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said, answering her question for the third time, not letting any hint of impatience color his voice, much as he wanted to get this over with. “Then the Hag said there was a war coming. Soon. She said it stands on the threshold. She said that the Shadowblade would have to choose’fire or blood, and that either choice would have a grave cost. Lives would be lost. Then the Hag gave the Shadowblade something. She told her when the time is right, to swallow it and know what she wants. Then she will have it.”

    Alexander told Selange everything but Max’s name, and the way she had chosen not to shoot him at the end. Selange would read more into it than there was. Collusion, because he had let Max get away. It did not matter that he had had no choice’now that he had defied her once, she did not trust him anymore.

    Selange’s wine red fingernails clicked against the desk. “The Hag must have given her a hailstone,” she thought aloud. And then to Alexander: “And the Hag’s staff? She didn’t have it until after the Shadowblade let her feed?”

    “That is correct.”

    Selange’s fingernails tapped harder, then stilled. “Very well. I will send the Sunspears back to the orchard this morning to see if they can recover the Hag.”

    Alexander studied her. Something was going on here she was not telling him. She fairly quivered with suppressed something’excitement? Anger? Her nostrils flared slightly, and in the quiet he could hear her heart speeding. She sat back, her eyes narrowing. She had made him to be a bloodhound, a lion, a bloodthirsty dragon. But she did not like it when he turned his magical gifts on her.

    “Is that wise?” he asked. “The police will be investigating.”

    “It is my command,” she said flatly. “I’ve no further need of you until the Conclave tonight. You may go.”

    Dismissed, Alexander retreated, his jaw knotting. He wanted to ask more questions’as her Shadowblade Prime, he needed all the information he could get to protect her. But she would not answer. She had told him all she was going to.

    Just as he opened the door, a chime sounded. It echoed, growing louder. Selange rose to her feet, excitement firing her expression.

    “Alexander, come with me.”

    With that she strode rapidly out through a long gallery of pink-veined marble. He followed a step behind, an uncontrollable chill rolling down his spine. The curved ceiling was made entirely of glass. All that separated him from the sun were the blackout shutters. If they should accidentally be opened, he had nowhere to hide.

    The long tunnel emptied into a spacious waiting room shaped like an octagon and full of comfortable white couches and chairs. Like the gallery’s ceiling, this room’s glass walls were sealed by blackout shutters with the exception of a broad set of double doors on the far wall. They were made of oak bound in iron and carved with mystic symbols. To one side was a heavy oak desk, behind which sat Selange’s secretary. Kev was a Tatane faery from the Easter Islands. He was dark skinned with full lips and green eyes, his hair curling close against his head. He looked perfectly human except for the faint flecks of gold burnishing his skin and dancing in his eyes. Until he spoke. Then you could see that his tongue and the interior of his mouth were as dark as his skin. Besides being a secretary and faery, he was also a shape-shifter and Selange’s familiar. One of them.

    He stood with boneless grace as they entered. “They are here,” he announced in a low voice that made Alexander’s hand tighten into a fist.

    He did not know what it was about Kev that set him on edge. The Tatane had been with Selange nearly as long as Alexander, and he had never done anything to hurt her. But there was a promise lurking in the corners of his glance and in the grooves of his voice, a pledge of danger and betrayal. Alexander had to check himself when Kev stepped in front of the desk to block Selange’s