“And if I refuse?”

As expected, he cast the barest glance at Piaras. I needed no further elaboration, and I hoped the prince didn’t see the need to give it.

“Sathrik murdered our mother with his own hands, Mistress Benares. He killed or exiled her most trusted counselors, and he has tried to kill me on numerous occasions. Now he has brought that shaman from the lower hells to rule beside him.” He paused, and I could see the muscles working in his jaw. “Even more that his diseased mind desires will be his once he has the Thief of Souls. Sarad Nukpana only needs spilled lifeblood to open it, and a soul sacrifice to tap its power.” His voice dropped to the barest whisper. “My brother has everything, with even more to gain. I have nothing left to lose.”

His eyes were jet orbs. Not only was he determined, he was desperate—and probably willing to do things a normal person would find just a little bit insane. Unfortunately his brother wasn’t here for him to take it out on. After being brought up in the same house as Sathrik Mal’Salin, I could almost understand the mentally unstable part. And on a certain level, I could understand and almost sympathize with his motivation, but not with what he was trying to do.

“Your decision is quite simple in my eyes,” he continued. “You are either for my brother, or you are against him.”

“I don’t see myself ever being for Sathrik Mal’Salin.”

“Then you will find the Saghred for me.”

I hesitated. Not the best move, but I didn’t want to get what I was about to say wrong. Such things have a way of blowing up in your face. Especially when I say them.

“From what I have heard of your brother and Sarad Nukpana, and from what I have been told of the Saghred, getting the three of them together in the same room is the last thing anyone wants to happen.”

“Then we are in agreement.”

“Understand my dilemma, Your Highness. I’ve heard what your brother and Sarad Nukpana are capable of. I do not know you, or your plans.”

“My plans are no concern of yours. Regardless, you are hardly in a position to bargain.”

“True. But you say that my friend and I will not be harmed, that we will be released once you have what you want. You’re asking for my complete trust on your word alone. I’ve never dealt with you, so don’t take this personally, but the elven people have had bitter experience with the word of a Mal’Salin. It’s often been open to interpretation, usually by the Mal’Salin who has just given their word.”

There was an angry hiss behind me, and the sound of a blade clearing its scabbard. The prince didn’t move. The guard next to Piaras didn’t move. I certainly wasn’t going to move. I also wasn’t going to get too excited about my chances for long-term survival. I didn’t hear the blade go back where it came from, and I really didn’t want to turn around and find out where it was.

The prince had been resting one of his hands on an intricately carved armrest. It snapped off under the pressure of his grip. I hoped it was wood rot, though I knew better. I tended to have that effect on people.

When the prince spoke, his voice was calm. “Unlike most of my family, my word is my sacred bond. You can believe that or not. But I had you brought here at great risk to my people and to myself because my brother gets close to his goal, and the Guardians grow increasingly desperate, as do I. So you see, Mistress Benares, neither one of us has any choice.”

I didn’t consider getting cozy with an object nicknamed Soul Thief much of a choice.

Prince Chigaru’s dark eyes drifted down to where the amulet rested against my chest beneath my doublet.

“Remove it.”

I made no move to comply. “I can’t take it off.”

“I am not interested in what you want, Mistress Benares. I have given you every opportunity to end this without any actions we would both find distasteful.”

“She can’t take it off. It won’t let her.” Piaras’s voice was strong and quavered only slightly.

Like a spark beneath cold embers, I felt the power flare to life under the young spellsinger’s words. The danger was there, and it was real, palatable in the room’s chilled air. I didn’t know if Piaras realized what was happening, but the prince knew something was different. He had been schooled in the magical arts too well not to know. But I don’t think he recognized Piaras as the threat he was. Yet. The last thing I wanted was for Chigaru Mal’Salin to see Piaras as anything other than harmless. I needed a distraction.

I pulled the amulet from beneath my shirt.

Piaras’s response was immediate and impassioned. “No!” He lunged for me, but was restrained by the two guards.

I forced myself to ignore him. Fortunately, Prince Chigaru didn’t have that problem. His attention was instantly riveted to the amulet gleaming in the firelight. I took a deep breath. Mission accomplished. It brought up a whole new problem, but I was prepared to deal with that any way I had to. I had a feeling it wasn’t going to be pleasant for anyone in that room, including myself. I didn’t care. My hands were untied, there was a window in the room, and I was more than ready to leave. I could feel the amulet stir, its warmth spreading through my body. I think it had had enough, too.

The prince had stood and was now leaning over me, his hands resting on the armrests of my chair, effectively pinning me in my seat. His hair fell in a dark, silken curtain around us both, concealing us from sight. He made no move to touch me, or take the amulet. He just stared at me in a way no one had ever looked at me before. It was awe mixed with recognition of elemental power and an overwhelming desire to possess it. I didn’t like his look one bit. I stared back. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a large dust-covered vase on a side table. It wasn’t close enough for me to get my hands on, but I didn’t need my hands to introduce it to the back of Prince Chigaru’s head. It was a pleasant image and I treated myself to a small smile. The goblin misunderstood it entirely. His problem, not mine.

“It has bonded to you,” he breathed. “The Soul Thief itself shines through your eyes. You glow with the power of death.”

I recoiled, more from his words than from a Mal’Salin prince only inches from my face.

There was a scuffle in the shadows, then a grunt as Piaras hurled himself at the goblin prince, taking both of them to the ground in a tangle of limbs. The guards, no longer distracted by their prince’s attention to me, tried to pull Piaras off, only to receive kicks for their trouble. One flick of thought and the vase flew from the table into my hands. It was large and metal and made a satisfying solid sound when it came in contact with the guards’ heads. The wrestling mass parted briefly and I was rewarded with a clear shot at Prince Chigaru’s shoulder. It wasn’t the body part I had in mind, but I wasn’t in a position to be picky, so I took it. The doors crashed open and more goblins poured into the room—armed goblins who weren’t happy to find their prince on the floor. Armored hands slammed me back into my chair, and a sword point made sure I stayed there. Piaras was jerked upright, both arms wrenched behind his back.

The prince stood and slowly wiped blood from his lip. His eyes were blazing. Piaras didn’t flinch or look away.

Prince Chigaru addressed the guards. “Secure our guests in the room upstairs, post guards, then report back to me.”