It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t answer.

“What is your proposal, Your Highness?” Mychael asked the prince.

I welcomed the change of topic.

“The Guardians have failed in their duty,” Chigaru said without hesitation. “The Thief of Souls is too dangerous to be left in the custody of your order. As long as it is, there will be a danger of it being found and misused by those such as my brother or Sarad Nukpana.”

I’d heard enough. “Or yourself? To use against your brother?”

“The Thief of Souls cannot be wielded,” Primari Nuru said. “It brings madness and death to any who try. You are the first known exception. The stone’s very existence is an abomination.”

I already knew all that, and really didn’t want to be reminded with the rock itself probably less than a hundred yards away.

Mychael spoke. “In the nine hundred years since my order took the Saghred into our keeping has it ever been taken or used again for evil purposes?”

Prince Chigaru stood mute.

Mychael tactfully didn’t directly mention the single recorded use of the Saghred—by the prince’s own ancestor, whom the Guardians defeated. Subsequently, they took protective custody of the stone.

“Nine hundred years isn’t too shabby a record, Your Highness,” I said quietly. “Why don’t you just let these gentlemen do their job?”

The prince was as still as the marble statues in the garden, his dark eyes on Mychael. “You question my motives because I am a Mal’Salin.” It wasn’t a question. He knew the answer.

“Yes,” Mychael replied truthfully. “I do. But my main concern is for your present circumstances. You are still gathering allies with which to overthrow your brother. I wish you well and hope that you succeed. Your people will suffer under your brother’s rule. But for now, yours is a young government in exile. You may have the means to acquire the Saghred, but you lack the experience and—no insult intended—the strength needed to protect it. There is also the temptation to use the stone, if not by you, then by your allies. You trust them to help you defeat the king, but can you trust them near the Saghred?”

The prince placed his hand on A’Zahra Nuru’s slender shoulder. “When I first learned my brother’s plans, I will admit the temptation to use the Saghred against him was strong. But Primari Nuru has convinced me that I must choose another way.”

Good for her.

“Using the Saghred would only turn me into that which I have sworn to destroy,” he continued. “It may take longer to defeat Sathrik, but my allies grow more numerous and stronger every day. In the end, I will prevail. If I do not, Sathrik would use the Saghred against our own people and yours. He must not possess it.”

“Then we are in agreement,” Mychael said. “Allow me to carry out the duty of my office unimpeded.”

When the paladin stopped talking, the rest of us started holding our breath. To his credit, the prince seemed to give honest consideration to Mychael’s words.

“Is there any assistance either I or my people might offer you?” Chigaru asked.

I started breathing again, and I think I heard A’Zahra Nuru do the same.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Mychael said, with a slight smile. “Yes, there is one thing I may need your help with.”

I had to consider the possibility that Chigaru Mal’Salin may not have inherited all the personality defects his family tree had to offer. The primari thought the world of her prince. Tam trusted A’Zahra. I trusted Tam. Completing the circle shouldn’t be difficult, but it was.

“Excuse me, Your Highness, but I have a question,” I asked.

“Yes?”

“The Saghred isn’t all your brother and Sarad Nukpana want this evening. Does your agreement to help Paladin Eiliesor extend to me and mine?”

“I understand that having you and your spellsinger at his mercy would please Sarad Nukpana and my brother. My brother and I have long enjoyed depriving each of what makes the other happy. Preventing my brother from capturing the two of you would greatly annoy him.” He smiled. It was genuine, and it transformed his face with almost boyish glee. “This would please me.”

It wasn’t exactly the I’m-your-ally-now-and-you-can-trust-me answer I was looking for, but who am I to deny a goblin prince the simple joys of life?

Chapter 22

Only the Mal’Salin family would buy a house with a mausoleum in the gardens—and gardens that backed directly into The Ruins.

To tell you the truth, I couldn’t tell that much difference between The Ruins and what the Mal’Salins referred to as their gardens. In the distance, I could even see a few pinpoints of light that looked suspiciously like fire pixies. It was disconcerting to say the least. I glanced at Piaras. A muscle in his jaw was starting to twitch. Looked like I wasn’t the only one who had noticed.

The mausoleum was on what passed for a hill on the property, and that was where the now-tingling beacon wanted to go. I’d rather just go directly for Sarad Nukpana, but the beacon hadn’t asked my opinion.

Chigaru Mal’Salin had agreed to help. I was hardly surprised. We were going after the very thing that he had been willing to torture Piaras for quite recently. So I think I could be excused a healthy dose of skepticism. On the other hand, Prince Chigaru had a perfectly good chance to kill us once and he didn’t take it. That didn’t exactly earn him sainthood status in my book, but sometimes a girl had to take what she could get.

I shot Mychael a look that I think fully conveyed the extent of my feelings and received a bare nod for my trouble. At least he was being cautious. The goblin prince and Primari Nuru were flanked by Vegard and Riston. The prince’s four guards would keep their distance while keeping watch. A few people strolling in the gardens was one thing, but with Chigaru’s guards, we more closely resembled a herd—and herds attracted attention. The prince had agreed. So far he was being the perfect gentleman. I hoped it lasted, but I wasn’t going to hold my breath.

The beacon was likewise behaving itself, and I held out as much hope for its continued good behavior as I did for the prince’s. The tingling had resolved itself into a quiet hum. It had let me know where we were going, and was now content to wait until we got there.

In a few minutes we would be surrounded by the dark, the damp, and the dead. I had never had the pleasure of visiting the Mal’Salin mausoleum, and would feel better about our destination if I knew more about it. I would also feel better if I could get my hat off my head. There was no way I was going into a cramped mausoleum wearing that hat. With a whispered apology to Mychael’s cousin, I removed the hat pins and ditched the hat under the nearest bush. If I was going to die tonight, at least I’d die comfortable. I kept the hat pins and tucked them into the top of my bodice in between it and the corset. The more sharp, pointy things in my possession, the better. Then I removed the pins holding my hair up, and my hair came cascading down. I looked up to find that I had Mychael’s complete and undivided attention. From his expression, you’d think I was standing there naked.

“So, how many of your family are interred in the mausoleum, Your Highness?” I asked, trying to shift attention to anyone but me. I felt Mychael’s eyes following me. I wasn’t sure whether to feel flattered or to run.

The goblin prince looked puzzled. “None. All Mal’Salins are entombed in our family citadel at Regor.”

I didn’t want to ask, but I had to. “Then these people are…?”

He shrugged. “They came with the property. My great, great grandfather saw the mausoleum and had the house and gardens built around them. I believe the original owners were an old Mermeian family who have long since died out. My family would often spend summers here. When we were children, my brother and I would play among the crypts beneath the mausoleum.”