Black Night (26 page)
“You’ll still be out of the conflict by sending everyone away from your court and not openly allying yourself with one faction. If you still want to renegotiate a treaty between Lucifer’s court and yours, I can always come back after the smoke has cleared.”
I watched her, trying not to betray my hope. Maybe she would buy it. Maybe all of this could be fixed with logic and very little bloodshed. Maybe we would all just be able to go home.
Then she shook her head. “I agree with you in principle, and perhaps I will take your advice regarding Focalor. But I still do not wish to give up the thrall.”
“Amarantha,” I said, and she looked mildly offended that I was speaking to her as an equal. But I’m not big on titles, and I wanted her to feel like I was her confidant. “If you don’t give up Gabriel, then it’s tantamount to accepting Focalor as your ally. You’re insulting Azazel, and Lucifer won’t be able to tolerate it. He will be forced to include your court when he goes after Focalor.”
“By then he may have other motivation to spare us,” she said stubbornly.
Fine. I would say it right out even if she wouldn’t. “You’re only going to piss Lucifer off if you have Gabriel’s baby.”
“Everyone knows Lord Lucifer is irrational about his bloodline,” she said. “That will protect me.”
“No, it will protect the
baby
,” I said, speaking slowly so that she would understand. “What makes you think that Lucifer won’t kill you the second the child is born and then take that child to his own court to live?”
baby
,” I said, speaking slowly so that she would understand. “What makes you think that Lucifer won’t kill you the second the child is born and then take that child to his own court to live?”
For the second time Amarantha looked unsure. “He would have the wrath of all the faerie courts on his head if he did such a thing.”
“Not if he argued that you had insulted him in the first place by using his grandson as a stud. Not if he was able to convince the other courts that the insult could only be paid with your life. If you’ve done any reading over the last thousand years, then you know that Lucifer’s powers of persuasion are quite, well, persuasive.”
I could see all my arguments playing around in her head, and I could see just as clearly that I would fail. Amarantha was used to getting her own way, and damn the consequences.
Then something shifted in her face, and she gave me a crafty look.
“There may be a way for all of us to save face in this,” she said.
“And what is that?” I asked warily. I felt a dribble of cold sweat trickle down my spine. She looked way too pleased with herself all of a sudden.
“There could be a competition between yourself and a representative of Focalor’s camp, with the thrall as the prize.”
“What kind of a competition?” If it was a hand-to-hand combat situation, I was probably screwed, because Antares would definitely volunteer for sister-beating duty and he had already proven that he was stronger than me.
“A test of strength and wit and cunning. If you win, I will return the thrall to you and formally reestablish relations with Lord Lucifer. If Focalor’s representative wins, then I will accept the thrall as my gift and establish ties with his court. This seems to me a fair way to settle the argument between the two of you without becoming embroiled in the conflict.”
“Except that if you side with Focalor for any reason, Lucifer will not take it kindly. I’d advise you to think on that—again,” I said.
“It seems to me that you are frightened to face Focalor. If Lucifer’s court is so strong, then surely my little test will be nothing for you, and you will be on your way home with your thrall in hand tomorrow,” Amarantha said.
I knew she was goading me. I’m not stupid. And I also knew that I was going to undertake her test no matter what. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t at least try to get Gabriel back.
“I’d like some more specifics on this test before I agree,” I said.
“As I said, a competition of strength and wit and cunning—the Maze.”
Gabriel looked up suddenly and jerked on his leash. “Madeline, no, you must not.”
“Silence,” Amarantha hissed.
He stood abruptly, yanking the leash from her hands. Amarantha looked furious. He put his hands on my shoulders and gazed intently into my eyes. I reached up and covered his hands with mine.
“You must not do this. The Maze is too dangerous.”
“I said, silence, thrall!” Amarantha shouted. She stalked back to her chaise and pulled out a short wooden rod of the same type that J.B. carried and pointed it at Gabriel.
“No!” I cried as she shot him with a bolt of magic from the rod.
He fell to the floor, writhing in pain. I noticed for the first time that he wore two slim silver bracelets around each wrist. The bracelets crackled with power. So they were some kind of binding, then—to keep his abilities suppressed, I assumed, and to keep him under control when he acted up.
I gave Amarantha a furious glare. “He’s not yours to treat like a dog.”
“He is mine for now, and mine to treat as I wish. Are you willing to participate in my competition, and win him back?”
I was sure the Maze would be dangerous. I was sure that she didn’t care if I lived or died, and that my death might be preferable in the long run. I was also sure that while I was risking my life she’d be trying to get Gabriel’s baby anyway, so that no matter the outcome of the contest she’d still have her child of Lucifer’s bloodline.
“Of course,” I replied.
“No!” Gabriel shouted from the floor. He turned to Amarantha. “You cannot let her go there. She is human; she will never survive.”
Amarantha’s only reply was to blast him again.
“You have accepted my offer. It is done.”
I looked at Amarantha. “Let me know if Focalor agrees.”
She nodded, her eyes filled with glee. She definitely expected me to get pasted.
I glanced at Gabriel. “I will come back for you.”
He shook his head, and I could see he was already grieving for me.
“I will come back for you,” I said again, and then I turned on my heel and walked out.
It probably goes without saying that J.B. and Beezle were not happy with my decision. J.B. followed me back to my room with a clenched jaw and Beezle spent the whole time saying things like, “Who’s going to take care of me when you’re dead?” and “Is that fool really worth your life?”
J.B. slammed my bedroom door shut behind us. “Are you out of your mind?”
I crossed the room and dug in my pack for a granola bar. I was suddenly ravenously hungry. I unwrapped the bar and chomped it down in a few bites, then dug around looking for something else to eat. Unfortunately, Beezle hadn’t left much behind after his nervous binge this morning.
“Did you hear me?” J.B. asked.
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” I replied, sitting on the bed.
“I don’t think that you do. You have no idea what’s in the Maze,” he said grimly, running his hands over his head. Whenever he got nervous or upset, he would tug on his hair. He was starting to get that bedhead-y look, and that told me more than his tone that he was really unhappy.
“Why is it that nobody has any confidence in my ability to survive this thing?” I said. “You told me just this morning that you believed I could handle myself because I beat Ramuell.”
“Ramuell was nothing compared to the Maze.”
I thought about that for a minute. “Okay. So tell me what I’m facing here.”
“I can’t. It’s different for everyone,” he said.
“How can that be?”
“The Maze is enchanted. Each person who enters must face their worst nightmares, their most horrible monsters. And the worst your psyche can dredge up is far more damaging than anything that Amarantha can devise. No one, and let me emphasize this,
no one
in over a thousand years has survived the Maze.”
no one
in over a thousand years has survived the Maze.”
“Oh.” This was not good.
“Right. Oh.” J.B.’s fists buried in his hair.
“The best we can hope for is that you will return alive but insane,” Beezle said.
“Well, on the upside, this means that Antares will probably get eaten by something,” I said. “Because I know that if there’s a competition between myself and a representative from Focalor’s court, he will be jumping up and down to volunteer.”
“Yes, but would Focalor be willing to waste one of his best lieutenants on a suicide mission?” Beezle said. “I know that if Lucifer or Azazel was here, he would not let you do this.”
“Lucky for me neither of them are here,” I said dryly. “Look, I’ll just clear my mind or whatever and get through it. I’m not powerless.”
“It’s not a matter of clearing your mind. Do you think this is some simple enchantment that will skim the surface of your brain? The Maze is a living thing, a creature of immense power. It can see into every nook and cranny. It will find horrors that you never even were aware of deep inside you,” J.B. said.
Now I was starting to get scared. But I wasn’t going to tell them that.
“I have to do it,” I said.
J.B. grabbed my shoulders. His face was desperate. “Doesn’t it mean anything to you that you’re going to die for someone who can never love you? Doesn’t it mean anything to you that I am standing right here and that
I
need you?”
I
need you?”
He’d been so good-natured when I’d turned him down that I hadn’t realized he felt this way. I hadn’t thought that there was more to it than a flirtatious attraction.
I shook my head and swallowed the tears that I felt burning in my throat. “I’m sorry, J.B. I’m more sorry than I can say. I never wanted to hurt you.”
His hands fell away, his shoulders slumped. “That’s what girls always say when they don’t want you.”
“I guess being the children of immortals doesn’t exempt us from stupid human clichés,” I said, trying to smile.
He gave a hollow laugh. “That will be a real comfort to me when they bring back your body.”
I took his hands and stood up, my eyes on his. “You believed in me before. Believe in me now. I will come back.”
“In how many pieces?” Beezle said.
“One,” I said. “I promise.”
“You can’t make that promise,” J.B. said.
I smiled. “I’m Lucifer’s granddaughter. Promises are a family specialty.”
J.B. left, and Beezle went with him.
“I can’t stay here and watch you tick down the moments until your inevitable death,” he said.
“Give me a break, Beezle,” I said, hurt that he didn’t believe in me, that he didn’t want to stay with me. “I figured you’d want to make gloomy pronouncements until it’s time to go. It helps me get psyched up.”
He shook his head, his face unusually grave. “Not this time.”
And that more than anything terrified me. If Beezle couldn’t crack wise about the Maze, then maybe there really was something to be scared of.
Maybe it really was worse than Ramuell. I hadn’t thought that was possible.
I scrounged up a small bag of almonds that Beezle had somehow overlooked, drank some bottled water, and changed into my regular, non-ambassador clothes. I’d packed my favorite blue jeans and a long-sleeved black tee plus my black Converse sneakers. I took down my stupid updo and carefully braided my hair into one long plait that ended in the middle of my back. Then I wrapped the plait around my head so I looked a lot like Princess Leia, but at least my hair was out of the way and couldn’t be used as a weapon by anything scary that I might meet in the Maze.
I looked at myself in the mirror. This was as good as it was going to get. I was ready for battle.
“It would be nice to have a machete or something, though,” I muttered to my reflection.
“Would a sword do?” a voice said from the connecting doorway.
I whirled around. Nathaniel stood in the doorway watching me. He clutched one arm around his middle where I had burned him. I saw white bandages showing under his unbuttoned dress shirt. His face was pale and he looked like he was in horrific pain.
“You look terrible,” I said with a total lack of sympathy. “Why haven’t you healed yourself?”
“It seems,” he said, struggling a bit with the effort of speaking, “that the spell you used on me cannot be healed in the usual way. I must wait for my body to reknit itself.”
“You know it’s no less than you deserve,” I said.
He nodded. “I am well aware that my behavior was reprehensible. But there was something . . . You must believe that I did not feel like myself.”
“You felt like a rapist?”
“No,” he said slowly. “More like I was under the influence of a power not my own.”
I didn’t want to give credence to this. Nathaniel had hurt me. But I had a flash of remembrance, the feeling I’d had of something alien looking out from Nathaniel’s eyes.
“What power could have overcome you?” I asked. “You’re not the weakest of Azazel’s court.”
Nathaniel’s eyes flashed. “Whose castle do we presently reside in?”
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