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“Who has the blade?” he demanded.
“The one you would least wish to possess it.”
He nodded curtly. “It was always a possibility things would go that way.”
The little girl shook her head. “NaughtySiabra. You’ve made things worse. But can you really blame her? After what you did to her people. Her children.” The child’s eyes gleamed.
“Perhaps.” He met her eyes. “Time will tell. Things were never going to stay as they were.”
She frowned. “Fate will tell. Fate tells all.”
“Then tell me how to save this woman,” he said quietly. “I beseech you, Lady.”
The child cackled. “Now you show piety. Centuries too late.”
“I found you in the desert. I saved you. You who dwelled in an empty husk. If it was a game, you’ve had your fun. If it was a test, surely I passed. At the price of her life. Now youwillhelp me,” he snarled.
The child nodded. “I will help you.” A pause. Then, “Take her hand.”
He hesitated. “I know what you’re trying to do.”
“Does it matter? The choice is yours.” The child shrugged. “Will you go so far for this woman? You need not.”
He eyed her sharply. “Something tells me you don’t want her dead either.”
The child gave a half-smile. “The thread may end here. Or it may twine together with another’s and go on.”
There was silence in the chamber.
“Blood calls to blood,” Draven said. Slowly he lifted one of the woman’s hands and held it in his own. “The ritual...”
“May not work,” the child finished. “You know what you risk.”
He studied the slender hand he held. “I’ll take the chance.”
“Very well. Blood calls to blood. You know what to do.” The child’s lips curled into a smile. “She may run.”
“She won’t have the opportunity,” he said shortly. “I’m taking her with me.”
He bent over the woman.
When he raised his head, there was blood upon his lips.
The child stepped back and lifted her small hands skywards.
A flash of white light appeared over the slumbering woman and began to spread outwards.
Draven stayed still, waiting for it to envelop him.
As the light reached where he stood, he dug his feet hard against the stones and stretched out his arms.
His body began to contort and change, human features warping and twisting into something dark and different.
The ears were the first to sharpen into points. Then small horns emerged, sleek and glossy, made of a black bone that seemed to absorb the light.
His hands shot out, fingers lengthening then tapering as razor-thin points materialized, the tips glistening with a deadly sheen as if they had been forged from molten gold.
“TheSiabrafinally shows his claws.” The little girl tilted her head slightly. “Will your people accept her?”
“They’ll have to. She’s mine now.” He bent down and gently lifted the woman into his arms.
The child watched, her eyes gleaming. “And what of her? Will she accept the bond?”
He ignored her. “What about you?” he asked coldly. “Just redressing the balance?”
“My sisters can’t have all of the fun.” The child smiled sweetly. “A gift to you then. Forged in blood and darkness. A bond that can never be broken.”
He looked down at the woman in his arms, her eyes closed. Her chest rose and fell evenly. “Never.”
THE END
