ing quieted down somewhat.

Too bad it didn’t do anything about the power drain.

Mother glanced at me. “Communication using Seidr is difficult for humans, and my daughter must carry the burden alone. I will therefore be blunt, for my time here is brief. She has come to ask you for the life of one man. I . . . have not.”

That did get a reaction, in the form of a dull blink, from me. And a mental replay of some of Pritkin’s history lesson. Please tell me I haven’t fucked this up, I thought blankly. Please, please, please . .

“Then why are you here?” the man asked, frowning slightly. As if he wasn’t any happier with her answer than I was.

“To grant you a boon, Adra. Or should I say, another?”

“When has the World Destroyer ever done us anything but harm?” It was a harsher voice this time, but I couldn’t tell where it came from.

Until a shorter, stouter figure stomped onto the bit of floor Mother’s light was illuminating.

And, okay, that was better. The first guy might have lulled me into a false sense of security, had I met him anywhere else, but that wasn’t an issue with this one. Not that that meant a damn—for all I knew, the new guy was a pushover. I’d learned from dealing with vamps that it didn’t do to judge on looks.

But that was kind of hard when the looks in question were so bizarre.

He—and I was guessing that solely based on voice— was pasty-pale and lumpy under a dark robe. And as far as I could tell, he had no facial features a human would recognize. He did have a head; at least I was assuming that was what the bulge on what I was also assuming were shoulders could be called, although it was a toss-up. But in place of eyes, nose, and mouth, he had a bunch of feelers or tentacles or, hell, I don’t know, white waving things emerging from pustules on the lump like the strands on an anemone. They were surrounding a hole lined with what had to be at least a couple of hundred tiny, pointy teeth.

And okay, maybe that was the mouth. I didn’t know, because I didn’t want to get close enough to find out. And yeah, that was me being species-ist and bigoted and whatever, but . .

I still didn’t.

But Mother didn’t look bothered. She lifted a single eyebrow, the way I’d never been able to do. Every time I tried it, both of mine went up, leaving me looking surprised instead of elegantly amused. But she nailed it.

“When, Asag? When I killed Ninurta, and set your people free from ten thousand years of bondage. When I slayed Pazuzu along with half his legions, and thus put an end to the war you could not. When the great Kamish fled from me, bleeding from a thousand wounds, and weak enough to allow you to hunt and exile him—”

“You did none of that for us! You were not trying to save us!” The voice was furious.

“Of course not. But the result of my actions was helpful, was it not? Or have you forgotten how they scourged you, the ones you now term ‘Ancient Horrors,’ but whom once you called lords and served humbly along with all your kin? Have you so quickly forgotten how they gloried in blood and war, while your people suffered in want and endless fear, waiting to be called up again and again, for no victory was ever enough, and no defeat deemed final . . . ?”

Mom kept talking, but I was having real trouble concentrating on her.

I was experiencing something like the electric frisson I’d felt with Mircea, only that was like saying a raindrop felt like a deluge. And okay, yeah, this might explain a few things. Like how I kept popping into other people’s heads, or them into mine . . . or it might have if I knew what the crap was going on. But I didn’t, and I couldn’t focus with what felt like a few thousand volts running along every vein.

Help, I thought vaguely.

“They left you bleeding on the battlefield,” Mother was saying. “Fodder for the carrion eaters. Or cowering behind your wards, alone on your little worlds, unable to grow or interact or explore, for fear of what prowled in the night—”

“You chief of all!” The demon sounded like he was choking.

“Oh, not chief, Asag, surely. Not for you. I only preyed on the powerful.”

The room laughed, if slightly uncomfortably. It didn’t do much to break the tension. I had a feeling nothing would.

“Whatever you may think of me,” Mother continued, “the fact remains that the killing of the great ones allowed saner voices to prevail at many courts, helped to bring about the end of the ancient wars, and did much to usher in the current era of, if not peace, at least of more stability than you have ever known.”

“And we should thank you for this?” the one she’d called Adra asked mildly.

“No, but you should, perhaps, thank me for thousands of years of freedom from my people’s depredations. When I barred them from earth, it cut them off from your worlds as well. You may think I took a heavy toll on your numbers, but how many would they have taken? In more than four millennia, how many?”

“Do you hear?” Asag demanded. “She is our benefactor now!”

“It is difficult to hear anything,” another voice interjected. “Over your chatter. Some of us would prefer to hear the Queen of Heaven.”

“Heaven is where she should have stayed. Along with the rest of her kind!”

“But we did not stay. We will not stay,” Mother said sharply. “You asked me why I came; it was to tell you this. My people have become desperate. They feasted in the good years, and grew strong. But also far more numerous. And unlike you, they did not restrict their population. They come now because they must; our world cannot support so many, even at a basic level. And when they come, whatever the price, they will come for you. And they will not take merely the ancient ones and be done with it, as I did. They will take you all.”

“Suddenly, they can return, after being barred for so long?” the one she called Adra asked. “Suddenly, your great protection fails?”

He sounded less crazed than the other guy, but I wasn’t sure he was any less skeptical. I guess I couldn’t blame him; it sounded like she’d played them pretty well in the past. But if she was going to bring them around now, she’d better hurry.

I’d passed tingly, traveled through fiery, said good-bye to scorching. And was starting to approach whatever it was called when one of those cartoon characters pushed a finger in a light socket and it lit him up, showing the skeleton through the skin. Even my hair felt crunchy. A human wasn’t meant to channel this much raw power.

And this one wasn’t going to be doing it for much longer.

“No, but as their hunger grows, so does their desperation,” Mother said, more quickly. “They will now risk things they once would have scorned. And I am no longer here, to be a bulwark for the twin worlds, or for you.”

“That sort of bulwark we can do without!” Asag said. “Do you not see what she is doing?” he asked his fellow demons. “Even from the grave she strikes at us! She uses her human child to speak to us, just as she would use her and the incubus’ spawn to finish what she began. And destroy us all!”

“My son has nothing to do with this!” Rosier’s voice rang out from somewhere. “I told you, it’s that girl—”

“Be silent! If you had not opposed his execution years ago, we would not be facing this peril now!”

“The peril you face is not of their making, Asag,” Mother said mildly. “Your paranoia is as strong as ever, and as ever it is misplaced.”

The demon started to respond, but was cut off by the demon Mom had called Adra. “You may voice your concerns afterward, my lord. For now, let her speak.”

“It is not Asag’s ramblings that you need to fear,” she said. “Or others like him. It is those too timid to speak now, but who, when I am gone, will cloak their fear in the voice of reason. We will do as we did before, they will say. We will take refuge behind our walls, behind our locked and barred gates, and wait. It saved us once; why not again? And from enemies who may never return, or who if they do will not have the same skill as She Who Controls the Paths. They did not dare to hunt us before, in our own lands. They will not dare now. We are safe. . . ”

She trailed off, gentle mocking in her tone, and the room became deadly quiet.

“I come to tell you that you are not safe. You were only so before if you did not interest me. I could have taken any of you, anytime I pleased, and there are those now as powerful as I once was. They do not have my gift, no. But they have others. And they will use them.”

“Lies!” Asag exploded. “Lies! Who is the only one who hunted us, who used us, for whom we swore eternal hatred? Have you so quickly forgotten?”

“We have forgotten nothing,” Adra said. “And I have warned you once.”

At least, I thought that’s what he said. I could barely hear over my heartbeat anymore, I couldn’t feel my legs, and my whole body was trembling like I had a fever. I felt someone’s hand on my arm, clenching tight, but I couldn’t tell whose. Someone who was trying to keep me upright, but I was past caring. I didn’t need to be on my feet; I just needed this to be over. I just needed . .

To give her time to finish.

Mother’s eyes swept the room, and there was no amusement in her voice now, no banter, no teasing. It was flat and uncompromising, the voice of an oracle in full control of her power. In spite of everything, it sent a wash of gooseflesh over my arms.

I wondered if anyone else realized; she wasn’t just talking anymore.

She was prophesying.

“You are poised on a razor’s edge. Join my daughter. Fight with her. Give her the incubus and whatever other help you can. For if you do not, there will come a time, very soon, when you will wish you had.”

Chapter Thirty-one

Five minutes later, I was on a couch in the lobby, slightly steaming. If I was a cartoon, I’d have had a blackened face, hair standing straight on end, and wisps of steam floating out of my ears. And I wasn’t the only one.

“Well, that could have gone better.”