Emerald looked annoyed with him, but she didn’t offer any.

  “Good.” He gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for keeping me grounded. While I think this is the best way to find Ivy available to us, I do appreciate your counsel.”

  Emerald sighed. “At least you’re not boring. I’ll give you that. Fine. Let’s stroll through the endless maze with the devil mage. I’m sure nothing could possibly go wrong.”

  Trent looked at Spike. “You have a deal. Ten minutes, attached. Take me to Ivy.”

  Spike inclined his head. “Our deal is struck.”

  To Trent’s amazement, the walls and mist immediately disappeared. He stood now on a wide featureless plain beneath a dead gray sky. As he gawked around at what was obviously not a maze, he saw the distant forms of vacant-eyed souls wandering both near and far.

  He glanced at Spike. “What just happened?”

  “Our souls are linked. You can now see the Firmament as I do.”

  This alliance was proving more useful by the moment. “All right, then. Lead the way.”

  Spike walked off. Trent walked with him. Emerald took two steps, then called out in annoyance. “Hey! Come back!”

  Trent paused and glanced back at her. “What do you mean?”

  “You just walked through a wall, genius! Could you not?”

  Trent blinked, then looked at Spike. “She still sees the maze?”

  Spike nodded his helmet. “I cannot offer her my reality. Not without joining my soul to hers, which I cannot, since our affinities do not match.”

  Another aspect of this strange deal, and the reason why Spike had not offered such a deal to anyone else before now, abruptly became clear to Trent. “That’s why you can join your soul with mine. Because we both have an affinity for chaos ether.”

  “Yes. Those who control this morass were very cautious never to send me the soul of a chaos mage. Either that, or we have become so rare, there simply aren’t any living chaos mages anymore.”

  Trent walked back to Emerald. Her eyes remained on something he couldn’t see until she abruptly focused on him as he reached her.

  She glared at him in annoyance. “Don’t do that again!”

  “I didn’t mean to, but listen. There’s no actual wall here.”

  “Oh, there isn’t?” Emerald raised her palms and flattened them on a surface he couldn’t see. “It sure feels real to me.”

  Trent stared at the way the flesh of her palms compressed against air. They truly were seeing... no, standing... in two separate realities. He considered turning her into a bow once more, but what if the disconnect persisted even in that form? He could hurt her.

  He offered Emerald his hand. “Take my hand.”

  She looked down at his hand. “Seriously? That’s your plan? Handholding?”

  “Do you have a better one? Close your eyes and I’ll lead you through the wall.”

  “Or you’ll slam my face into it.”

  “Your call. We can also try turning you back into a bow, and I can carry you.”

  “You know...” She huffed, then snatched his hand. “Fine. We’ll try it.”

  Trent gave her hand a comforting squeeze. “You should close your eyes. If you don’t see the wall, you won’t know where the wall is. That way, you can’t bump into it.”

  “That...” Emerald closed her eyes. “Actually makes an odd sort of sense. Fine.”

  “An odd sort of sense absolutely describes the Firmament. Now, follow me.”

  With her eyes tightly closed, Trent led Emerald away from the wall he couldn’t see. He guided the curvy, dark-haired woman back and forth until he hoped she had no idea where the wall she remembered was in relation to her. He then took her back to Spike.

  She kept her eyes tightly closed. “Can we go through the wall already?”

  “We walked through what you thought was a wall a moment ago.”

  Her eyes popped open, and she gawked past him at Spike, who had stood waiting patiently through the whole ritual. She looked around in amazement.

  “That’s some trick.”

  “You see the plane now?”

  “Yes. No more... you know, I’m not even going to say the word for fear it might manifest itself anew. Yes. I see the plane. Now let’s go find Ivy before that changes.”

  As Trent walked, he relaxed his grip on Emerald’s hand. She tightened her grip around his and didn’t let go, which was flattering. Ruby spoke up in his mind.

  “Master, is that Emerald? Are you holding Emerald’s hand?”

  “Yes. I’m guiding her.”

  “Oh, that must be so nice for her! Thank you for keeping her safe.”

  As Emerald continued to tightly clutch his hand in a way that suggested she was less confident than she appeared, Trent swept the crowd of distant souls for anyone resembling Ivy.

  “That’s my job, Ruby. Let me know if you sense any other devil mages.”

  “Yes, Master! So far, I only feel the one. You’ve made friends with him?”

  “We’ve come to an agreement. Short term. I’ll tell you if that changes.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  Spike turned and strode off. “Your fiancé is this way.”

  Trent had already offered the devil his trust. If he slammed face first into an invisible wall, that would be exactly the sort of reward such a choice merited.

  As they strode across the plane and Trent watched people he didn’t recognize stumble about as if in a daze, he felt a pang of empathy for them. Whoever they had been, good or evil, they didn’t deserve this.

  He glanced sidelong at Spike. “These people truly can’t escape?”

  Spike continued onward. “These souls cannot. For most, their mortal bodies have wasted away. There is no release from this place. I would help them if I could.”

  “You mean destroy them.”

  “Yes. I would not wish wandering this eternity upon my worst enemy.”

  Spike meant that. He was telling the truth. He really did seek to destroy the souls of people, not out of malice, but to end what, for them, was an endless limbo. That made Trent more inclined to trust this so-called “blade mage,” even if he had once worked for Martinus.

  Tallun was a monster. Good Dalry soldiers still fought for him out of loyalty to their nation and crown. Martinus had been a monster as well. It was possible that some good soldiers had fought for him, too, at least until the truth about him became widely known.

  He followed Spike as the shadows of souls long banished to this inescapable place stumbled about, walked aimlessly, or simply sat propped up against walls he couldn’t see. They were listless, like they had lost all hope.

  Trent wanted to help them, yet he couldn’t. If Spike was right, and Trent was growing increasingly certain he was, there were no bodies waiting for them back in the real world. He wondered if any of these souls had lived at Stonehew Academy or in Corrin.

  And then... he recognized one.

  Trent stopped so abruptly, Emerald nearly stumbled. “Gods. It’s Tallun.”

  Emerald’s hand tightened on his own. “You’re certain?”

  “Yes. I met him...” Trent caught himself. “I met his body at a nobleman’s birthday party in Whitebridge. He’s here. They cast his soul into this morass.”

  Emerald squeezed his hand. “Didn’t he frame you for the murder of his daughter?”

  “I thought so once. Now, I’m not so sure.” He looked at Spike. “I must speak to him.”

  Spike stopped. “I must lead you to your fiancé. Those were the terms of our deal.”

  “I’m amending the deal. Let me speak to Tallun first. We will suspend the ten minute agreement until I conclude my conversation with him, which I will do in... five minutes or less.”

  Spike thought about that, then nodded. “Very well.”

  Trent was surprised the devil mage was being so accommodating, yet why wouldn’t he be? Spike had been stuck in this morass for three centuries. What was five more minutes when the promise of escape... of dissolution... was so close at hand?

  Trent led the way, with Emerald tightly clutching his hand. Spike walked alongside them. Tallun was one of those who was sitting against an invisible wall without moving, at least until Trent walked out through whatever obstruction Tallun saw. The false king looked up.

  He smiled wanly. “Strange dream. Who are you supposed to be?”

  “I’m not a dream. Do you know who I am, Tallun?”

  “King Tallun.” The man laughed, a lost, sad laugh. “What has the world come to when my own hallucinations won’t even address me by my title?”

  “You truly don’t recognize me?”

  “Should I?” Tallun peered at him in curiosity, then rose. “We’ve never met.”

  “You poisoned your wife. Queen Agnes died at your hand.”

  Tallun nodded miserably and sat back down. “So I’m punishing myself. Again.”

  “You think you don’t deserve punishment for what you did?”

  “No, I do. You’re quite correct. You’re simply too late. I long ago decided never to forgive myself for what I did to Agnes, even though it was the only way to save my realm from the devil lord who corrupted her soul. If you wish to berate me, please. Do so.”

  Trent watched Tallun for any signs of deception, but the man truly seemed despondent. If he hadn’t been himself when he tried to murder his daughter and framed Trent, Tallun must have been here for almost a year or longer. This man hadn’t framed him.

  He also, quite possibly, hadn’t tried to murder his daughter. He even thought that by poisoning his wife, he had been saving Dalry. If Trent could verify that Tallun had done all his bad deeds for a good reason, it wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t absolve Tallun.

  But Princess Victoria might sleep a great deal better.

  Chapter Twenty

  Trent decided to place all his cards on the table in this interrogation. The longer he tarried here talking with Tallun’s soul, the longer Princess Ivy’s soul would wander this maze without hope. He didn’t want Ivy to endure that hell one second longer than necessary.

  He wouldn’t get another chance to interrogate the traitorous king of Dalry. Princess Ivy would understand why he had made a detour. Princess Victoria would as well.

  “My name is Trent Marston, Highness. I’m a queen’s kestrel in the service of Dalry.”

  Tallun snorted. “Of course you are.”

  “I work for your daughter. Princess Victoria lives. She will reclaim the crown you stole.”

  Now Tallun’s interest was piqued once more. “Of course she lives. I ensured that when I made my deal. With the corruption gone, Victoria will lead Dalry to a bright future. That is why...” He swallowed as if remembering some great tragedy. “Why it was worth it, in the end.”

  “She won’t lead Dalry without help. Not after you tried to assassinate her, stole her throne, and chased her out of Whitebridge after telling everyone I’d murdered her.”

  Tallun’s eyes widened, and then he glowered. “Enough.” His hand reflexively went to his back to pull out a sword that was no longer there.

  Trent almost reached for Ruby, but held himself back. “The devil mages to whom you foolishly sold your soul... the mages who fooled you into viciously poisoning your wife... tried to assassinate your daughter in Whitebridge half a year ago. I saved her.”

  “That’s a lie, and I know it’s a lie. Lord Adon promised me...” Tallun trailed off and scowled. “Enough of this. Begone, figment. I have no use for you.”

  Trent glanced at Spike. “How long have I got left?”

  The armored blade mage shrugged. “Would you like more time? I’m not opposed.”

  “We’ll see. Thank you.” Trent turned back to Tallun once more. “Whatever deal Lord Adon made with you, he deceived you. Your wife wasn’t corrupted. She was advised by Lord Belgor, but never sold her soul. And your daughter? The devil mage inside you tried to kill her.”

  “Nonsense. Begone.” Tallun settled once more against a wall Trent couldn’t see. The man ignored him. He looked at his hands, which Trent now saw were covered in blood.

  His wife’s blood. Trent knew that somehow. Tallun was torturing himself, which was a waste of both his time and Trent’s.

  He considered how best to break through the walls of despair and hopelessness the once great king of Dalry had erected around himself. A blunt route would be best. He would appeal to whatever love the man still had for his daughter.

  “Princess Victoria wants to forgive you for everything you did. Even her mother’s death.”

  Tallun ground his teeth. “I said, leave me!”

  “Even after the devil mage in your body tried to assassinate her, even after she learned you poisoned her mother, the daughter you left behind still wants to forgive you, Tallun. She still loves you, despite the fact that you destroyed her life. You owe her an explanation. Why did you do it? Why did you betray Dalry?”

  Tallun’s gaze rose hatefully. “I said that was enough.”

  “What deal did Lord Adon make with you? What deal could be enough to be worth your soul, the life of your wife, and the death of your daughter?”

  “Lord Adon assured me the war with Corrin would end forever! My people, Dalry and Hesia’s people, would live in peace! Even Corrin would embrace a golden age!”

  “A golden age of human rule? Or rule by devil mages?”

  Tallun opened his mouth to shout at Trent, then paused as shock registered on his face.

  Trent felt increasingly disgusted by someone being fooled by such a simple ploy. “Did you ask? Did you actually ask him? Did you insist that Lord Adon bring peace and have our nations ruled by humans?”

  “Of course I did! Our deal was that my daughter would rule Dalry, Hesia, and Corrin. My human daughter. Victoria would usher in a golden age for humanity.”

  “And did you specify that your human daughter actually had to be Victoria? That your daughter’s soul needed to remain in her body? Or did you simply assume she would?”

  Again, shock registered on Tallun’s face, but this time, it didn’t go away. He stared at Trent as horror overtook his features, then stepped back. He paled and trembled.

  “No. Gods, no. It’s a trick. It’s all a trick!”

  Emerald slapped a palm to her head. “Gods, what a moron. Have I ever told you my opinion about kings and queens? It’s not a very good one.”

  Tallun’s eyes went distant as he likely desperately searched his memories for any point when he had ensured Lord Adon couldn’t exploit the loophole Trent had just casually revealed. Even his tortuous new reality looked to be crumbling in upon itself. He was losing his mind.

  “He promised all realms would be at peace. That Victoria would rule them justly. A devil mage cannot lie!”

  Trent scowled. “But they can tell you things you easily misunderstand. Like that a devil mage will possess your daughter’s body, and rule all enslaved human lands through her shell.”

  Tallun groaned piteously and collapsed back on his invisible wall. Trent expected him to start sobbing. To his credit, he didn’t. Yet, as he visibly sank into himself, Trent wondered if he had gone too far. If he had broken the man.

  Karl Tallun was a fool and a murderer, but even he didn’t deserve to wander endlessly, consumed by grief. Trent also didn’t want to deliver such news to Victoria. He didn’t want to break her, too, and knowing her as he did... this news might destroy her.

  Trent knelt in front of the foolish and now tragic king. “Your daughter lives.”

  Tallun’s gaze remained far away.

  “I saved her, Tallun. I also gathered an army for her, and our strength grows every day. The deal you made with Lord Adon won’t succeed, because we won’t let it. We’ll destroy the body you carelessly surrendered, return your daughter to the throne, and stop his plot.”

  Tallun’s gaze met Trent’s again, and he smiled weakly. “I really have gone insane, haven’t I?”

  “I can’t answer that. I can tell you that I’m real, and the words I speak are true. Now tell me exactly the deal Lord Adon made with you. Word for word.”

  Tallun took a breath. “Offer me your soul and I will end the war with Corrin. Your nations and theirs will stand united in a peaceful world, free of war and want. The new empire of nations will all be ruled by your daughter, Princess Victoria.”

  Trent frowned, then looked up at Emerald. “Belgor lied to me.”

  Emerald blinked. “What? How?”

  “In the vision he sent me the night that death mage and those soulless infiltrated Dalry and murdered Princess Victoria’s Queen’s Guard, I saw Victoria murdered and raised by that necromancer. I thought it was a vision of the future, but Lord Belgor later explained what I saw was only what he believed would happen.” Trent ground his teeth. “He played me for a fool.”

  As Trent thought back to the only time he had spoken to Lord Belgor face to face, the first time he had entered the Firmament in his dreams with Revca along for the ride, Lord Belgor’s deception became clear. He remembered the question he had asked over tea.

  “Why send me prophetic dreams? And am I seeing the future, or just what you wish me to see? Given knowing the future suggests I’ve changed it, I’ve always wondered what happened to the old future. Did I truly change the course of the realm?”

  The deceptively pleasant man sitting across from him—Lord Belgor—smiled benignly. “The answer lies between. You did not actually visit the future in your dreams, merely one possible future that I devised based on knowledge gathered from my scrying, my servants, and my understanding of your world. In short, I showed you what I believed would happen.”

  Belgor hadn’t lied. Devils couldn’t lie. But Belgor had told a truth he knew Trent would misinterpret, and Trent had been too overwhelmed by the situation to catch it at the time. He remembered the last question he’d asked Belgor before the man departed from the Firmament.

  “Since the dreams you send me are how you believe the future may play out, and you’ve made clear you sent those dreams in hopes of guiding me toward your designs, would you ever send false dreams to manipulate me?”