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“You misunderstand me,” I say slowly. “I’m telling you your king is down there not because he’s dead, but because I’m going into that hole and getting himback.”

“You can’t,” one of the reaves says. “It’s forbidden.”

The other reave’s nostrils flare; I get the impression he’s scenting the air again.

“Iam,” I insist, “and neither you, nor anyone else will stop me,” I command, my voice harmonizing with itself, my glamour thick in the air.

“You can’t possibly navigate your way down,” the other reave says, even as he steps out of my way.

“You better hope I can,” I reply, “or else I’m dragging you down there with me.”

In the darkness, some creature hisses, and the noises from the Pit have ratcheted up with excitement.

“Fresh blood,” I seem to hear one of the voices say.

Yes, my siren purrs,there’s plenty of fresh blood for us to spill.

“Is that a threat?” the reave asks.

“Damn straight it is,” Temper says. “Have you not been listening?” The sorceress’s power is beginning to crackle.

We’re wasting time squabbling. With every moment that passes, Des is slipping farther from me.

I unleash the full force of my power, my flesh throbbing with the pulse of my magic. “I’m going into the Pit, and I’m coming out with your king. No one is to stop me, and no one is to do me or my human friend here any harm.”

“The white-haired fairy you can fuck with,” Temper adds darkly, earning her a glare from Galleghar.

In response to my commands, the reaves fall back, their eyes glittering with malice.

I glance at Temper. “This is where I leave you.”

“What do you mean ‘leave you’?” she asks accusingly.

“You will not follow me into the Pit,” I command.

Did she really think I’d let her enter the land of the dead?

“Don’t youdareleave me out here.” Temper’s magic begins to spark down her skin, a sure sign that she’s getting pissed. “That isnothow this works.”

How this works is I’m not going to let my friend get killed.

“I love you, Temper, but this is my battle.” She wasn’t going to be dying today. “If I’m not back in a day, then you can come looking for me.”

God, please don’t make me eat my words.

“I’m not waiting aday,” she protests.

I grip her arms. “I have to do this, Temper.” I’m practically begging with her.

She stares at me for a beat, then pulls me into her arms and hugs me tight. “You keep yourself safe—the least you can do is promise me that.”

I squeeze her, holding her close. “I promise.” It’s a lie, but one we both need to hear.

“You kill that motherfucker,” she adds.

I nod into her shoulder. “I will.” Or at least, I’ll try. Not sure yet how I’m going to kill an undead thing.

Releasing her, I back up. Temper doesn’t try to stop me, though the broken expression on her face nearly makes me falter.