The Consort shrieked, throwing up arms to shield its eyes as the cell was filled with blinding brightness. Like molten stone, it burned his skin.

The Explorer let the curtain drop, and the Consort immediately Drew on his reserve, healing the damage. The pupils of the humans had not even dilated, but it was more light than the Consort could bear for long. He would be drained of power even before the day star rose to burn him into oblivion.

“Got anything to say?” the Explorer asked, still clutching the cloth.

It was a ploy. The Unifiers had kept him too long to kill him now. But the Consort’s eyes still burned, and the auras around him were unreadable. He could not risk it.

The Consort Drew hard, rolling to the side and strengthening a claw to shatter the lock he had eroded. A twist of the chain freed one of his legs, and he reached out, snatching the broken pieces of lock in his talons.

A short burst of power sent metal flying through the room. Neither the Consort nor his magic could leave the circle at the center of the mosaic, but once in motion, the projectiles flew uninhibited.

The Heir batted one piece aside with a wave of his weapon. The Explorer dissipated, letting it pass harmlessly through him. The Hunter was struck, but her aura brightened, healing the damage instantly. The female drone angled her shield and diverted the missile harmlessly.

The male drone was dim, but quick and alert. He stepped precisely as the Consort anticipated, and the twisted bit of metal missed him to strike the wall behind at precisely the right angle to rebound into the back of his head, knocking the warded wrappings he wore askew.

Dazed, the drone stumbled onto the mosaic and collapsed, one limb falling forward, the barest fingertip crossing the circle.

But even that breach was enough for the Consort to slip into his mind, crushing the drone’s will like an insect.

The others rushed to him, but they pulled up short when the drone got to his feet and placed himself in front of the Consort, his spear and shield held at the ready.

“Shanjat, stand aside,” the Heir said.

“Your drone no longer controls this shell,” the Consort replied, using the warrior’s mouth to form the clumsy, inefficient vibrations of their speech.

The Heir pointed the hated weapon at him. “Shanjat is ready for Heaven, demon. We will not release you for him.”

“Of course not,” the Consort agreed. “He is only a drone. He does not expect you to save him. He begs your forgiveness for his failure.”

“There is no dishonor in being defeated by a superior foe,” the Heir said, emotion coloring his aura and clouding his judgment. How easily they were manipulated!

“Indeed,” the Consort agreed. “You were correct that I cannot form your words, but this drone will serve hence as my voice.”

The female drone made a low sound, her aura coloring with a delicious blend of pain and anger. The Explorer reached again for the curtain. “Just for now, Shanvah. You’ll get your da back.”

She would not, of course. The Consort had already severed the drone’s will and replaced it with his own. He could access the drone’s thoughts, feelings, and memories, but without the Consort’s will to animate it, the body would wither and die. “What price for my freedom?”

“The path to the Core,” the Explorer said.

“They are all about, for one such as you, Explorer,” the Consort said.

The Explorer shook his head. “A real one. Kind you use to march your prisoners down to demon town.”

“A dangerous path, and winding,” the Consort said. “Countless twists and turns. Too much for this primitive drone to impart, but I can guide you.”

“We cannot simply trust this servant of Nie,” the Heir said.

“No one trusts anyone,” the Explorer said. “Just talking, is all.”

The Heir chafed at the Explorer’s dominant tone, and the Consort turned to him, both heads swiveling at once. “Your Nie and Everam are fictions. Soothing grunts to ease your fear of the dark.”

“More lies,” the Heir said.

The Consort shook the drone’s head. “You want to know why we have something, instead of nothing. Perhaps the worthiest question one of your primitive intellect can muster. The mind court has pondered this for millennia. There are many plausible answers, but none of them resembles the ridiculous fantasy the Mind Killer used to inspire his warriors.”

“Mind Killer?” the Heir parroted.

“The one you call Kaji,” the Consort said. “Though in truth it was pronounced Kavri.”

“How can you know this?” the Heir demanded.

“I knew him, in my fashion,” the Consort said. “All my kind did, in those cycles.”

“You were alive in the time of Kaji?” the Heir demanded. “Three thousand years ago? Impossible!”

The drone smiled. “Five thousand one hundred twelve. You’ve lost count many times, over the years.”

The female drone dared speak to her betters. “He lies.”

“He is the prince of liars,” the Heir said.

“Night, what is the matter with you?” the Hunter snapped. “Ent here to argue scripture!”

The Heir’s aura filled with anger at her tone, and she leaned in, fearless before the kill.

“Enough,” the Explorer said quietly, his submissive tone belying his dominance as their auras shamed and they stood down.

“Why would you take us there?” the Explorer asked.

“Because the journey is long, and you are mortal. The time will come when your guard grows lax, and then I will be free.” The Consort let out a false aura, granting sincerity to his words.

“Fair enough,” the Explorer said.

“And because the surface will soon be swept clean,” the Consort added.

“Eh?” the Explorer asked.

“You understand nothing of what your actions in the desert have brought upon your people,” the Consort said.

“There will be swarm.”