Tangled Webs

about to knock again when Allista opened the door. “Prince Sadi.”
    “Good evening, Lady Allista. I need to speak with Tersa.”
    Allista hesitated. “We were just about to have dinner. It’s easier for her if I serve it at the same time each evening. Can this wait?”
    Daemon stepped inside the cottage, forcing Allista to yield. “No, it can’t. Ask her—”
    “It’s the boy.” Tersa hurried toward him, her voice and face full of her pleasure at seeing him.
    He was about to kill that pleasure. But he kissed her cheek and said, “Darling, we have to talk.”
    “It’s time for dinner. No nutcakes until after dinner. Although…I think there is something chocolate for the sweet tonight.” A distant look came into her eyes, as if she were about to follow a path only she could find.
    “Tersa.” He put enough bite in his voice to pull her attention back to him. “We need to talk. It’s important.” He took her arm and tried to lead her into the parlor.
    “But…” Tersa pulled back, resisting. “Dinner is ready. We should eat dinner now.”
    “Prince,” Allista protested. “Can’t this—”
    “Tersa!” Daemon snapped. “Surreal is in trouble. I need your help.”
    She cringed in response to his anger. Then she changed, and he saw a chilling lucidity in her eyes. He’d seen that look before. It never lasted more than a few minutes, and the effort to touch that place inside herself usually left her even more confused afterward, but in those minutes she was formidable. Whenever he’d seen that look, he’d wondered who she had been before she was broken—and before her mind had shattered into such confusion.
    He released her arm and followed her into the parlor.
    Allista hesitated, then shut the door, giving them privacy.
    Tersa sat on the sofa. Daemon knelt in front of her.
    Her mouth thinned in disapproval. “You’re a Black-Jeweled Warlord Prince. You kneel to no one but your Queen.”
    He took her hands in his, a physical connection that would keep her grounded as long as she was able to hold on. “I kneel before my mother as a son pleading for her help.”
    She frowned, and a little of that lucidity faded. Too little time to find out what he needed to know.
    “You helped a man build a spooky house,” he said.
    She nodded. “The Langston man. He was building a house like Jaenelle’s and said I could help. It’s going to be a surprise for the boy. And other children, too, but a surprise for the boy.”
    He was losing her too fast. “Who else was helping the Langston man? Do you remember?”
    Confusion. “I made surprises. One of them…” That lucidity was gone. She looked at him through the clarity of madness. “No. If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise.”
    “Can you remember what the surprises are? Can’t you give me a hint?”
    “ No. You’ll spoil the surprise for the boy.” Now there was hurt in her voice.
    He pressed his forehead against her knees, fighting to chain the frustration. “Tersa.” She’d worked to create those illusion spells and that bastard Jenkell had used her.
    He raised his head and looked at her. “Tersa, the Langston man is a bad man. He lied to you. He used your spells for his spooky house, but he also had two other Black Widows making spells for him, and their spells are meant to hurt whoever goes into his house. He wasn’t making an entertainment for us like Jaenelle is making. He wants to kill us.” He rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles, trying to hold her to this room and his words. “Tersa, Surreal is caught in that house. I need your help to get her out before she gets hurt.”
    He lost her. He’d told her too much—or not enough. No way to know with Tersa.
    “Darling, is there anything you can tell me? Please. ”
    “They giggle,” she said, her voice barely audible. “They’re big and hairy and they giggle.”
    What giggles? Daemon wondered, but he didn’t dare ask. She was pulling out whatever information she could. It would be up to him to figure out what it meant.
    “Tippy-tap,” Tersa said. She pressed her lips together and made a popping sound. Then she said, “The Mikal boy knows. He’ll tell the boy about the surprises.”
    She looked crushed, defeated. Even if Jenkell did no other harm, he was going after that son of a whoring bitch for the pain he’d just caused Tersa.
    “Thank you, darling.” Daemon kissed her hands and rose.
    “Thank you.”
    As he left the cottage and headed for the Queen of