With the Saghred clutched to my side, I started off down the corridor.

Mychael caught my arm. I wrenched it away.

“He’s up there,” I told him.

“Let me go first.”

“Not this time,” I said.

I ran to the foot of the stairs.

Sarad Nukpana stood at the top. He was smiling.

“There you are, Mistress Benares. I believe you have something for me?”

The goblin grand shaman almost sounded happy. I imagine he was. He thought this was going to be his lucky night.

I wasn’t entirely certain he was wrong.

Chapter 23

The mausoleum was more crowded than it had been when we had left.

We had used one light globe so as not to attract attention. The Khrynsani had torches, a lot of them. They didn’t need to sneak. They belonged there.

They also outnumbered us at least five to one.

Vegard lay unmoving on the ground, his scalp bloody, his ax still in his hand. More than a few motionless goblins shared the ground with him. The bloodied ones were probably Vegard’s work, those with no visible marks of violence were probably the result of Garadin and Primari Nuru’s attentions.

I saw why Garadin had called a ceasefire. A pair of Khrynsani temple guards held scythelike blades less than an inch from Piaras’s throat. It looked like Piaras had made a magical contribution of his own, or tried to. I glanced at Mychael. His face was completely impassive. No clues there.

Sarad Nukpana held out his hand to me. I didn’t have to ask what he wanted. I looked to Mychael. The Guardian didn’t hesitate. He nodded once, tightly.

I did hesitate, and I certainly expressed my disbelief. “What?”

“Give it to him.” Mychael’s voice was perfectly level, utterly controlled.

There were two ways I could interpret that statement. One would be a lot more enjoyable. Unfortunately, I didn’t think that was the one he meant.

“I am gratified to see you are being reasonable, Paladin Eiliesor,” Nukpana said, his tone equally flat. He didn’t know what Mychael was up to either. That made two of us. Garadin looked baffled, too. Apparently it was contagious.

I did a quick search for another option. It didn’t take long, since there wasn’t one. Give Nukpana the Saghred and I had nothing to bargain with. But if I refused, things would get ugly in short order, with more bloodshed a virtual guarantee.

So what I said was, “I’ll make you a deal.”

Nukpana sighed. “Another deal, Mistress Benares? This grows tiresome.” He gestured and the two blades made contact with Piaras’s throat. Contact, but no blood. They had been told to be careful. Nukpana wanted to have his cake and eat it, too.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Prince Chigaru move. If there was any chance I was going to give the Saghred to anyone, the goblin prince wanted it to be him. Primari Nuru’s hand on his arm stopped him before the Khrynsani guards’ blades could. From the look in their eyes, they wanted him to try it again. From Chigaru’s expression, they’d probably get their wish.

“The lives of my friends,” I told Nukpana. “I give you the Saghred, and you let them leave here. Alive.”

He glanced at Chigaru with a half smile. “Does this assurance include the Mal’Salin in your company?”

“It does.”

Prince Chigaru stiffened at Primari Nuru’s side. Either he was surprised I didn’t want Nukpana to kill him, or I’d just insulted him and committed yet another goblin social gaffe. I didn’t have time to sort it out.

“Tell me why I should do this,” Nukpana said.

I didn’t expect the goblin shaman to keep his word, regardless of what he agreed to. But if I couldn’t buy my friends’ freedom, I could at least buy some time. I didn’t dare risk a glance at Mychael, but I thought he’d agree that buying time was a good investment.

“From what I understand, you still need me,” I told him. “The Saghred’s not going to jump through hoops for you without me giving the word. Seeing my friends walk away from here would make me happy—and a lot more willing to cooperate.”

Nukpana went through the motions of thinking it over. I knew he wasn’t seriously considering agreeing to anything, he was just prolonging the game. The paladin of the Conclave Guardians, a Mal’Salin prince, a primari of the highest order, a former Conclave mage—these were prisoners the Khrynsani could only dream of. And then there was Piaras.

“No deals, Mistress Benares,” Nukpana said. “But you may keep the Saghred. It is a lovely night and but a short distance to where we need to go.” His dark eyes were shining. “A stroll in the forest with a beautiful lady. I cannot imagine a better way to end my trip to your city.” He glanced at Mychael, a slow smile forming, fangs visible. “That is if the count does not mind me borrowing his new bride. I promise to keep her undamaged for as long as possible.”

Sarad Nukpana could have meant any number of things by that, and I knew I didn’t want to know about any of them.

Mychael didn’t respond, at least not with words. He was utterly still, a dangerous stillness, so still that the only movement was the pulse in his neck. I felt the power he barely managed to hold in check. It was primal, and what it would have done to Sarad Nukpana would not have been pretty. Mychael didn’t need his voice to fight Nukpana and the goblin knew it. The goblin also knew that Mychael couldn’t risk it—at least not yet.

Nukpana half turned to an ornately armored guard. He wasn’t about to turn his back on Mychael, hostages or not. “Zubari, if you and your guards will take the paladin and mage to the compound. Mistress Benares, the witch, the prince, and the nightingale will be coming with me.”

Where we were going wasn’t anywhere I wanted to be.

The Ruins was my least favorite place in Mermeia, and for the second time in as many nights, here I was again. I wasn’t familiar with this section, but seeing that it jutted against the Goblin District, there was a perfectly good reason why I had never made it a point to visit. It was darker and even scarier than the rest of The Ruins, if that was possible. Or maybe it was just the company.

The Mal’Salin family controlled the embassy compound, and I had assumed that for security’s sake, Sarad Nukpana would want to stay there. It looked like he favored privacy over protection. But with the small Mal’Salin army surrounding us, I didn’t think Nukpana considered security much of an issue.

A distraction or two would be good, but I wasn’t going to count on any happening. I hoped we were being followed by some of Mychael’s Guardians, but I’ve always tried to avoid counting on help I couldn’t see. No doubt there were plenty of plans being formulated in many heads, but since I had no way of knowing if any stood a chance of going beyond the planning stage, I wasn’t going to depend on any for help. This one was all mine.

Nukpana offered me his arm. “The footing ahead is uncertain.”

Ordinarily I would have seen it as a gallant gesture of a distinguished gentleman. Tonight I would have rather taken the arm, or whatever, of a Magh’Sceadu.

“I’ll take my chances.”

He suddenly had my wrist. I hadn’t seen him move. His grip wasn’t painful, but I wasn’t going anywhere, either. Never taking those black eyes from mine, Nukpana linked my arm through his. “I would rather you didn’t.” His voice was low and dark; apparently disobedience wasn’t a familiar concept.

The trees around us were dark and silent. No shrieks, calls, or growls. No flickering lights. The first time I had been taken into The Ruins by Mal’Salin guards, I had deemed the creatures living there to be the greater of two evils until my captors proved otherwise. Tonight I knew better. The evil in The Ruins hadn’t taken the night off. It was walking next to me.

Though walking into The Ruins gave me time to think. Not that I needed time, I knew what I wanted to do, which was more than I could say for the beacon or the Saghred. From the stone there was no sound at all. The beacon, on the other hand, was making the same happy, perky sounds that had been annoying me since we arrived at the embassy. I wasn’t annoyed anymore. Now I just felt betrayed. Either the beacon knew something I didn’t, or it didn’t care who reunited it with its long-lost buddy, just as long as it happened.