Rudra Muralin leaned over and spoke in hushed tones to Carnades. The elven mage’s lips tightened so much they almost vanished entirely. He took two steps toward me, no more.

“Mistress Benares, the goblin ambassador would like to be formally introduced.” Though the disdainful curl of his lip said he couldn’t imagine why. “Ambassador Rudra Mal’Salin, may I present Mistress Raine Benares.”

Rudra stepped forward and extended his hand. I stood my ground and ignored it, opting instead for graciously inclining my head.

He lowered his hand. “How insensitive of me. You’re the Saghred’s bond servant; physical contact with you might endanger me. You are too courteous.”

“I’m sure Magus Silvanus wouldn’t appreciate me accidentally vaporizing the goblin king’s new representative to Mid.”

“He’s been a splendid host, as my king longs to be to you.” Rudra’s beautiful black eyes glittered. “But you have spurned his advances.”

“And his lawyers.”

“An unfortunate necessity.”

“I take it King Sathrik felt his former ambassador wasn’t getting the job done?”

“Considering the state of affairs on Mid at the present time, His Majesty felt that a change of administration was called for.”

Now we couldn’t lock him up because he not only had diplomatic immunity; he was now the voice of King Sathrik Mal’Salin on Mid. I didn’t have to think hard to know exactly how Muralin had booted the previous ambassador out of office. The Saghred. Muralin thought he was close to getting his hands on it, and no doubt he promised to share the power bounty with the goblin king. Just like old times.

In one swift move he gained power, influence, and protection from prosecution. I had to admit that it was brilliant. It was probably going to get me killed or worse, but it was brilliant.

The goblin turned his attention to Sora. “Tell me, Professor Niabi, is Mistress Benares here to lend her unique talent to help with the demon infestation?”

“I’m hardly an expert,” I told him. “Unlike yourself.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard, Mistress Benares. I heard that you killed, captured, or crushed numerous demons yesterday. Who else but an expert could have accomplished such feats of daring? I eagerly await seeing what you have planned for an encore.”

“You’ll have a long wait, Ambassador. I’m not in that business.”

“What a pity. Especially since I understand that you are a seeker by trade, a quite proficient seeker. Magus Silvanus, it would be a shame not to take advantage of such skill. Finding a Hellgate is nearly impossible under the best of circumstances.”

I felt the barest hint of Rudra Muralin’s voice doing its thing. He was a spellsinger, one of the best, and at a thousand years old, he’d had a lot of time to practice. He was trying to influence Carnades, but he was wasting his breath. Carnades already wanted me dead; Muralin had just proposed a quicker alternative. The bastard.

My smile and polite demeanor never faltered. “I know enough about the shortcomings of my own skill to acknowledge a true professional like yourself, Ambassador Mal’Salin. From what I’ve heard, your expertise in all matters demonic is unparalleled. As is your modesty.”

He smiled, showing his fangs to everyone within seeing distance. People started backing off. “May I have a few moments alone to speak with Mistress Benares?” he asked Carnades. “I assure you I will be quite safe,” he added when the elven mage started to protest.

The mage inclined his head, but his eyes were arctic ice on mine. “But of course.”

Rudra Muralin held out his arm to me. I wasn’t about to take it.

Vegard started to follow me. I shook my head. He didn’t like it, but he stayed put.

I indicated a doorway about a dozen feet from where we stood. Rudra Muralin nodded and walked slightly ahead of me.

“You do not wish to be alone with me, Raine?” he whispered.

“That wouldn’t be good for either of our reputations,” I shot back smoothly.

I stood on one side of the door, Muralin on the other. There wasn’t nearly enough distance between us for my comfort, but it was far enough to keep him from slipping a dagger in my ribs. But it wasn’t a dagger that I was in danger from. It was his voice.

“I assure you that I will not try to bend you to my will,” he murmured. His voice dropped into a low, seductive register. “Unless you want me to.”

“Maybe next time.”

His smile was slow and mocking. “Though it would be amusing to watch Silvanus’s reaction if you suddenly wanted nothing more than to walk out of here with me. It would certainly save me much effort over the next few days.” His black eyes started at my boots and worked their way up-and took their sweet time doing it. “But some prizes are worth the wait.”

My eyes took in the not-quite-healed teeth marks in his right ear. My teeth marks.

“Nasty bite you have there, Ambassador Muralin… Excuse me, Mal’Salin. You should have that looked at.”

The goblin’s smile vanished. “I keep it to remind me of unpaid debts.”

“So did the former ambassador get a chance to clean out his desk, or did you just bury him in the basement?”

“I told His Majesty that I would prefer to quietly retrieve that which I came to Mid for. Your interference-along with Tamnais, his half-breed spawn, and Piaras-forced me to use a different approach. Do not think for one moment that I have forgotten their involvement. I repay all of my debts.”

I wasn’t going to be goaded into going down that road. “At least Sathrik let you keep your real first name.” I glanced over at the Khrynsani. “Keeps your minions from getting too confused.”

“Considering my youthful appearance, His Majesty thought it best to give me the use of the royal surname. He thought it might smooth the transition from the previous administration and open a few doors that might otherwise be closed to me.” He winked. “And my own name is rather notorious.”

“And no one would dare question or deny a Mal’Salin.”

“Precisely.” His black eyes glittered. “As you are well aware, I dislike being denied anything.”

“Get used to it, goblin.”

Genteel threats, all delivered under our breaths with amiable smiles for curious onlookers. I could fake nice, too.

“You take a great risk, Raine. As long as you and the Saghred remain on this island, it will be a target for those who desire power-and there are many who desire power. The last time the Saghred was on Mid was nearly a thousand years ago. Your father brought it here for protection. He realized the danger and fled with the stone. Now there is a college here with eager, young students, hungry for knowledge-and vulnerable. And thanks to you and Paladin Eiliesor bringing the Saghred here, now there are mages hungry for power. And demons hungry for students. My allies want power on this island and beyond. Your paladin stands in their way. They want him gone. I want the Saghred. You give it to me and they get disappointed.”

“I give you the rock and you’ll go away?”

Muralin snapped his elegant fingers. “Just like that.”

“Right. And I’ll bet you have a bridge in Laerin you want to sell me.”

The goblin laughed, vibrant and wantonly seductive. “We are not so different, you and I. When we want something, we will do whatever necessary to attain it.”

I felt the pull of his voice, the power that had been running under his words. Softly coaxing, gently probing at my will.

I pushed back.

I intended a psychic slap; it landed more like a jaw-shattering punch thanks to Mychael and Tam’s combined power inside me. I hadn’t meant to do it, but seeing the goblin flinch sharply in pain made it all worthwhile.

Muralin went utterly still. “You are stronger than before.”

“I’ve been working out.”

“I need that strength, Raine. And I will have it-and I will have you.” He didn’t wait for a response, but turned and went back to where Carnades waited. “I believe I am finished here, Magus Silvanus. Whenever you are ready, we will go.”