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Cadaver’s lips are moving, but the words and accent aren’t the demon’s—they belong to the sentinel of sorrow, Lord Loss.
“A cheap trick,” Beranabus grunts. “Too afraid to face us in person? Reduced to speaking through a puppet?”
“Why not use Cadaver’s mouth?” Lord Loss counters, speaking from his realm in the Demonata’s universe. “I gave it to him. I could have made use of any of my familiars, but I thought this one most fitting. Such a pity Kernel isn’t here. I’m sure Cadaver’s appearance would have revived many fond memories.”
“I have had enough of this,” Sharmila growls. She takes a step forward and raises her hand, taking aim at Cadaver.
“Wait,” Beranabus stops her. “He’s close to the lodestone. If we kill him, his blood will drench it.”
“Will that make a difference?” Sharmila asks.
Beranabus grimaces. “I doubt he’s there for show.”
“Astute as always,” Lord Loss murmurs through the unfortunate Cadaver. “You would have made a fine demon, Beranabus. You have wasted your talent on a far inferior species. But it’s not too late to change. Join us. Live forever as one of the rulers of the universes.”
“Live forever?” Beranabus laughs. “Nonsense! All things die. That’s the nature of existence.”
“Nature is about to be reversed,” Lord Loss says.
“By who?” Beranabus asks. “Your shadowy master? What’s his name? I can’t serve him if I don’t even know his name.”
Lord Loss tuts. “No names, not unless you join us.”
“Well, that’s not going to happen,” Beranabus sniffs. “And I don’t think you really expected me to switch sides. So why are we here? Do you want to gloat before your master kills us?”
“No,” Lord Loss says. Cadaver’s head swivels and his eyes fix on me. “We want Bec.”
Beranabus, Dervish and Sharmila shuffle towards me, forming a protective barrier. I’m touched by their show of support.
“What do you want with me?” I ask in a small, trembling voice.
“Your piece of the Kah-Gash, of course,” Lord Loss says.
Beranabus puts a hand on the nape of my neck. His fingers are shaking. By reading his thoughts, I understand why. Though I’m afraid, I place my hand over his and squeeze, giving my assent.
“You can’t have her,” Beranabus croaks. “I won’t let a piece of the Kah-Gash fall into your foul hands. I’ll kill her first.”
“But you love her,” Lord Loss gasps with mock shock.
“Aye,” Beranabus says. “But I’ll kill her anyway.”
Kirilli is gawping at us, confused and dismayed. Dervish and Sharmila look distraught but resigned.
“Then kill her,” Lord Loss purrs and I catch a glimpse of his wicked leer in Cadaver’s terror-stricken eyes. “It makes no difference. If she dies, the piece will be set free and faithful Juni will capture and deliver it to our new master. Death isn’t an obstacle to us, not any longer.
Beranabus squints at Cadaver, not sure if this is a bluff.
“The piece was originally mine,” Lord Loss says petulantly. “It lay dormant within me for hundreds of thousands of years. But when I shared my magic with Bec, back when I wished to preserve humanity, it slipped from my body into hers.” Cadaver shakes a hairy finger at me.
“It can move from one being to another?” Beranabus frowns and his thoughts move quickly. He uses a spell to communicate directly with me. Give it to me, he whispers silently. Pass it on.
I can’t, I reply. I don’t know how.
“Master,” Juni interrupts. “This window will close soon. If I am to return to your side, we must act now.”
“Of course,” Lord Loss says. “Wait a few moments more, my dear. Then you can come home.”
Cadaver bends forward over the lodestone, but his eyes remain rooted on us. “I must say farewell, old friends,” Lord Loss murmurs. “I don’t think any of you will survive the coming battle. You have caused me much displeasure over the years, but I shall miss you.”
