No!

“Back,” I gasped. I managed to wedge my hands between Tam and me and pushed hard against his chest. “Dammit Tam, get back!”

My effort wasn’t necessary. Tam staggered back from me like I was the edge of an abyss and he’d almost fallen in. I dimly realized the fighting in the street had stopped.

“What are you doing here?” Tam’s words came out half strangled.

“The boy,” I heard myself say. “The Khrynsani want him.”

And me. A Khrynsani shaman knew Tam well enough to lower his defenses—and expected Tam to hand me over to him.

But Tam had killed him. With black magic.

I bent and retrieved my switchblade from where Tam had dropped it, never taking my eyes from the goblin that until two minutes ago, I had considered more than a friend. I flipped the blade open. It was in perfect working order. Good.

“Just what the hell are you doing here?” I growled. My eyes widened in realization. “You followed me here from Mermeia.” I looked at the dead Darshan. “Why? As a favor for the Khrynsani?”

Goblins had what they called “intricate alliances”—and even more intricate betrayals. I couldn’t believe that Tam would betray me.

I couldn’t deny that Tam was a dark mage.

Tam had always wanted me. Now Tam’s black magic wanted the Saghred. He’d come close to getting both.

“Raine!” It was Mychael’s desperate shout from somewhere in the street or the courtyard. I didn’t know. Hell, I could barely think. I put Rudra Muralin’s journal back in my jerkin, and saw that my hands were shaking. Fear, shock, rage—take your pick.

“Answer me, Tam!” I snapped.

Silence.

“Raine!” Mychael was closer.

“She’s here,” Tam called, loud enough to be heard by Mychael, but no one else.

Mychael appeared at the alley entrance, saw us, and noted the dead shaman. His eyes went back to Tam, his face an expressionless mask. The air around us still crackled with the remnants of our melded powers—and the acrid scent of Tam’s death curse.

I knew a little about Tam’s past. He’d reluctantly volunteered some things, and I’d heard whispered rumors of a few more. None of it was anything to be proud of. Mychael had known Tam long before I’d met him. As a lawman, I imagine Mychael had made it his business to know the name of every skeleton in Tam’s closet.

Mychael didn’t need to say a word; his blue eyes were blazing and so was his blade. They were doing his talking for him. Tam’s black eyes matched Mychael’s for intensity, and the red glow of a spell in readiness flared to life on his hands. The two of them were packing enough firepower to wipe out most of a city block. I’d seen this kind of behavior before—at high noon on a quickly deserted street. I was going to put a stop to it right now.

I stepped between them. It wasn’t the smartest idea I’d had today, but it’d keep either one of them from doing anything potentially lethal and definitely stupid.

“Mychael, I’m fine. Tam killed the Khrynsani to protect me.”

My voice was firm and assured, and Mychael didn’t buy it for a second. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it myself. Mychael didn’t get to be paladin without being able to recognize black magic, stop it in its tracks, and take down its practitioners. He held out his hand to me, never taking his eyes from Tam.

I didn’t take his hand, I didn’t look at Tam, and I walked out of the alley without either one of them.

The city watch had arrived and were helping the Guardians clean up the mess we’d made. There was a wagon being filled with dead Khrynsani. Mychael came out of the alley and after a glance at me, went to speak with the watcher in charge. When Tam emerged, he stayed in the shadows until he reached his men, also known as our mystery goblin allies. They were standing to the side, out of the streetlights, and the boy was with them. Like Tam, they were armed for trouble and wearing dark, rough leathers— dressed for doing something you didn’t want anyone to see you doing.

“You okay, ma’am?”

It was Vegard. He was close enough to protect me, far enough away to give me space. I wondered if he could smell the black magic on me.

“I’m good, but I could be better,” I told him, glancing over to where Tam and his men had been standing. They were gone. I wasn’t surprised.

Vegard looked where I was looking and nodded. “I understand, ma’am.” The blond Guardian’s ax was sheathed over his back, but the blade still held a faint glow. He hesitated uncomfortably. “You just let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.” His voice was soft, but his pale blue eyes were solemn with resolve.

My throat felt suddenly tight. “Thank you, Vegard.”

Mychael finished speaking with the watcher and crossed the street to where we were.

I took a breath and blew it out. “So, who was the kid?” My question sounded brisk and businesslike. Good for me.

“Talon Tandu. He works in Tam’s nightclub as a spellsinger.”

I knew Tam valued his people. I wondered what my value was.

A dragon landed with a plume of flame. Kalinpar. I could swear he was grinning at me. I didn’t feel like grinning back.

“My ride to the citadel, I take it?”

Mychael’s expression darkened. “I want you out of the central city now. Kalinpar is the fastest—”

“And quickest way to get around,” I finished for him. “I know. Let’s just get out of here.”

“In my office, please.”

That was a pleasant surprise. I half expected Mychael to say, “In my containment rooms,” without the “please.”

Those were the first words he’d said to me since Kalinpar had landed with us in the citadel’s courtyard. While airborne, the noise from the wind had made it difficult to carry on a conversation. Difficult, but not impossible. Yet Mychael had been silent in the saddle behind me the entire time. I think he hadn’t said anything because he wanted to make sure that I heard every word he said.

I had a real good idea what some of those words were going to be.

Mychael kept up his self-imposed vow of silence all the way to his office. The Guardians we passed saluted their paladin, but no one said anything. They took one look at Mychael’s expression, made the smart choice, and kept their mouths shut. Guardians weren’t stupid. Mychael was keeping his thoughts to himself. I was doing the same. His thoughts were probably along the lines of getting an explanation from me.

I was thinking about possible escape routes.

Mychael closed his office door behind us and went straight for the cabinet where he kept the whiskey. Now there was a thought I could agree with. He started pouring himself a glass.

I plopped down in a guest chair. I wasn’t going to wait for an invitation to sit down that might not come. I ran my hands over my face and left them there. They could make themselves useful and help me hold up my head. I didn’t think I’d ever been this tired.

“Do I get one of those, too?” I muttered through my hands. “Or are the condemned not allowed a last drink?”

Moments later I sensed Mychael standing beside my chair. I opened two of my fingers and looked through. He held a glass of the blessed amber ambrosia in both hands, and was offering one of them to me.

I took it. “Thank you. I really need it.”

“I imagine you do.” Mychael didn’t go behind his desk to his office chair as I’d expected. Instead he pulled the other guest chair next to mine. He sat down with the weary sigh of a man who’s had way too much dumped on his already overburdened shoulders. I didn’t need a flash of brilliance to know whose fault that was.

I sat back in my chair and took a good, long swig. The whiskey burned all the way down, spreading wonderful warmth as it went. It felt good.

Tam’s burn had felt better.

I thought it before I could stop myself. I set the glass aside, suddenly feeling nauseous. Best to get it over with. “I bet you want to know what happened in that alley.”