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I had to wait only a second or so before three figures appeared—Ilianna, Zaira, and Kiandra. But as Ilianna took the stairs two at a time and ran toward me, there was something in her face—a light in her eyes—that told me she really had become a part of this place. At that moment, I had no doubt that she and Carwyn would come to an agreement and that she and I would never share a house again. We would remain close for the rest of our lives, but things could and would never go back to what they were before all this madness began.

I blinked back tears—again, selfish ones, because life itself was all about change, not remaining static—and smiled as she all but slid to a halt in front of me.

“I’m okay,” I said swiftly, “despite my somewhat inelegant landing.”

“Maybe, but what the fuck is that?” She knelt on the other side of the cuneiform stone and tentatively reached out a hand. She didn’t touch it, however, but hovered her fingers an inch above the stone.

“It’s another of those cuneiform stones.”

She frowned. “It’s rather small, isn’t it? Aren’t all the others at least six feet tall?”

“Yes, but don’t let its size fool you,” I said. “It’s as powerful as its taller brethren.”

“Do they all feel this damn nasty?”

“Yeah, but then, a very nasty sorceress made them.”

“I think ‘nasty’ is underdescribing the bitch.” She pulled her hand away and sat back on her heels. “Why bring it here?”

“Because I wanted to know if the warding bracelet you made me is strong enough to withstand the assault of someone capable of this sort of magic.” I half shrugged. “I figured if I brought one of them here, you’d have a greater idea of what I face.”

“We are well aware of what you face.” Kiandra stopped beside Ilianna. “But we can give no guarantee as to whether the wards will withstand the type of magic that burns within that stone. It is a very foul mix of both the magic from this world and the other.”

I glanced at the stone lying in front of me. “But if it wasn’t actually created with blood magic, shouldn’t the wards hold up against it? It’s only blood magic that’s the problem, isn’t it?”

“Again, I cannot say.” She studied me for a moment, then said, “What has happened?”

I took a deep, somewhat shuddery breath, and said, voice surprisingly calm, “We walked into a trap. Azriel was taken.”

Ilianna sucked in a breath. “Is he . . . ?”

I smiled, but it felt grim. False. “He’s okay.” Or, at the very least, he was alive. “I’d know if it were otherwise.”

“The sorceress using his life as a bargaining chip for the key is not quite what I had envisioned,” Kiandra murmured. “I had thought it would be Hunter.”

“Our sorceress is nothing if not adaptable.” Once again I shoved fear and the need to be doing something—anything—rather than kneeling here calmly discussing logistics and magic back into its box. I couldn’t allow fear free, because it could all too swiftly become debilitating. And if I rushed, I could kill everything—everyone—I was trying to save. “And given that everyone else who means anything to me is otherwise protected, I guess he’s the logical target.”

“But your reaper would not be an easy target to contain,” Zaira said. She tucked a hand under Ilianna’s elbow and helped her rise. “Creating a cage capable of such a feat should have weakened her.”

“Should being the operative word there,” Kiandra commented, “Remember, she has had access to Aedh craft and spells, and we have no knowledge of the effects that will have on human flesh and spirit. It may not leave her anywhere near as debilitated as blood magic.”

“True.” Zaira’s expression was pensive. “Perhaps the only safe way to counter any spells designed to capture or otherwise control your actions would be to somehow not be you.”

I frowned. “She knows I’m part Aedh. She’d surely take that into account in any magic she aims my way. And given her connection to Lucian, she undoubtedly knows I’m also a face shifter.”

“Face shifting is not the answer,” Kiandra said. “Any alternate form you may take is still you.”

Join, Amaya said. Then magic not problem.

I blinked. What?

Join, she said again. Become one. Then not flesh or steel but both.

My heart began to race. As solutions went, it was a pretty damn good one. There was just one slight problem, and that was Amaya herself. The last time we became one, you decided you liked being in my body and I had to battle to get you back into the sword.

Weak you were, she said, somewhat huffily. Not so now.

Which isn’t actually a guarantee you’ll leave when asked.

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