Queen of the Darkness

good sense to realize you would need to bring your own food and water since you won't be able to trust consuming anything that might be there." He headed for the door. "I'll need a couple more hours. Then we'll go."
    "But—" The look he gave her had her backing down. "A couple of hours," she agreed.
    It wasn't until he was gone that she began to wonder just what it was she had agreed to do.
    Little fool, Daemon thought as he stormed back to Jaenelle's workroom. Idiot. If the kitchen staff hadn't mentioned that Surreal had requested a similar food pack, he wouldn't have known she was planning to go to Hayll, wouldn't have been prepared to deal with her presence. Oh, he could use her help in this game. It hadn't taken him more than a minute to recognize how many ways she could help. But, damn it, if she'd gone in and gotten everyone riled before he arrived... He had to buy Jaenelle seventy-two hours. A straight, clean fight would have gotten the others out, but it wouldn't have done that.
    So he would play out his game—and Surreal would have a chance to dance with the Sadist.
    He walked into the workroom and snarled at Jaenelle, "I'll need a couple more items."
    Her eyes widened when he told her what he wanted, but she didn't say anything except, "I think I'd better give you a Ring that has a shield no one can get through."
    Since he figured both Lucivar and Surreal would want to tear his heart out in a few hours' time, he thought that was an excellent idea.
    The three of them stood outside the room that held the Dark Altar at the Keep.
    Jaenelle hugged Surreal. "May the Darkness embrace you, Sister."
    "We'll get them back," Surreal said, returning the hug. "Count on it." Glancing at Daemon, she went into the Altar's room and quietly closed the door.
    Daemon just looked at Jaenelle, his heart too full to say anything. Besides, words seemed so inadequate at the moment. He brushed a thumb across her cheek, kissed her gently. Then he took a deep breath. "The game begins at midnight."
    "And at midnight, seventy-two hours later, you're going to be riding the Winds back to the Keep in Terreille. No stops, no delays." She paused, waited for him to nod agreement, then added, "Don't ride any Wind darker than the Red. The others will be unstable."
    It took effort to keep his jaw from dropping. A strong witch storm could create a disturbance on part of the psychic roadways through the Darkness, could even throw someone off the Web to be lost in the Darkness, but "unstable" sounded much, much worse.
    "All right," he finally said. "We'll stay on the Red."
    "Daemon," Jaenelle said softly, "I want you to promise me something."
    "Anything."
    Her eyes filled with tears. It took her a moment to regain control. "Thirteen years ago, you gave everything you had in order to help me."
    "And I'll give you everything again," he replied just as softly.
    She shook her head fiercely. "No. No more sacrifices, Daemon. Not from you. That's what I want you to promise me." She swallowed hard. "The Keep is going to be the only safe place. I want your promise that, at the appointed hour, you'll be on your way there. No matter who you have to walk away from, no matter who you have to leave behind, you must get to the Keep before dawn. Promise me, Daemon." She gripped his arm hard enough to hurt. "I have to know you'll be safe. Promise me."
    Gently, he removed her hand, then raised it to place a kiss in her palm—and smiled. "I'm not going to do anything that will make me late for my own wedding."
    Pain flashed in her eyes, making him wonder if she really wanted to marry him. No. He wouldn't begin to doubt, couldn't afford to doubt. "I'll come back to you," he said. "I swear it."
    She gave him a brief, fierce kiss. "See that you do."
    She looked pale and exhausted. There were dark smudges under her eyes. She had never looked more beautiful to him.
    "I'll see you in a few days."
    "Good-bye, Daemon. I love you."
    As he approached the Dark Altar that was a Gate between the Realms, he didn't find Jaenelle's last words reassuring.
----
    22 / Kaeleer
    Karla eased herself into a chair in Jaenelle's sitting room. She could use Craft to float herself from place to place, and could even stand on her own now for a little while with the help of two canes. But channeling power through her body left her quickly exhausted, and standing made her legs ache. Still, the daily cup of Jaenelle's tonic was working. But she had an uneasy feeling she would need her strength