Christina Henry - Black Night

Fine. I would say it right out even if she wouldn’t. “You’re only going to piss Lucifer off if you have Gabriel’s baby.”

“Everyone knows Lord Lucifer is irrational about his bloodline,” she said. “That will protect me.”

“No, it will protect the baby,” I said, speaking slowly so that she would understand. “What makes you think that Lucifer won’t kill you the second the child is born and then take that child to his own court to live?”

For the second time Amarantha looked unsure. “He would have the wrath of all the faerie courts on his head if he did such a thing.”

“Not if he argued that you had insulted him in the first place by using his grandson as a stud. Not if he was able to convince the other courts that the insult could only be paid with your life. If you’ve done any reading over the last thousand years, then you know that Lucifer’s powers of persuasion are quite, well, persuasive.”

I could see all my arguments playing around in her head, and I could see just as clearly that I would fail. Amarantha was used to getting her own way, and damn the consequences.

Then something shifted in her face, and she gave me a crafty look.

“There may be a way for all of us to save face in this,” she said.

“And what is that?” I asked warily. I felt a dribble of cold sweat trickle down my spine. She looked way too pleased with herself all of a sudden.

“There could be a competition between yourself and a representative of Focalor’s camp, with the thrall as the prize.”

“What kind of a competition?” If it was a hand-to-hand combat situation, I was probably screwed, because Antares would definitely volunteer for sister-beating duty and he had already proven that he was stronger than me.

“A test of strength and wit and cunning. If you win, I will return the thrall to you and formally reestablish relations with Lord Lucifer. If Focalor’s representative wins, then I will accept the thrall as my gift and establish ties with his court. This seems to me a fair way to settle the argument between the two of you without becoming embroiled in the conflict.”

“Except that if you side with Focalor for any reason, Lucifer will not take it kindly. I’d advise you to think on that—again,” I said.

“It seems to me that you are frightened to face Focalor. If Lucifer’s court is so strong, then surely my little test will be nothing for you, and you will be on your way home with your thrall in hand tomorrow,” Amarantha said.

I knew she was goading me. I’m not stupid. And I also knew that I was going to undertake her test no matter what. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t at least try to get Gabriel back.

“I’d like some more specifics on this test before I agree,” I said.

“As I said, a competition of strength and wit and cunning—the Maze.”

Gabriel looked up suddenly and jerked on his leash. “Madeline, no, you must not.”

“Silence,” Amarantha hissed.

He stood abruptly, yanking the leash from her hands. Amarantha looked furious. He put his hands on my shoulders and gazed intently into my eyes. I reached up and covered his hands with mine.

“You must not do this. The Maze is too dangerous.”

“I said, silence, thrall!” Amarantha shouted. She stalked back to her chaise and pulled out a short wooden rod of the same type that J.B. carried and pointed it at Gabriel.

“No!” I cried as she shot him with a bolt of magic from the rod.

He fell to the floor, writhing in pain. I noticed for the first time that he wore two slim silver bracelets around each wrist. The bracelets crackled with power. So they were some kind of binding, then—to keep his abilities suppressed, I assumed, and to keep him under control when he acted up.

I gave Amarantha a furious glare. “He’s not yours to treat like a dog.”

“He is mine for now, and mine to treat as I wish. Are you willing to participate in my competition, and win him back?”

I was sure the Maze would be dangerous. I was sure that she didn’t care if I lived or died, and that my death might be preferable in the long run. I was also sure that while I was risking my life she’d be trying to get Gabriel’s baby anyway, so that no matter the outcome of the contest she’d still have her child of Lucifer’s bloodline.

“Of course,” I replied.

“No!” Gabriel shouted from the floor. He turned to Amarantha. “You cannot let her go there. She is human; she will never survive.”

Amarantha’s only reply was to blast him again.

“You have accepted my offer. It is done.”

I looked at Amarantha. “Let me know if Focalor agrees.”

She nodded, her eyes filled with glee. She definitely expected me to get pasted.

I glanced at Gabriel. “I will come back for you.”

He shook his head, and I could see he was already grieving for me.

“I will come back for you,” I said again, and then I turned on my heel and walked out.

It probably goes without saying that J.B. and Beezle were not happy with my decision. J.B. followed me back to my room with a clenched jaw and Beezle spent the whole time saying things like, “Who’s going to take care of me when you’re dead?” and “Is that fool really worth your life?”

J.B. slammed my bedroom door shut behind us. “Are you out of your mind?”

I crossed the room and dug in my pack for a granola bar. I was suddenly ravenously hungry. I unwrapped the bar and chomped it down in a few bites, then dug around looking for something else to eat. Unfortunately, Beezle hadn’t left much behind after his nervous binge this morning.

“Did you hear me?” J.B. asked.

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” I replied, sitting on the bed.

“I don’t think that you do. You have no idea what’s in the Maze,” he said grimly, running his hands over his head. Whenever he got nervous or upset, he would tug on his hair. He was starting to get that bedhead-y look, and that told me more than his tone that he was really unhappy.

“Why is it that nobody has any confidence in my ability to survive this thing?” I said. “You told me just this morning that you believed I could handle myself because I beat Ramuell.”

“Ramuell was nothing compared to the Maze.”

I thought about that for a minute. “Okay. So tell me what I’m facing here.”

“I can’t. It’s different for everyone,” he said.

“How can that be?”

“The Maze is enchanted. Each person who enters must face their worst nightmares, their most horrible monsters. And the worst your psyche can dredge up is far more damaging than anything that Amarantha can devise. No one, and let me emphasize this, no one in over a thousand years has survived the Maze.”

“Oh.” This was not good.

“Right. Oh.” J.B.’s fists buried in his hair.

“The best we can hope for is that you will return alive but insane,” Beezle said.

“Well, on the upside, this means that Antares will probably get eaten by something,” I said. “Because I know that if there’s a competition between myself and a representative from Focalor’s court, he will be jumping up and down to volunteer.”

“Yes, but would Focalor be willing to waste one of his best lieutenants on a suicide mission?” Beezle said. “I know that if Lucifer or Azazel was here, he would not let you do this.”

“Lucky for me neither of them are here,” I said dryly. “Look, I’ll just clear my mind or whatever and get through it. I’m not powerless.”

“It’s not a matter of clearing your mind. Do you think this is some simple enchantment that will skim the surface of your brain? The Maze is a living thing, a creature of immense power. It can see into every nook and cranny. It will find horrors that you never even were aware of deep inside you,” J.B. said.