A small silver amulet wasn’t a weapon—but I knew a way to turn it into one.
The goblin rested one hand lightly on the Saghred, and gestured me to him with the other, still bloody one.
“Release her,” he told my guards.
“Sir, are you—?”
“I said release her.”
“Your will, my primaru.”
He gestured me to him again. “If you and the beacon would join me.”
From what Mychael had told me, I should be close enough to the Saghred to remove the beacon without my usual brush with death. I pulled the diamond chain with the beacon over my head. I could still breathe and stand at the same time. Good. Mychael had been right.
I hoped my father was right, too.
Power makes you blind to your own greed—and its consequences. I didn’t know if it would work. I didn’t know if the backlash from Sarad Nukpana’s shields would kill me. But with the goblin’s breath close enough to fog the Saghred’s surface, and Piaras about to be murdered for the sake of a sick experiment, it didn’t matter.
I tossed the beacon to the goblin. “Catch.”
The beacon passed through Sarad Nukpana’s shields and into his waiting and bloody hand—shields that ceased to exist when he reached out to grab the beacon. The goblin’s obsidian eyes widened in realization at what he had just done.
The Saghred, Sarad Nukpana, and blood to bind them—and no shields between them.
I didn’t know if any of the blood on his hand was his, or if it was all from the dead fire pixie. The Saghred didn’t care. A sacrifice was a sacrifice. And it was hungry.
A little sacrificial blood and a broken magical circle. The simplest magic was the best kind.
And greed will make you stupid. Without exception.
Tendrils of white light wrapped around the goblin’s wrist like steel vines, anchoring him where he stood, engulfing his hand that still gripped the beacon, shooting up his arm to the shoulder, the light coiling and constricting, racing hungrily to consume his body. A high-pitched, strangled shriek came from inside the column of white flame that was Sarad Nukpana.
Then he was gone.
The Saghred’s glow diminished to a single pinpoint of light. It winked out, leaving the stone cold and dark on the altar.
Chapter 24
After the Saghred consumed Sarad Nukpana, our guards remembered places they desperately needed to be. Apparently their loyalty ceased to exist when their leader did. The fire pixies likewise made themselves scarce. Within seconds we were alone in the clearing.
As far as distractions went, it was one of my better efforts. And as far as near-death experiences went, I was surprisingly calm. Piaras was alive. I was outside the Saghred. Sarad Nukpana was inside the Saghred. No one was here to keep us from leaving. It wasn’t everything I wanted out of this evening, but I’d take it.
I cut the gag away from Piaras’s mouth.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
He took a shuddering breath and nodded. I couldn’t have agreed more; air was in short supply for me, too. Stupid, tight bodice.
I pulled one of the hat pins out of my bodice and went to work on Piaras’s wrist shackles. Fortunately there was only one lock. I didn’t want to take my eyes off the Saghred sharing the altar with Piaras, but it wasn’t like I had a choice. I heard a click and glanced up. A’Zahra Nuru had a dainty dagger in one tiny hand and had already picked the lock on one of Piaras’s ankle shackles. I only had one lock to pick and I was still working on it. Not that I was competitive or anything.
“Thank you, Primari.”
She smiled. “No, thank you, Mistress Benares.”
I heard a groan from behind us. The prince must be waking up.
“Go, I’ll finish,” I told her.
She rushed over to the prince. If my luck held, he’d be able to walk, too. I had something else to carry. It was lighter, but a whole lot more dangerous.
The moment I unlocked his wrist shackles, Piaras sat up and pulled a stiletto out of his sleeve.
“I can get the last one,” he told me.
And he did. Faster than I thought a lock could be picked. Piaras was very proficient, professional even.
He saw my surprise and flashed a quick grin. “Phaelan taught me.”
I was going to have a long talk with Phaelan.
Piaras removed the last shackle and scrambled off the altar. “What did you do?” He kept his voice low so Primari Nuru couldn’t hear. “Did you have to use…?” He threw a quick glance at the Saghred.
I shook my head. “Just my brain.” I grinned. “And some fatherly advice. Nukpana didn’t expect either one.”
The Saghred sat still and dark on the altar. “What’s it doing?” he whispered.
I grimaced. “Digesting?”
“We’re leaving now, right?” Piaras sounded like he’d prefer to be already gone.
“Just as soon as we can get that”—I pointed to the Saghred—“back in there.” I indicated the box.
“Do we have to take it with us?” Piaras sounded as thrilled with the idea as I was.
“Afraid we have to.”
“And you can’t just pick it up?”
“I’m trying to avoid that.”
“Probably a good idea.”
“May I make a suggestion?” asked a cultured voice from behind us.
We both jumped. I’d forgotten about Primari Nuru.
“Please do,” I said.
“As primitive as it may sound, a stick or small branch may be the solution. Turn the casket on its side, then use the stick to push the stone inside.”
I blinked. “A stick?”
“The Saghred only responds to direct contact. You would not actually be touching the stone. You should not be harmed.”
“Should not?”
Her half smile made her look almost girlish. “So the legends say.”
“No disrespect intended, Primari, but if it’s a legend, it’s safe to assume those who wrote it are dead. Since I can’t be sure it was from old age, and since I have blood on my hand.” I paused, fighting off a case of the heebie-jeebies. “I’ve been in the Saghred once tonight. It spit me out that time, and I’m not about to try my luck again.”
The goblin paled, no mean trick with her skin tone. “You were inside?”
I nodded. “And it’s not a trip I want to repeat, especially now that Sarad Nukpana’s been added to the welcoming committee.”
Someone was coming toward us. Fast. And they had a lot of company close behind them. My first instinct was to run. But with the Saghred still on the altar, and not a stick in sight, running wasn’t a viable option. Against my better judgment, I stayed.
It was Mychael and Garadin. There wasn’t a mark on either one of them, which was probably more than could be said for the Khrynsani ordered to take them to the compound. Several Guardians were close behind. Vegard was one of them. He looked a little on the pale side, but he was upright. He looked around the clearing and grinned.
“Ma’am, you were supposed to leave something for us.”
“Sorry about that. They left early.” I nodded toward the Saghred. “I got the feeling they didn’t like the company.”
The big Guardian looked where I was looking. He went a shade pasty. “I can understand that.”
Mychael looked like he wanted to do something along the lines of a rib-crushing hug. I was experiencing a similar urge toward him. He knew it. I knew that he knew. With the Saghred on the altar and more Guardians arriving in the clearing, I decided that we could always indulge ourselves later. First, I had a soul-eating stone of power to poke with a stick.
Mychael had a bare blade in his hands. I couldn’t help but notice that it was Khrynsani. I’d imagine its previous owner no longer needed it. The Guardian looked around the clearing, not trusting what he didn’t see. “Where’s Nukpana?”
Using the smallest gesture possible, Piaras pointed at the Saghred.
Mychael raised an inquisitive brow.
“It wasn’t pretty,” I told him.
“No doubt.”
“I’ll fill you in on the details later.”
“I wish you would.” He locked eyes with me. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
His eyes reflected concern, relief, and rage all at the same time, and I knew in no uncertain terms that if the Saghred and I hadn’t taken out Sarad Nukpana, Mychael would have. I suddenly felt warmed to my toes.
“No, I’m good.” I looked at the Saghred. “I’d be better if that was back in its box. Though at least I think it’s finished what it’s doing now.”
“Where’s the beacon?” he asked.
“Nukpana had it in his hand.”
“It’s inside, then.”
I nodded.
“Then why’s it still sitting out in the open?” Garadin asked, moving closer to the Saghred than I thought safe.
“Do you want to touch it?”
Garadin stopped. “Not really.”
Mychael sheathed his sword. I didn’t think that was a good idea either.
“Have you considered using a stick?” the Guardian asked.
Apparently he and the primari had heard the same legend.
“It’s been suggested,” I said.
“Then let’s do it. We need to get out of here.”
Mychael went and knelt next to Chigaru and A’Zahra Nuru. He touched the prince’s temple and raised one of his eyelids to check the damage.
“He is not badly injured,” the primari told Mychael. “He only needs time.”
“Time’s in short supply just now, my lady.”
I’d really hate to survive this long only to have the Saghred slurp me up for dessert, but considering where we were—and who and what was out there—I had to agree with his suggestion to vacate the premises. But that didn’t mean I had to like what I had to do before we left.
“I’ll find a stick,” Piaras volunteered.