Dreams Made Flesh

nothing.*
    "How can you say that? It is a loss!" Saetan raked his fingers through his hair. "If I broke my Black Jewel, broke my power back to the Red, I would adjust. I would have to relearn some things, but I would adjust, like a person who loses a limb adjusts to the loss. But I would always remember what I had."
    *That iss you. That iss not Jaenelle.*
    "Who had even more to lose!"
    *Who grievess the losss, High Lord?* Lorn snapped. *You or Jaenelle?*
    Stung, Saetan took a step back, straining to hold his temper. "Are you saying I'm selfish because I want her to be everything she was? That Daemon and Lucivar and the coven and the boyos are selfish because we regret what she lost in order to save us and Kaeleer?"
    The chamber grew cold. *The kindred undersstand. But they ssee ssome thingss more clearly than humanss do.*
    They stared at each other, anger and frustration swelling on both sides.
    Then Lorn sighed. *Look up, Ssaetan.*
    Reluctantly, he obeyed.
    The torches lit the lower part of the chamber, but where the light began to fade, he saw the colors of twilight…rose and bright blue deepening to sapphire and red and dark lavender, which gave way to night black.
    *Twilight'ss Dawn,* Lorn said softly. He closed his eyes, a clear sign of dismissal.
    More frustrated and uncertain than when he entered the chamber, Saetan walked back to the double doors. As he reached them, Lorn said, *Look with your heart, Ssaetan.You already know the ansswerss.*
    But he didn't. He didn't. And it was clear Lorn wouldn't tell him anything more.
    The kindred understood? Maybe it was because they had seen something he hadn't.
    It was dangerous, but there was one other place he could look for answers, one other… person… he could ask.
    Not giving himself time to consider what might happen if things went wrong, he left the Keep, caught the Black Wind, and headed for the island ruled by the Weavers of Dreams.
    4
    "Well," Surreal said cheerfully, "look who's back among the living. Not that you actually are among the living anymore, but why quibble?" Looking down at the Warlord on the floor, she bared her teeth in an insincere smile. "At any rate, your brain is working again…at least as much as it ever did."
    "Bitch," the Warlord snarled. "Right on the first guess."
    Struggling to sit up, the Warlord got a good look at his naked torso. "You filthy bitch! You cut off my cock!"
    "And your balls. Not to mention your arms and legs. So relax, sugar. You're not going anywhere just yet."
    Using Craft, Surreal lifted a chair and settled it near the Warlord. "And just so there's no further misunderstandings, the Green are my Birthright." She tapped the Jewel hanging from a gold chain around her neck. "I wear the Gray."
    His Sapphire Jewel glowed as he tried to strike her with a bolt of power. She slapped the power back at him with interest…and heard his rib cage snap in several places.
    He lay still, taking shallow breaths. Being demon-dead, he didn't actually need to breathe, but she imagined it took a little while for the brain to stop trying to do what it had once needed to do.
    Sitting in the chair, she leaned forward, resting her arms on her thighs. "Here are your choices.You can tell me everything you know about why I ended up here, and in return, I'll finish the kill, freeing you from what's left of a dead body." He started swearing.
    "Or," she continued, raising her voice to compete with his, "I can haul your sorry carcass up to the Keep, dump you on the High Lord's desk, and tell him you not only abducted his niece, you also worked for the bitch who tried to physically harm his daughter and ruin his son's reputation. You can imagine how well Uncle Saetan is going to respond to that."
    He probably would have paled if he was still capable of doing that.
    "Un…Uncle Saetan?"
    You really weren't paying attention to much beyond your fee, were you? "Prince of the Darkness. High Lord of Hell. Patriarch of the SaDiablo family. Since he has over fifty thousand years of experience in ruling the Dark Realm, your being demon-dead isn't going to get in his way when it comes to hurting you. So who are you going to talk to, sugar? Me or Uncle Saetan?"
    I wanted information about the bitch who hired him, not his life story, Surreal thought an hour later. Still, given his choices, she appreciated why the Warlord had wanted to be thorough.
    She'd finished the kill as she'd promised, burning out what was left of his power and freeing his spirit to