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.

From what I’d found out over the past two days, the Saghred would probably like nothing better than to demonstrate how it had gotten its nickname. I had a sneaking suspicion that was exactly what Nukpana had in mind. No doubt he’d like a little demonstration from the object he’d gone to so much trouble to get. And there was nothing like a spilled life to buy the life-long friendship of a soul-stealing rock. Spilled lifeblood to open it, and a soul sacrifice to tap its power, Prince Chigaru had said. I experienced an image of my father and the wraiths caught inside the stone. Nukpana needed me alive. He wanted Piaras alive. That left A’Zahra Nuru and the goblin prince. I didn’t know which one he planned for the instant death or the prolonged one, but it didn’t matter. Neither choice was acceptable to me.

I saw a gathering of stones ahead through the trees. It looked sickeningly similar to another rock altar in another part of The Ruins. Now I knew where we were going, but I still didn’t know what I was going to do when we got there in a few minutes. Sarad Nukpana held all the cards, and I was left with a bad hand and an even less promising chance at a bluff.

I wouldn’t bet on me, but plenty of others were.

Suddenly, I had an idea. And since the beacon was busy being happy, I knew I had come up with it all by my lonesome. As far as plans went, it was simple, and simple was often best. In theory. Problem was, theories that didn’t work had a bad habit of blowing up in your face. My plan also involved a couple of things I’d rather not do, like getting close to Sarad Nukpana—and even closer to the Saghred.

The first part of my plan was painless enough. It was a question. A question I now knew the answer to, thanks to my father. But Nukpana didn’t know I’d met my father.

“Why me?” I asked Nukpana.

If I couldn’t get a distraction, I’d take a delay. I didn’t care about getting Nukpana to reveal the vast scope and sordid details of his evil plan; I just wanted to keep him talking. As long as he was talking, he couldn’t start sacrificing. Tarsilia had always said, get a man talking about his favorite subject, and he’d forget just about everything else. I hoped she was right.

The goblin paused at the question. He didn’t seem baffled by it, merely interested. “You are your father’s daughter,” he said, as if that explained everything.

I swallowed. “And blood links are the best kind for this sort of thing.”

“Precisely.”

“How did you know him?”

“Let us say we shared similar interests.” He smiled. It could have been for any reason. “What interests me now is you.”

Nothing called for a subject change quicker than having a psychopath interested in you. I forced back the lump that had taken up residence in my throat. “You didn’t have the beacon. Nigel did. So how did you know the Saghred was in Mermeia?” If Nukpana wanted to chat like old friends, I could play along.

“Nachtmagus Nigel Nicabar should have chosen his words with more care—and been more selective to whom he spoke them. He acted unwisely. His indiscretion was his undoing.”

Indiscretion and a certain goblin grand shaman. Neighborhood gossips didn’t tie a rock around Nigel’s ankles for a midnight swim, or kick that crate from underneath Simon Stocken’s feet. But I didn’t imagine Nukpana saw either as his problem or fault.

The goblin smiled. “And just before dawn this morning I ran into Ocnus Rancil. Apparently he was about to leave on an extended vacation.” His smile broadened. “I persuaded him to stay.”

I suddenly didn’t feel so good. I’d never liked Ocnus, but I wouldn’t wish Nukpana’s persuasion on anyone.

“He mentioned that he had spoken with you and the paladin earlier,” the goblin continued. “He also mentioned a name that I had not heard in quite some time—Tamnais Nathrach.”

Now I really felt sick.

“Master Rancil told me everything I needed to know. In fact, he talked until he could talk no more. I have told His Majesty all about you. The Conclave Guardian’s daughter who will be helping us. He is most eager to make your acquaintance.”

Nukpana stopped at the edge of the clearing. The moonlight was just enough to see the trees on the far side, and more than enough to see the stone altar at the center. A quartet of Khrynsani temple guards stood at each of the altar’s corners. When they saw their grand shaman, they came to attention.