this night, success was only guaranteed when the wandering star of Amyntas reached its zenith. Although … that was assuming Honoria must play by the same rules sorcerers did. Should she have a shadow gate, she would not be subjected to such mundane restrictions.

Otherwise, Ziri’s team had less than an hour.

“It’s too quiet,” Ziri observed.

“And too dark,” Leo added. He risked a small light wisp, easily mistaken for a firefly in the distance.

Up close, the light was sufficient for Ziri to divide the group into two teams. One to gather intelligence, one to find Edana. He placed himself in the latter group, with Halie.

The layout of the house presented two obvious options for where Edana might be kept: a tower, which bore an oraculum. Or an ergastalum, below ground. A thought flitted darkly through Bessa’s mind: no one would hear Edana scream at either point.

Ziri held out his fist and uncurled it to reveal an enameled tin of blue wax, taken from Edana’s desk in her office. Light flared from the tin, then flickered out. Long enough for Bessa to see Ziri’s brow furrow, before his face was shadowed again in the feeble wisplight.

“What is it?” she whispered. “What do you See?”

He was slow in answering. “Let’s hurry. Come this way.”

“This way” proved to be the tower, which loomed over them to the east. An open door in a side portico gained them entry into a room in the house. From the room they came to a great hall, where dim glowlights offered up light every twenty feet.

Once again, no sentry stopped them.

Uneasy, they crept down down the corridor. At the halfway point, they halted.

Clank thump, clank thump.

The eerie sound echoed in the empty hall.

Bessa froze. Was it a giant? The ceilings were tall enough…She swore under her breath. None of them had brought Salamandran acid; the Erebossi had taken all of their focus.

Ever calm, Lady Nensela readied an arrow; the men dropped into fighting stances.

In the distant gloom, a shape emerged. A woman. Haloed by one of the glowlights, she cupped a hand to her eyes and peered out at them. Her hair swayed and swirled, animated by an invisible wind.

“Come forward,” Ziri commanded.

His deep voice rang out in the halls, and Bessa winced.

The woman smiled uncertainly. “My mistress did not tell me of guests.” She started forward, toddling unsteadily on her legs, as if she had a limp. Likely a limp from a false leg, given the metallic thumps she made when she moved … but why would she have a false leg, when she could just go to a naiad spring and be whole again?

The hair stood up on Bessa’s neck. Something about the sound of the woman’s footsteps tugged at her memory. Memory of a story Uncle Min’da told her and Edana one rainy afternoon. The unruly hair, flame colored like Bessa’s…

“Shoot her!” Bessa cried.

Lady Nensela had already loosed an arrow, striking the woman right between the eyes.

The woman toppled over, making one final clang when she landed on the marble floor. Tendrils of smoke arose from her head. Her skirts bunched up around her, allowing Bessa confirmation of her fears.

“An empousa,” Ziri said.

Flesh-eater. Blood sucker. Two mismatched legs, one of a donkey’s foreleg, and the other a woman’s leg—albeit made of brass—was all the proof they needed. That, and the dying embers on her head, where her flames had been.

An arsh’atûm of Erebossa. Here, in the flesh.

Before the mission Halie had asked for a pound of sea salt. Once brought to her she blessed it, and commanded everyone to fill a pouch with it. Now Leo tossed a handful of the blessed salt onto the empousa’s body.

The body shriveled and dissolved as they passed it by.

Sixty feet onward, two more empousai greeted them. Lady Nensela loaded two arrows and fired. At the tower door they halted again: three empousai in front of them.

And three behind.

Lady Nensela and Ziri stepped past each other, with the seer taking the three in front, and the master arcanus allotting himself the three behind. Again Lady Nensela readied two arrows, as Ziri reached beneath his cloak and pulled out three throwing knives.

Bessa and the others chose either the right or the left walls to flatten themselves against. Lightning fast, Lady Nensela fired a third arrow even as the first two were still airborne. Unerringly, the arrows flew to her targets—

Each empousa caught an arrow as it came within an inch of her eye. Smiling, they raised the arrows over their heads with both hands. As one they balanced themselves on their brass legs while they raised their donkey knees and brought down the arrows, snapping them in half.

Bessa whirled, in time to witness Ziri’s trio catch his knives. Seemingly unfazed, Ziri stood with his fists on his hips and his head cocked. The thoughtful expression on his face held her fears at bay.

The empousai had caught the knives blade first.

Which proved to be their undoing.

They shrieked in obvious surprise, and snarled in rage or pain. The snarls changed to wails of horror as their punishment came due. First their hands blackened and withered, then their arms. Chunks of their flesh fell off, exposing their skeletons.

Yet still they could not let go, could not stop their wailing, not until the rot reached their throats.

Sparks and flashes of light drew Bessa’s attention back to the battle Leo and Halie waged against the three remaining empousai. A silvery shield bubble entrapped the bloodsuckers. A word from Halie, and the space inside the shield rapidly turned the deepest grey, as if a fog had developed solely inside the shield. Soon enough the empousai were swallowed up, with no trace of them, not even their screams.

Bessa eyed Lady Nensela’s quiver. If the stories of the Age of Heroes was true, one required special weapons to slay arsh’atûm. Usually blades of moonbow steel, or arrows tipped with them. But Lady Nensela did not use such just now. “Are your arrows tipped with something dangerous to the monsters of Erebossa?”

“The Gift of the Huntress, which you would do well to collect,” Lady Nensela replied. “Creatures of the underworld cannot abide that which comes from the heavens.”

“Ohh—star manna! So that’s the reason the Huntress has the manna rain down on the ash trees! Do the dryads mind if we take any? What do we offer them in return?” Bessa stepped aside to allow a Star Dragon to pick the lock on the door she had been leaning against.

However it was Halie who answered her. “Star manna is a gift. Be mindful to cut no tree with billhooks forged of iron. Bronze is fit for use, but touch not at all the trees wreathed in vines of fire and ice blossoms. These are not meant for you.” Her golden eyes flashed. “For your sake I urge you not to test this law, for the khrestai will enforce it.”

Vengeful khrestai? A shudder rippled through Bessa, but aloud she agreed she would not abuse the goodwill of the khrestai or the dryads.

The door swung open. Absolute darkness awaited them.

Ziri had sheathed all but one of his knives. When he noticed Bessa eying it, he flashed a roguish smile. “Family heirlooms,” he said by way of explanation.

Leo snapped his fingers, and a wisp of light appeared. Unlike a candlelight, it did not flicker or gutter as it floated in front of his face. Waving his hand, he shooed it on ahead. An attack on the light would serve as an early warning system.

Swiftly, quietly, they ascended the stairs. Halfway up they reached a landing, marking off a door in the wall. Halie blocked them from going forward.

“Attend these,” she said, indicating the lintels and posts. Glyphs were burned into the wood, barely visible in the wisplight.

“What does this mean?” Ziri whispered.

“Erebossa has power here. These symbols say so. Beyond this door is an antechamber, where an abyssal spirit may be contained when it is summoned.”

“Beware of sorcerers who have such rooms,” Leo added.

The priests nodded their agreement.

“Can we be trapped here?” Bessa asked.

“Definitely,” Leo answered. “An unscrupulous sorcerer might cover the symbols with decoration. Trust me, if you visit a sorcerer, never enter any rooms where the posts or lintel aren’t completely visible. Curtains are a telltale sign; don’t disregard them.”

Now Ziri took command. Though he faced Lady Nensela, his gaze flickered to Bessa. “Whatever you mean to do, Lady Nensela, this is where we must part for now.”

To Bessa’s surprise, he handed her his throwing knife. “If anything comes out of this door, and it’s not us, kill it.”

“Unless it’s Honoria,” Halie reminded them.

Bessa mentally reviewed the description the Karnassus Star Dragons had given them of Honoria Vartanian. “I remember,” Bessa assured her, accepting the knife. She glanced at Lady Nensela, who demurred when Ziri offered her his last throwing knife. Then she looked to Halie and asked, “Can you neutralize the spells, Your Grace?”

As one, Leo and the two priests violently shook their heads.

“The spells are to trap the abyssal inside,” Leo pointed out. “Breaking that ward is the last thing you want to do.”

“Yet Honoria somehow passes through these doors,” Bessa pointed out.

“Yes indeed,” Halie agreed. “As worded, the spell binds only an unfettered abyssal spirit, not an eidolon. Ironic, for a body otherwise shackles the power the eidolon can wield. But becoming an eidolon also frees an abyssal spirit from certain other bindings that a body is not subject to.”

A frightening loophole. Bessa considered the Oathtaker pins the sorcerers wore, and for the first time it dawned on her that taking the Oath against meddling with Erebossa may have doubled as protection for sorcerers. Particularly inexperienced sorcerers, who might rely on rules they didn’t completely understand and wound up unwittingly ensaring themselves.

“Ready?” Ziri asked. His hand was already on the knob.

Lady Nensela and Bessa stepped back.

The door opened. The priests entered first, followed by Halie. Ziri brought up the rear. With one final, meaningful look at Lady Nensela, he shut the door firmly behind himself.

Bessa turned to the prophet. “What is your plan?”

“The skein is tangled,” Lady Nensela replied, solemn. “One single strand leads to the outcome we need. Give me your word, Bessa, that you will trust me. Not lightly, not without deliberation, did I choose Ziri. It is to him, and to Halie that we will entrust with Edana’s care. You and I have a different task, and we must see to it now.”

Bessa’s heart pounded. A pit yawned open in her stomach, where dread took residence. Until now, she felt no fear.

She met Nensela’s eyes.

“I swear.”

Something cold and hard was biting into Edana’s wrists. Her left arm ached, and her face was numb. More, she couldn’t feel her legs. A mixture of musk and damp mustiness assaulted her nose. Those were the sum total of her perceptions.

No matter what, she could see nothing. Only darkness. Her eyes never adjusted to it, never showed her even the outline of shapes. After a while Edana had to fight to keep from panicking.

Was she blind?

Or—blindfolded?

Reluctant to move, or give any sign of consciousness, she remained still. Whatever Honoria planned for her could wait until Edana understood her surroundings enough to improvise her own plan.

Not that her previous attempt at improvisation had worked out for her.

Still, silent, Edana strained to hear anything other than her own breathing. Gradually, she became aware of the cool air that washed over her. Only then did she realize she was no longer wearing her chiton. A shriek died in her throat, unvoiced.

The sensation of the breeze on her flesh was strange. Unpleasantly strange.

Roar!

A lion! The scream came readily from Edana’s lungs now.

The lion sounded disturbingly close.

Oh, so she was to be executed? Edana gave up any pretense of being unconscious. Frantic, she pressed her face into her upper right arm, and began rubbing. The chains she hung from clinked in rhythm. Something cold and slick slithered against her arms, in tandem with her movements. She gasped. What touched her?

Thank the Speaker, she was blindfolded. Pinpricks of light came to her as a band of cloth fell to her neck.

Confirmation she still possessed her sight calmed her. Slightly. Light spilled down from an unknown source. The shadows of that source showed her she was in a pit covered with a metal grate.

Darkness concealed the dimensions of the pit. What else resided here with her? Why hadn’t the lion charged at her?

Grrrr.

Not a lion roar. A bear?

Edana clenched her jaw. Great. And somehow, disappointing. Would a sleepless enemy really do something as mundane as feed her to lions and bears?

A shadow fell over her. Honoria. Grinning down at her. Back to her human guise, Edana noted. However, the bandage wrapped prominently around her forearm betrayed her as the monster Edana had fought.

“Awake now?” Gloating saturated her voice.

Edana didn’t answer. Above the pit, Honoria was not important. Inside the pit, the wild animals mattered. Yet no matter how she squinted or where she turned, she never saw the lion’s eyes. Surely a lion’s eyes glowed in the darkness, like the sleek little watch-cats that guarded Lady Nensela’s granary?

“You can get out of this pit, you know,” Honoria said sweetly. “But you won’t want to. Your life as you knew it is over. Over. From now on, you will call Murena ‘master’. Get used to the idea, because when you hear the bell of my water clock, he will be here.”

Uh-huh. Let the eidolon dream as she would, Edana needed to focus. Just where were the beasts?

“Edana? Don’t you want to know why your life is over?”

Something in Honoria’s voice made Edana look up. However, Honoria had disappeared. A loud swoosh, and light bloomed in the pit. Temporarily blinded, Edana shut her eyes.

When her sight returned, Honoria was once again grinning down at her.

“Look down,” she said.

Blood slowed in her veins. Look down? Did she want to do that?

Steeling herself, she looked.

Down.

And further down.

A scream bubbled inside her. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her heart stopped entirely, and time stood still.

From the torso up, she was naked.

And human.

Ringing her torso, where her waist had been, were the tiny heads of lions, bears, wolves, boars, and eagles. Below the heads came glittering dragon scales. Scales. Scales that tapered into snake tails where her feet should be. Something was wrapped around the scales. A bigger tail. Which terminated in a scorpion stinger.

Edana’s head lolled. Her face turned to the light, but she didn’t see it.

She fainted.

Cold water ended her blessed oblivion. Honoria stood in front of her, holding an empty bucket.

“Still not time,” Honoria said. “Any moment now. Time to make a choice, Edana. No wait,” she said, tapping her chin. “You can’t be ‘Edana’ anymore. Edana was a person. Human. You are what I made you: an arsh’atûm. Monster. An abomination. Ohh, how it must sting for you! Do monsters have ‘people’ names?”

Hatred warmed Edana’s belly.

Honoria smiled. “Naturally, I have a name. Properly enough, since I appear human. Everyone will know just looking at you that you’re not. Let’s come back to that later. For now, let’s discuss your master, Murena. And how you will behave when he gets here.”

Powered by rage, Edana violently twisted. Her scorpion tail unfurled and arced around, striking Honoria squarely in her stomach.

Knocked off her feet, Honoria fell to her hands and knees. For several satisfying minutes she writhed in pain. But all too soon, she rose up.

“Fool,” she said, clutching her stomach. “Stupid girl, you need me. I’m the only one—besides Murena—who can change you back. I don’t want to. Or need to. But you need me to. So you’ll do exactly as I tell you to do. If you want to be ‘Edana’ again.”

“Fool,” Edana shot back. “Your choice is to kill me before I kill you. I will serve no fellshade.”

“Do you seek death? Well of course, in your state. Simply wait for your friends to arrive; they’ll kill you on sight. The question is whether or not they themselves will die shortly after. Do you understand you are bait? Certainly your people will come to rescue you. And if you consider a mercy killing a rescue, then they’ll succeed. Of course I knew you wouldn’t serve me for your own sake. But what about theirs?”

Another roar deafened Edana’s ears, but this came not from a beast but from her own blood rushing through her, heating her from the inside out. Vengeance. Let Honoria make one mistake, just one, and Edana would have her blood.

Edana’s bitter laughter echoed against the walls. “Truly, fellshade, did you come into this world last night? Does your plan depend on me believing that turning me into this abomination is on your menu, but also that you’re too honorable to serve me a cup of lies?”

“Huh. Good point,” she agreed, and surprised Edana by bowing in respect. “Very well, I admit I expected you to be too desperate to regain your beauty to think of that. Think on this: you brought this on yourself. Did you think yourself clever, eliminating Duke Gagnon? Well I salute you, because you were clever!” Another mocking bow, this time accompanied with a salute. “Unfortunately for you, his death means our plans must change. Did I not say you will serve our plans now? And oh, how you will serve! Murena is coming. He is your new master now. How that works out for you and your friends is entirely up to you.”

At last the point penetrated through Edana’s fury: Honoria needed her. All the same, despair threatened to overtake her. So Honoria needed her alive. And? What need did Honoria have to undo the hideous metamorphosis she had wrought? None.

None at all.

To trust Honoria would be to deliver herself into a trap, and Edana had been too well-schooled to fall for it. Schooled in the Sayings, which readily came to mind, particularly the verses promising due punishment against the wicked. Fast and fierce, the words poured forth from Edana’s lips.

Honoria recoiled, and stumbled backwards before abruptly vanishing in a puff of smoke. When she reappeared, she stood over the grating once again.

“I warned you,” she snapped. “I told you. Don’t blame me for what happens next. This is your own fault.”

She stalked off, but Edana took no notice.

A hard lump formed in her chest. Grief poured over her.

For the first time in her life, she understood why someone might welcome death. Not struggle to avoid it. But embrace it, like a long lost friend.

So, this.

This, these eighteen years.

This was all the time she would have to live her life.

Time she may not have used well.

The first twelve years of her life held no regrets. Crossing the isthmus, however…

True, the choice was not hers. Not the journey, no. Being obstinate in refusing to empathize with her father for wanting to return to Eitan, even as she openly longed to return to Silura? That was her choice, one she regretted. How hard had she made the last six months of her parents’ lives?

If only her father had consulted a seer before uprooting their lives. But such was not his nature, and over the years she made peace with that fact. Besides, what seer could undo his desire to reunite with his family? Thanks to Captain Asher, she finally understood his parting from them had not been voluntary. Not the way her mother had willingly parted from—or fled—her own family.

So they had to leave Silura. That part of their fate Edana made herself accept. If only the rest of it had gone differently.

If, if, if.

How those words plagued her life! If her father had not wanted to leave, if they had opted to go at a different time, if they had traveled a different route, if they had stayed together when the bandits routed them…

Beyond that, if she had not lived as a lone wolf, as Bessa once chided her. By her own will Edana ruthlessly avoided entanglements. After all, she was striving to return to Silura, so why form new connections it would hurt her to sever?

Only one indulgence she permitted herself: daring to try and fit in with the Eitanim of Kyanopolis. Curiosity about them had overwhelmed her, but her Siluran accent and Yriellan ancestry made them wary of her. More, some went so far as to criticize her father, and she feared her ignorance of certain customs would bring shame on him and her mother both.

Courage. In the end she lacked the courage to take the next step of forming friendships. Nor to bring herself to risk finding her father’s family, to redeem the cost her parents paid for their endeavor.

Consumed by her regrets about the past, she cut herself off from future possibilities. Including the glorious future the dream spinner showed her in Lady Nensela’s library … was it only yesterday? By the Speaker!

Tears blinded her. Unable to wipe them away, Edana closed her eyes. Still the tears flowed, and she let herself cry. Who would see?

From a distance Honoria’s voice floated down to her. Chanting. A summoning spell?

Jolted, Edana’s thoughts raced. If her friends were coming, as Honoria claimed, then she must find a way to send Honoria back to Erebossa. And keep Murena from coming. Afterwards … afterwards Edana must find a way to die before her friends discovered her.

“Please, Great Sower, give me—courage—to do what needs doing,” she prayed. Movement from the corner of her eye startled her: snakes crawled where her hair should have been.

Tears glistened on her cheeks. Crying solved nothing; Mama always said as much. Cry later. For now, look down. Look. The scorpion tail coiled around her…scales…had knocked Honoria off her feet. What else might the cursed thing do for her? As it turned out, the thing acted like a limb, and was strong enough to break her shackles. She collapsed to the floor, but managed to catch herself. A waft of air caught her attention and she looked to her right. Wings! They, too, draped over the ground. Could she fly?

First things first. After careful experimentation, Edana finally managed to stand on the snake tails. What method of locomotion was she supposed to use? Should she slither? Could she slither?

The wings would serve her to cover her breasts, though she recoiled from their leathery texture. As much as she loathed the batlike appendages, she could not bring herself to abandon that last shred of her humanity. Her sense of modesty was all the dignity she had left.

Except … she needed to fly.

She crossed her arms over her bosom, doing her best to maneuver her hands to cover herself as much as possible. Now to unfurl her wings. Abruptly, she was airborne, before she fell again. It took her several attempts to master the wings, but once she did she used them to probe the dimensions of the pit. Thus, she found a door. A quick glance up told her Honoria was occupied elsewhere. That, and her incessant chanting.

Still airborne, Edana used her tail to push the door open. Her heart sank. Beyond the door lay a tunnel, but one too narrow for her to fly through. Either she figure out how to walk, and quickly on the viper feet, or learn how to slither on the dragon scales. Or, simply drag herself along, using her hands.

She swallowed.

The floor was grimy, which was the first thing she noticed when she lowered herself to it. After a moment’s hesitation she uncrossed her arms and began undulating across the floor of the pit, and into the tunnel, dragging what had once been her legs behind her.

With every inch she gained, Edana prayed. Endless lifetimes seemed to pass as she made her way through the tunnel. Eventually, she came to another door. This one swung open easily, onto another pit. However, no grating barred this one. Above, a feeble glowlight offered a little light, and the breeze washing over her dried the salt on her cheeks. Breeze? Perhaps there was a way out? She flew up, and looked around.

The nondescript room was just large enough for her to maneuver. Manacles hung at intervals along the walls, and on the two slabs bolted to the floor. She wrinkled her nose. Apparently, she had a heightened sense of smell.

People were killed in this room.

A shock went through her, and Edana looked sharply to her left.

What was that?

She heard it again.

A scream. Not one of terror.

Of fury.