“That’s enough there, Sasha.”

“A little more. I can do more. Doyle, tell her he’s going to be all right, then get Bran’s big kit. Riley?”

“Blood’s slowed, but I can’t stop it.”

“Bran will. He will. I see us, together. All of us. On a hill with a circle of stones, and the sea is blue. I see it, and we’re six. Get the kit, Doyle, and tell Annika he’ll be all right.”

“I’m here.” She came in, naked, legs shaky. “I believe.”

“Here you go.” Doyle swung off his coat, wrapped her in it. “You’re cold.”

“He came for me. He tricked them, and he came for me. He risked all for me, for us, for the stars. He is courage.” Tears streamed as she knelt down. “Let me help.”

Malmon crawled. The light, the terrible light, had blinded him. All he saw was the dark. And the pain! Even now, with the screams and thundering dropped away into a brutal silence, his body burned.

He smelled his own smoking skin and hot blood.

But he lived, so he crawled over the scorched, stony ground. He craved water, cool, cool water, for his body, for his throat. He would have given half his wealth for a cup of water.

Then he heard her voice, and trembled.

“You failed me.”

“No, my queen. No. We were ambushed, tricked, but even now soldiers are taking them. You will have all six. Please, they hurt me.”

“Your soldiers failed, and are gone from this world as all the others you brought here.”

“Please, my love, my queen, the light burned me. My eyes. Help me.”

Full of pain, he crawled toward the sound of her voice, and was struck back.

“Why should I help one who failed me? I gave you a gift, and what have you given me?”

“All I am, all I have.” Blindly, he reached up.

“You are nothing. You have nothing but what I grant you. You had two tasks, my pet. The stars, the guardians. For these two tasks, I would have given you eternal life, eternal youth, and all you could wish for. You have none of them.”

“I will. I swear it, I won’t fail.”

“You’re blind. Weak. Nothing but a broken shell.”

“Help me.” Though every inch burned, he crawled again. “Help me see, help me heal. I’ll bring you the stars. I’ll bring them bathed in the blood of the guardians.”

“You want to see?”

“Restore my eyes, I beg you. I can’t find the stars, can’t kill those who stand against you if I can’t see.”

“You want to see?” she repeated, and the laugh in her voice made him tremble. “And if I grant you this, you will pledge yourself to my service?”

“I am your servant. I will be your servant. Have mercy.”

“Mercy is a weakness. I am strength. I’ll give you sight again, my pet. I’ll let you see.”

His eyes seemed to boil in his head. He screamed, screamed until his throat bled, covered his burning eyes as he tried to claw his way back from the pain.

The tears he wept were bloody.

Through the screams, through the agony, he heard her laugh.

And through the dark, he began to see.

Her hair flew around her face in coils, and on her face lived a mad satisfaction as he writhed and shrieked. Still, the man and what that man had nearly become held out its hands to her.

A supplicant.

“Never ask for mercy.” She smiled at him, almost kindly. “And do not fail me again. There, crawl back in your hole.” She gestured toward the cave. “And await my pleasure.”

“Don’t leave me. Take me with you. Take me with you so I may serve you.”

“You wish to go with me?” As if considering, she circled him where he lay, her long black gown rustling like wings.

“I’ll grow strong again. I’ll bring you the stars. I’ll bring you the heads of the guardians.”

“Words and promises mean nothing. Get me what I want.” She leaned down toward him. “Or the pain they gave you will be as nothing to my displeasure.”

“I will heal. I will give you all you want. Take me with you, my queen.”

“Very well. Take my hand.”

Shaking with gratitude, he reached out. The hand he put in hers was blackened, the skin peeling in sheets, and the nails an inch long, thickened, yellow, curved like claws.

“If you were not what I made you, what you’re becoming, you would be gone like the rest of those you brought here, those who failed. Remember that. My pet.”

Pain came again, a shock of it, as if he’d been ripped out of fire into ice. The cold nearly shattered him. His bones seemed to crack and hiss.

Then came the dark, complete.

When he blinked, he could see dimly. Some sort of room or chamber, with chains and shackles hanging from walls of stone.

The birds that weren’t birds hunched on perches, eyes glinting yellow in the darkness.

“You will bide here. When you have become, I will have use for you.”

“The dark. The cold.”

“Ah, yes, there is still some of that in you, some that yearns for light, for heat. Very well.”

Candles and torches burst into flame. On their perches, the birds that weren’t birds shrieked and fanned their wings. The walls, stone polished to a gleam, shot out dozens of reflections.

Nerezza, in her black gown, a bloodred ruby at her throat. The birds, yellow eyes glinting, wings folding in.