Tangled Webs

house. Which means the more Blood in this place, the less chance we have of finding a way out while there still is a way out.»
    «Agreed,» Rainier said. «What are you suggesting?»
    She handed the note to him. «That we not play the game and try a direct approach for getting out of here.»
    Returning to the hall, she opened the front door. Still had solid brick behind it. But brick was no match for a punch of Gray power.
    Turning inward, she made a fast descent in the abyss until she reached her inner web and the full power of her Gray Jewels. Then she turned and rose like an arrow of psychic power released from a bow.
    She raised her right hand, aiming it at the bricks framed by the doorway. The Gray Jewel in her ring flashed as she unleashed a punch of power that would blow out the whole damn wall.
    Or should have.
    She stared at the undamaged bricks. Then she heard an odd crackle. A sizzle.
    “Surreal!”
    No time to reply. Some kind of webbing suddenly wrapped around her head and torso. She couldn’t see it. Her fingers couldn’t feel it. But it felt like a web made out of lightning and wire that passed through her skin and tightened until it squeezed her lungs, closed her throat.
    Her heart thundered in her ears as she fought to breathe, fought to stay alive.
    “Surreal!”
    Rainier’s arms around her.
    She heard him snarl in frustrated rage. Heard a door slam. Or maybe that was her heart.
    Then she heard the gong.
    Suddenly the webbing was gone and she could breathe again.
    “Mother Night,” she gasped.
    “Are you all right?” he asked.
    No. “Not sure.” Shit shit shit. That hurt.
    “What happened?”
    She was on the floor. Didn’t remember going down. Since Rainier was being so obliging about propping her up, she leaned against him.
    “Backlash,” she said, wincing when she swallowed. “There must be spells that have formed a cage around this place. I punched them when I tried to open the wall. They punched back.”
    She tried to get up—and wasn’t happy that she needed Rainier’s help.
    «If Sadi and Yaslana were invited, then this cage was designed to hold the Black and Ebon-gray,» Rainier said.
    «Yeah.» And that wasn’t good news for her or Rainier.
    “Come back into the sitting room,” he said, leading her to the room. “You should sit down.”
    “I’m all right.” Had to be. “I don’t need to sit down.” More to the point, she didn’t want to find out she was too shaky to get up by herself if she did sit down.
    «Looks like we’re going to play the game,» Rainier said. «The only way out is to find one of those exits.»
    Surreal nodded. «But first, we have to find a way to warn the others before they walk into this place. Then we get us and the children out of here.»
    «Without using Craft.»
    «Without using Craft.»
    Rainier hesitated. «Do you think Jaenelle and Marian did this?»
    «Doesn’t matter at this point, does it?»

    Everything has a price. That was a common saying among the Blood. Everything has a price.
    And the price for trying to leave his game by cheating was pain.
    The caging spell had worked exactly as he’d been told it would, using the witch’s power against herself to inflict a great deal of pain.
    But not enough physical damage to take Surreal out of the game.
    Unfortunately, the caging spell wasn’t as effective if it was challenged a second time, but that was why the pain was so vicious—to discourage anyone from trying to break through the spell a second time.
    Why were Surreal and Rainier just standing there? Why weren’t they doing anything? They had the first clue. Had the only clue.
    He’d debated giving them even that much, but it seemed necessary. If his character Landry Langston was going to get ensnared by a house that would tighten the trap every time he used his newly learned Craft skills, he had to have a chance to escape the danger—and readers had to be aware of the danger.
    Besides, having the gong sound every time one of them used Craft meant none of them could deny using it—and, by using it, taking away another chance for all of them to escape.
    But why…?
    Damn! They were using those psychic threads to talk to each other! He hadn’t thought of that. Hadn’t done anything to penalize them for doing that. How was he supposed to make notes for dialogue if he couldn’t hear what they were saying?
    No matter. He was betting the Surreal bitch and her stud would have plenty to say once they started seeing his