Queen of the Darkness

sank to the floor. "Mother Night," she whispered.
    "Jaenelle didn't want a court, didn't want to rule. The only reason she became the Queen of Ebon Askavi was to stop the Terreilleans who were coming into the kindred Territories and slaughtering the kindred. Do you really think a woman who would do those things has spent the past three weeks wringing her hands and hoping this will all go away? I don't. She needs us here for a reason—and she'll tell us when it's time to tell us." Karla paused. "And I'll tell you one other thing, just between us: sometimes a friend must become an enemy in order to remain a friend."
    Karla was talking about Daemon. Surreal thought for a moment, then shook her head. "The way he's been acting—"
    "Daemon Sadi is totally committed to Witch. Whatever he does, he does for her."
    "You don't know that."
    "Don't I?" Karla said too softly.
    Black Widow. The words bloomed in Surreal's mind until there wasn't room for anything else. Black Widow. Maybe Karla wasn't indifferent to what was happening. Maybe she had seen something in a tangled web. "Are you sure about Sadi?"
    "No," Karla replied. "But I'm willing to consider the possibility that what he says in public may be very different from what he does in private."
    Surreal raked her fingers through her hair. "Well, Hell's fire, if Daemon and Jaenelle were planning something, they could at least tell the court."
    "I was poisoned by a member of my court," Karla said quietly. "And let's not forget Jaenelle's grandmother, because I'm sure Jaenelle hasn't. So tell me, Surreal, if you were trying to find a way to totally destroy those two bitches, who would you trust?"
    "She could have trusted the High Lord."
    "And where is he right now?" Karla asked.
    Surreal didn't say anything, since they both knew the answer.
----
    20 / Terreille
    "I think it's time to let Jaenelle know you're here," Hekatah said, circling behind Saetan. "I think we should send a little gift."
    He felt her grab the little finger of his left hand. He felt the knife cut through skin and bone. And he felt rage when she dropped to her knees and clamped her mouth over the wound to drink his blood. A Guardian's blood.
    Gathering his strength, he sent a blast of heat down his arm, psychic fire that cauterized the wound. Hekatah jerked away from him, screaming. While he had the chance, he used a little healing Craft to cleanse the wound and seal up the flesh enough to keep infection at bay.
    Hekatah kept screaming. Dorothea rushed out of her cabin. Guards came running from every direction.
    Finally the screaming stopped. He heard Hekatah scrabble for something on the ground, then slowly get to her feet. As she circled around him, he saw what the blast of power had done. Since her mouth had been clamped on the wound, the psychic fire had kept going after it cauterized the blood vessels. It had melted part of her jaw, grotesquely reshaping her face.
    In one hand, she held his little finger. In the other, she held the knife. "You're going to pay for that," she said in a slurred voice.
    "No," Dorothea said, stepping forward. "You said yourself that we have to keep the damage to a minimum until Jaenelle is contained."
    Hekatah turned toward Dorothea. Saetan felt sure the sick revulsion on Dorothea's face would drive Hekatah past any ability to think rationally.
    "Until Jaenelle is contained," Hekatah said with effort. "But... that doesn't mean ... he can't pay." Turning toward him, she raised her hand.
    For the second time, the agony from the Ring of Obedience ripped through him. That was devastating enough. Hearing Lucivar's pain-filled, but still enraged, war cry as Hekatah also punished the son for the deeds of the father produced an agony in him that cut far deeper.
----
    21 / Kaeleer
    Daemon wished Surreal hadn't been around when Geoffrey brought the small, ornately carved box that had been delivered to the Keep in Terreille. He had suggested that, since the verbal message had said it was a "gift" for Jaenelle, Surreal’s presence wasn't required. She had countered by saying she was family and had just as much right to know what was going on as he or Jaenelle did. Which, unfortunately, was true.
    "Do you want me to open it?" he asked Jaenelle when she had just stood there staring at the box for several minutes.
    "No," she said too calmly. Using Craft, she flipped the lid off the box.
    The three of them stared at the little finger nestled in a bed of silk—a little finger with a long,