Heir to the Shadows

come a few months ago.
    "I don't know where he is," Surreal said.
    "But you can look for him. I can stay in this form only three days out of the month. He's running out of time, Surreal. If he isn't shown the road back soon, there won't be anything left of him."
    Surreal closed her eyes. Shit.
    Jaenelle poured the rest of the brew into Surreal's cup. "Even a Gray-Jeweled witch's moontime shouldn't give her this much pain."
    Surreal shifted. Winced. "I suppressed last month's time." She wrapped her hands around the cup. "Daemon lived with me for a little while. Until a few months ago."
    "What happened a few months ago?"
    "Kartane SaDiablo happened," Surreal said viciously. Then she smiled. "Your spell or web or whatever it was you spun around Briarwood's uncles did a good job on him. You wouldn't even recognize the bastard." She paused. "Robert Benedict is dead, by the way."
    "How unfortunate," Jaenelle murmured, her voice dripping yenom. "And dear Dr. Carvay?"
    "Alive, more or less. Not for much longer from what I've heard."
     
    "Tell me about Kartane . . . and Daemon."
    "Last spring, Daemon showed up at the flat where I was living. Our paths have crossed a few times since—" Surreal faltered.
    "Since the night at Cassandra's Altar."
    "Yes. He's like Tersa used to be. Show up, stay a couple of days, and vanish again. This time he stayed. Then Kartane showed up." Surreal drained her cup. "Apparently he's been hunting for Daemon for some time, but, unlike Dorothea, he seems to have a better idea of where to look. He started demanding that Daemon help him get free of this terrible spell someone had put on him. As if he'd never done anything to deserve it. When it became apparent that Daemon was lost in the Twisted Kingdom and, therefore, useless, Kartane looked at me—and noticed my ears. At the same moment he realized I was Titian's child—and his—Daemon exploded and threw him out.
    "I guess he figured that bringing Sadi to Dorothea wouldn't buy him enough help, but bringing Dorothea his only possible offspring would be a solid bargaining chip. And a female offspring who could continue the bloodline would provide strong incentive—even if she was a half-breed.
    "Daemon insisted that we leave immediately because Kartane would return after dark with guards. And he did.
    "Before Daemon and I caught the Wind and headed out, we had agreed on a city in another Territory. He was right behind me, riding close. And then he wasn't there anymore. I haven't seen him since."
    "And you've been running since then."
    "Yeah." She felt so tired. She wanted to lose herself in a book, in sleep. Too much of a risk now. The rest of the Hayllian guards would start wondering about those four men, would start looking soon.
    "Eat your food, Surreal."
    Surreal bit into the folded bread and finally wondered why she hadn't tested that brew—and wondered why "she didn't care.
    Jaenelle checked the bedroom, then studied the worn
    sofa in the living area. "Do you want to tuck up in bed or curl up here?"
    "Can't," Surreal mumbled, annoyed because she was going to cry.
    "Yes, you can." Taking comforters and pillows from the bedroom, Jaenelle turned the sofa into an inviting nest. "I can stay two more days. No one will disturb you while I'm here."
    __ "I'll help you search," Surreal said, snuggling into the sofa.
    "I know." Jaenelle smiled dryly. "You're Titian's daughter. You wouldn't do anything else."
    "Don't know if I like being that predictable," Surreal grumbled.
    Jaenelle made another cup of the healing brew, gave Surreal first choice of two new novels, and settled into a chair.
    Surreal drank her brew, read the first page of the novel twice, and gave up. Looking at Jaenelle, questions buzzed inside her head.
    She didn't want to hear the answers to any of them.
    For now, it was enough that, once they found Daemon, Jaenelle would bring him out of the Twisted Kingdom.
    For now, it was enough to feel safe.
    PART IV
    CHAPTER THIRTEEN
    1 / Kaeleer
    Ccopring is the season of romance," Hekatah said, watching her companion. "And she's eighteen now. Old enough to enjoy a husband."
    "True." Lord Jorval traced little circles on the scarred table. "But selecting the right husband is important."
    "All he needs to be is young, handsome, and virile— and capable of obeying orders," Hekatah snapped. "The husband will merely be the sexual bait that will lure her away from that monster. Or do you want to live under the High Lord's thumb, once his