Heir to the Shadows

a knife just then. You deserve to be gutted for this! Jealous old man. Beast! Couldn't you let her enjoy an innocent romance without tearing her apart out of spite?"
    Finally able to catch his breath, Saetan propped himself up on one elbow. "Witch doesn't become cildru dyathe, Titian," he said coldly. "Witch doesn't become one of the demon-dead. So tell me which you prefer: that I say she walks among the cildru dyathe, or that I leave a vulnerable young girl open to further enemy attacks?"
    Titian stopped, an arrested look in her large blue eyes. She leaned over Saetan, searching his face. "Witch can't become demon-dead?"
    "No. But you and Char are the only others in Hell who know that."
    "I suppose," she said slowly, "that the most convincing way to fool an enemy would be to fool a friend." She considered this for a moment more and offered him a hand up. She retrieved his cane and looked him in the eye. "A Harpy is a Harpy because of the way she died. That made it easy to believe the rumors."
    That was more of an apology than he'd thought to get from Titian.
    Saetan took the cane from her, grateful for the support. "I'll tell you the same thing I told Char," he said. "If you're still a friend and want to help, there is something you can do."
    "What is that, High Lord?"
    "Stay angry."
    A fire kindled in Titian's eyes. A smile brushed her lips and was gone. "An arrow that just misses would be highly convincing."
    Saetan raised one eyebrow and clucked his tongue. "A Dea al Mon witch missing a target?"
    Titian shrugged. "Even the Dea al Mon don't always succeed."
    "Just in case you miss missing, try not to aim for anything terribly vital," Saetan said dryly.
    Titian blinked. The smile brushed her lips again. "There's only one part of a male's anatomy a Harpy aims for, High Lord. How terribly vital do you consider it?"
    "Go," Saetan said.
    Titian bowed and left.
    Saetan stared at the study door for a moment before limping to a chair. He sank into it with a sigh, stretching out his legs. A minute later he left the study, making his way through the corridors to the upper rooms in the Hall, hoping Mephis or Andulvar would be around.
    He wanted company. Male company.
    Having Titian for a friend didn't make a man feel comfortable.

3 / Terreille
     
    In the moonlight, the lawn was a ghostly silver rippled by the wind. Throughout the hot midsummer's day, storm clouds had been piling up on the horizon, and thunder had rumbled in the distance.
    Surreal buttoned her jacket and hugged herself for warmth. The air had turned cold. An hour from now the storm would break over Beldon Mor. But she would be back at Deje's Red Moon house by then, the guest of honor at her quiet retirement dinner.
    After that night at Cassandra's Altar, she had discovered that she no longer had the stomach for playing the bed, not even when it would have made a kill easier. She wouldn't starve if she gave up whoring. Lord Marcus, Sadi's man of business, also handled her investments and handled them well. Besides, she'd always preferred being an assassin to being a whore.
    Surreal shook her head. She could think about that later.
    Moving silently through the small shrub garden that backed the lawn, she reached the large tree with the branch that was perfect for a swing. Something hung from that branch, but it wasn't a child's toy.
    Surreal looked up, trying to feel the ghostly presence, trying to see the transparent shape.
    "You won't find her," a girl's voice said. "Marjane is gone."
    Surreal spun around and stared at the girl with the slit throat and bloody dress. She'd met Rose seven months ago when Jaenelle had shown her Briarwood's awful secret. The next night, she and Rose had gotten Jaenelle out of Briarwood, but too late to stop the vicious rape.
    "What happened to her?" Surreal said, glancing toward the tree. A silly thing to ask about a girl long dead.
    Rose shrugged. "She faded. All the old ghosts have finally returned to the Darkness." She studied Surreal. "Why are you here?"
    Surreal took a deep breath. "I came to say good-bye. I'm leaving Chaillot in the morning—and I'm not coming back."
    Rose thought about this. "If you hold my hand, maybe you'll be able to see Dannie. I don't know how Jaenelle always saw the ghosts. Even after I became a demon, I couldn't see the oldest ones unless she was here. She said that was because this was one of the living Realms."
    Surreal took Rose's hand. They walked toward the vegetable garden.
    "Is Jaenelle