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At last, silken sand flowed into an immense pile on the ground beside him. He had tons of it to work with, and it fueled him in turn.

The vampires gazed on warily, ready to attack.Try it.They were no longer a threat to Kosmina. Nothing would stand in Adham’s way now, not even his wounds.

He directed the finest sand to pour over his body, then stiffened it, forming a suit of armor to scaffold his bones in place and to help him move. Biting back agony, he rose—a hybrid king, half sand, half man. Sand masked his face like the Sorceri hunters of old. He spun two tornadoes of it to flank him.

With cold intent, he addressed the two vampires. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“She’s a ghoul by now.” Lothaire flashed his fangs. “Princess Kosmina is a proud female, worthy of her line. She would never want to go on like this.”

“Iwill use Dorada’s ring to turn her back.”

“Will you then? Long ago, I read your tattoos with interest, considering those Sorselan words a challenge. You marked yourself with a vow never to lose your root power. Dorada will demand one thing of a sorcerer like you—your very soul.”

“Yes.”

Lothaire clearly hadn’t expected that answer. “You’d become an Inferi for Mina?”

“Anything.”

“Even if you secured the ring, it can’t undo death. As soon as the sickness took hold, the Mina we knew was lost. You’ll have to do what’s necessary. Or we will.”

“Stay the fuck out of my way. Try to harm her, and the last thing you’ll breathe is sand.”

Instead of attacking, Lothaire’s expression glimmered with interest. He hiked a thumb at him and remarked to Kristoff, “I’ve got to see what this Sandman can do.”

Ignoring his pain, Adham rushed through the cleared entrance to the hive, vaguely aware of the vampires following him. A storm of more sand trailed them.

Man-made—or ghoul-made—tunnels opened in all directions. Figuring they’d each lead to the hive’s heart, he chose one and charged in.

A troop of dozens of sentries met him. He waved his hands, directing focused grains until a wall of sand hardened. He wielded it against them like a giant cudgel, liquefying them to the soundtrack of Lothaire chuckling and Kristoff telling him, “Shut up and let the sorcerer concentrate.”

Nothing could distract Adham; nothing could mute his godlike power.

In Nightside, one threat after another had attacked him and Kosmina. Nowhewas the sinister threat—the King of Sand.

Body healing with each moment, he vaulted over the puddled remains, heading into hell. From deeper within the mountain, untold groans sounded. What must be thousands of ghouls teemed upward to greet him.

He sent another wall of sand at them. It splattered the ghouls, one row of them after another.

The world was glowing green blood and sand.

Blood and sand. A reckoning.

From behind him, Lothaire muttered to Kristoff, “Beware the Sorceri.”

Yes.Fully empowered now, Adham was unstoppable. He would rescue Kosmina from this place, get her to the mortal realm, then call upon Dorada.

He knew that old witch would come for his soul.

Especially when it produced power like this. She would be the Queen of Evil and of Sand, and Adham would call it a bargain because he would have Kosmina back.

Blood. And sand.

Forty-Eight

The fever dreams ebbed, and the fog burned away. After hours—or nights—had passed, Mina’s eyes opened. She blinked and brought things into focus; those sentries still circled her, yet now their mouths were slack.

What happened?She didn’t feel like a ghoul. Maybe none of them did. She still had cognition; did they? She knew certain facts. She’d been scratched. Infection had spread. She had burned with fever and suffered delirium.