Will broke in, “Otherwise you’ll have to pretend to be me for decades to come.”

  “Assuming you don’t take the coward’s way out, but you know what I’ll do to them if you do,” sneered the lich.

  Closing his eyes, Will took a deep breath. Losing his temper wouldn’t help matters. “Do you know what Selene and Janice are up to?”

  The monster staring back at him smiled coldly. “Your wife didn’t tell you when you snuck in here earlier? Do I sense division in paradise?” When Will didn’t respond, he continued, “Of course I know, just like I knew you came sniffing around. Be careful you don’t destroy our ruse. If the dragon gets wind of it and spoils our plans…”

  “I know,” snapped Will. “What is she doing?”

  His evil twin laughed. “Something helpful, and no, before you ask, I had nothing to do with it. Most of the theory behind it comes from that clever old man at your school, Master Courtney, but I have no doubt she would have succeeded even without his help. Your wife is brilliant beyond what a cretin such as yourself could ever appreciate. If I’d had a disciple with her wit and intelligence back when I was alive, we might have found a way to stop the dragon from the very beginning.”

  Will ignored the insult. “Thousands of years and you still talk endlessly without communicating anything. What is she doing? I need to know if we’re to coordinate properly.”

  “Making a weapon to help you against the dragon.” Grim Talek laughed. “She’ll explain in due time. You still have to succeed in your next task, otherwise none of this will matter.”

  He still wasn’t ready to let go of the subject. “Is there necromancy involved in her project?”

  The lich held up his thumb and index finger, pinching them until they almost touched. “Only the tiniest bit of necromancy. Nothing nefarious, I assure you. Your wife is very clever. Trust me, you’ll like this.”

  Will growled.

  “You need to hurry, William. The forges are ready, and we’re running out of time.”

  “I’m ready,” said Will, “but from what Selene said it might be dangerous to do it in Cerria with the nest there. Myrsta might be the only location I can use, but then we have to consider overland transport.”

  The lich shook his head. “There’s a ley line nexus in the mountains between your old village and Branscombe. Use it.”

  He lifted his brows. That was new information. “I don’t know where it is. It would be easier to ask my grandmother. I’m certain she doesn’t need a ley line to create a gate.”

  “We can’t risk her involvement, William. We’ve been over this. The nexus is near the mountain pass—you’ve been there. As advanced as your talents have become, you’ll have no trouble finding it now.”

  Bile rose in his throat as he thought about the agreement the lich wanted him to broker. “I don’t know if I can do this. Surely there’s something else we can barter with.”

  The lich sneered. “Demons don’t give a damn about your soft heart, and they care even less about gold or other temptations, but they love souls. You ruined my plans in Myrsta, but you gained enough notoriety with them that you can probably sell this. Channel your inner villain, or just pretend you’re me. Surely if I can pretend to be a disgustingly kind idiot for this long, you can manage being evil for a day.”

  Will wanted to throw up, but he hid his disgust. “Are you sure you can deliver? If I make promises and you don’t have the—” he stopped, unable to say the word.

  “Livestock, William,” supplied the lich. “Just think of them as livestock. It makes everything easier. Trust me, the Shimerans are barely smarter than animals anyway. I still have full control over Shimera. The priests are already whipping the crowds into a frenzy for a new holy revelation. Just open the gate at the correct time and place, and the demons will do the rest. You don’t even have to watch. Close it up when they’re done, and bring their payment back to Wurthaven afterward.”

  He stared blankly at his own face, not trusting himself to speak.

  Grim Talek smiled. “Don’t think too hard on it. It’s only a few million people. Shimera’s never been that populous.” As though the sacrifice of millions meant nothing, the lich held up a page containing a short rune sequence, pressing it closely to the enchanted silver so that Will could read it easily. “Copy this down. It’s the optimal turyn polarity and frequency for hurting dragons and dragonkin, such as the egg guardians. You can substitute it into most elemental spells without much difficulty. You’ll need it when the time comes to fight.”

  With disquieting ease, Will’s brain switched from moral disgust over his ethical dilemma to interest in the magic being presented. Using the scribe spell that he had once learned from the lich, he quickly made a copy of the sequence shown, then he asked, “This will kill them? If so, I don’t need to make this deal.”

  “No, William. It will make a firebolt or similar spells inflict a little more damage to them, but ultimately, it’s still just a nuisance. Once, when I still had a living heart, I hung my hopes on discovering this spell sequence, only to be driven into deeper despair when it ultimately failed. Give up on hope. The demons have what we need—get it.”

  The connection ended, and the lich’s face vanished. Groaning, Will put his face on his desk. The sound of purring and a gentle touch on his leg came as Evie tried to comfort him, but it only made him feel worse. Looking down into her green eyes, he muttered, “If you knew what I’m involved with, you wouldn’t be so supportive. You used to hate demons, remember?”

  The cat tilted her head to one side, then meowed softly.

  “I wish you could talk. How long does it take to learn?” he asked, but the cat didn’t respond.

  Chapter 31

  He spent the next day in Rimberlin, staying out of sight in the bedroom and his study while working to incorporate the new type of turyn into some of his spells. Ethelgren’s light-darts spell was the easiest substitution, and while he couldn’t reflex cast it with the change, he felt relatively certain it wouldn’t take too long before it was once again instantaneous.

  The wind-wall was more difficult and given its more distributed form of damage, he didn’t know if it would work well, especially since reducing the elemental air turyn notably reduced the spell’s physical efficacy. In the end, he opted for a fifty-fifty mix, though he still wasn’t happy with the result. Again, it would take some practice before he could reflex cast it, but since he still spent an hour a day practicing various spells, that didn’t seem like much of a barrier. The final battle wouldn’t come for weeks yet.

  Sammy visited him several times over the course of the day, surreptitiously bringing him meals, as well as ham for Evie. She was visibly jealous of the cat’s attachment to him, but since the feline did allow some petting after the proper meat tribute had been paid, Sammy didn’t complain.

  His cousin probably would have spent more time with him, but since Will’s presence was a secret from everyone but her and Blake, she had to account for her time. Emory was passionate about his study and practice sessions with her. Will appreciated the dedication, though he still had mixed feelings about the nobleman’s motivation. It wasn’t entirely rational, but he couldn’t help himself.

  After a solid night’s sleep, Will woke the next morning to find Evie curled up on his pillow, just above and behind his head. It was comforting and strange at the same time. While he was sure she was either a reincarnation or perhaps a child of the goddamn cat, the behavior was yet more proof that she was different. The ancient cat he had known would never have been so social with him, though he had allowed Sammy to take an unlimited number of liberties with his dignity. Evie clearly had her own preferences.

  Rubbing between and around her ears, Will tried not to think too hard about the grumpy old cat, lest tears ruin the start of another day. He spent some time running through his new training regimen until Blake showed up with breakfast and stayed to eat with him. After an amiable chat and filling his belly, Will was loathe to leave, but he knew nothing good would come from delaying. He started to take advantage of Blake’s presence to help him dress, since his under-tunic brigandine could be a pain to don by himself.

  Blake didn’t seem to approve, however. “Is there some reason not to use the breastplate?”

  Will stared back at him but said nothing.

  The butler began counting on his fingers. “It’s more comfortable, it’s easier to move in since it isn’t tight against your skin, it’s lighter, and it’s damn near impenetrable. Unless you’re going to a ball and want to appear unarmored, there’s no reason not to use it instead of the brigandine.”

  Looking up and to one side, Will admitted, “To be honest, lately I haven’t been wearing either of them very much.”

  The old soldier clucked disapprovingly. “Feeling suicidal, eh?”

  “No,” said Will, denying the truth. “Just foolish.” He stored the brigandine and summoned the demon-steel breastplate. The metal had a black tint to it, like silver that had begun to tarnish, an indication that it held some amount of demonic turyn, even though Will had ‘cleaned’ it before storing it the last time he had taken it out. Since Blake was about to help him buckle it on, he removed the poisonous energy again, causing the armor to regain its grey metallic sheen.

  Blake waited, then asked before touching the metal, “It’s safe now?” After Will nodded, the other man helped him put it on and buckled it into place. “What happens if you don’t remove the evil every now and then?”

  He smiled. “It isn’t evil, technically. It’s just a type of energy antithetical to our own.”

  The butler waved his hand. “Evil, death magic, whatever you call it—what happens if you don’t clean it out?”

  Will shrugged. “Eventually, it will begin to burn with black flames, though I’m not sure if you could see them or not. At that point, it will kill or sicken anyone who gets too close. It will keep that up until it radiates enough energy away to become stable again, somewhere around the midpoint of how much energy it can contain.”

  “Contain? You make it sound like a cup holding wine.”

  “That’s a good analogy,” said Will. “When it’s empty, it looks like ordinary steel. As it absorbs energy, it becomes black, and after a certain point it starts to burn or radiate energy. You can keep putting energy into it beyond that, which will increase the time it takes to burn away the excess, but if you put too much in, it will eventually explode. Of course, I prefer to keep it completely drained so it won’t hurt anyone near me.”

  “So, it absorbs good magic?” asked Blake.

  Will smiled again, shaking his head. “No, and the word you’re looking for is turyn, which is what wizards call magical energy. It doesn’t absorb turyn. Demon-steel absorbs kinetic energy and stores it. When it goes beyond a certain point, it radiates that energy as demonic turyn, so the net effect is a conversion of physical energy into a deadly type of magic. As long as it is kept perfectly still, it remains empty, but any motion will gradually increase the turyn stored within it.”

  Blake rubbed his chin. “Walking?”

  He nodded. “It isn’t much, but yes. Once it gets to the point that the metal starts burning, it’s difficult to force more in without hitting it with something really powerful, like a heavy hammer. In fact, that’s how the demons were using this stuff to generate their turyn in Myrsta. They built a device that had something similar to a gong or maybe a bell and then they had a machine that continually pounded on it with a massive striker, continually increasing the turyn stored in it.”

  “Wouldn’t it explode, then? Assuming they kept hitting it?”

  Will shook his head, then clarified, “Yes and no. It would if you kept hitting it hard enough and if you did so faster than it could radiate the energy as flames. In the case of their demonic generator, they used a secondary enchantment with a link to drain and radiate the turyn into the wider environment—until I broke the link. That’s what destroyed so much of Myrsta.”

  Blake wrinkled his nose. “Maybe you should wear the brigandine after all.”

  He clapped his friend on the shoulder. “No, you were right. It’s safe while I’m wearing it. My body naturally absorbs and converts turyn around me, even when I’m unconscious. Unless I’m hit really hard, it won’t even turn black. Honestly, I’ve been stupid not to use it more. Heavy blows barely stagger me with it on, since it absorbs the shock, and I can always use the energy against my enemies afterward.”

  “I’ve heard enough to be glad I’m not a wizard,” said Blake. “Where are you going today, if I’m allowed to ask?”

  He probably shouldn’t have said it, but Will had been alone too long and couldn’t help being slightly dramatic. “To meet some demons.”

  The older man covered his ears, then made a gesture to ward away evil. “Never mind. Wait a second before you leave. I’ll have Jeremy pack you a lunch.” Before Will could protest that he already had enough food stored away, Blake was out of the room.

  Not long after that, Will was skimming across the land on a force-travel disk. Using a force-effect limited his defensive options while in the air, but it was faster and less tiring than the elemental version. Since everyone believed him to be in Cerria assisting the new queen consolidate her rule, he could be somewhat more carefree than he usually was when he knew his enemies were all carefully tracking his movements.

  Using congruence points to travel back and forth to the fae realm would have been faster, but his personal knowledge of their locations was limited, and using a favor would give away his location. Will didn’t know exactly what arrangements the fae had with demonkind, the elves, or even Lognion himself, but information was currency to them. Even if his grandmother wasn’t personally against him, she might very well barter the information with his enemies—as she had probably done multiple times in the past while he carried Arrogan’s ring.

  Arrogan had taught him the first lesson: Never owe the fae anything. Pay for what you received when you received it and accept no debts. Aislinn had continued his education in her own cruel way, punishing his mistakes and inculcating in him the rules for dealing with her kind. Precise language was a must, and every reward was a bittersweet pill, as the fae always had multiple goals. Win or lose, Aislinn would gain more than she lost in any transaction.

  Now, with the lich’s help, he had learned the only way to get ahead in dealing with the fickle fae immortals, which was not to play the game. As much as losing Arrogan’s advice had hurt him, it had finally freed him from his grandmother’s surveillance, limiting how much she could profit from following his movements and selling the information—or using it herself.

  Will continued traveling after the sun went down, only stopping when fatigue and hunger made it apparent that he needed a respite. Jeremy’s packed lunch became supper, since he had just eaten bread and cheese at midday without bothering to stop moving. The food was a delight, for when he unwrapped the cloth tied around the basket, Will found two meat pastries inside. Such food would last a day or two under ordinary conditions, but since he’d stored them in the limnthal, they were almost as good as they’d been fresh out of the oven. Will smiled when he felt the warmth still radiating from them.

  A thick crust surrounded minced lamb and a gravy seasoned with pepper, nutmeg, and coriander. Will considered saving one pie for the next day, but he ate the first so quickly that he discarded that option and ate the second without regret. Afterward, reclining against a tree with a full belly, he addressed the empty air. “Jeremy, you were the best decision I never made.”

  Selene had been the one who forced a hired cook on him despite his objections, and over time, he had gradually come to accept the wisdom of her choice. As if summoned by his reminiscence, his wife appeared before him in ghostly form, reclining sideways as though she were laying on a bed. “Are you camping?” she asked, observing the tree behind him.

  Still feeling the glow of a good meal, Will answered lightly, “I am taking my leisure in the wilderness.”

  She smirked. “I’m glad you’re in good spirits, and that I caught you before sleep. Last night I tried, but you must have had that anti-possession spell on.”

  “I prefer not to go wandering accidentally at night,” he replied. “Most of the time I can’t reach you during the daytime, or Janice, or Tiny for that matter.”

  “Worried?”

  Letting his heart show on his face, Will answered, “Lonely.”

  Her features hardened. “I’m not sure you appreciate the meaning of that word. Try being queen with a lich disguised as your husband beside you.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Will, being sincere, then added, “Is it safe for us to talk like this?” He pointed to his empty ring finger. There was also the fact that being able to astrally connect meant by definition that neither of them was shielded.

  “I’ve stored it safely away,” Selene answered, “and my room is protected in every conceivable way short of putting an actual shield around it. As for you—you barely exist since you started this ruse. I feel privileged to know you, much less to be able to speak to you.” There was heavy sarcasm in her voice.

  She was right, of course. Without the ring, and assuming there were no other beacons or marks on him, no one would be able to find him except the same people he could contact astrally—all of whom he trusted. Except Lognion, he noted mentally. So far as he knew, the dragon hadn’t used that connection to spy on him. He would have noticed if it had happened while he was awake, and as Selene had remarked, he protected himself while sleeping.

  “I love you,” he said suddenly.

  “I still love you too, but don’t think you’re forgiven,” she replied, and after a short pause she added, “yet.” Glancing around, she asked, “A powerful wizard who has mastered the ability to teleport without beacons, and you’re sleeping in the forest. While I don’t mind the thought of you waking up with a sore back, I have to wonder why?”