Bael paused in his steady progress toward me.

Drake’s arms tightened again. I patted his hand until he loosened his grip somewhat.

“I found the Doctrine very interesting reading. Most of it was just esoteric stuff that went on and on about what form damnations should take, and which torments were allowed, but there was a very interesting albeit short section about the formation of the princes, particularly about the removal thereof.”

Bael’s face turned to a frozen mask.

“To be specific, it says that you can’t banish a fellow demon lord. No prince can—only someone who is not one of the eight princes can banish you guys. Which is why you set me up to banish Ariton, isn’t it? You couldn’t do it without having the other six princes rise up and overthrow you, so you arranged the situation so I inadvertently took care of a troublesome prince for you.” I squared my shoulders. “In other words, you’re stuck with me—unless you and the other princes vote me off the island.”

Fury flashed in Bael’s blue eyes for a moment. I knew he must be feeling cornered at that moment, and a cornered demon lord was a dangerous beast. I picked my next few words carefully.

“I never intended to enact a coup, as you well know. I simply wanted to point out to you what a pain in the ass I will be if you do not convince the others to give me the boot. You can’t possibly want me to remain here. I have rejected the dark power time and time again, and with the support and love of my friends and family, I will continue to do so.”

A muscle in Bael’s jaw twitched, but still he said nothing.

Drake curled one arm protectively around me, his eyes velvety green as he watched the demon lord.

“I am not threatening you, and I am not challenging your authority, but I am saying that I will continue to be a thorn in your side. I will not rest until I have been granted an expulsion from Abaddon, and I am prepared to do whatever it takes—within the bounds of what I consider morally allowable—to see that happen.”

Rather than rant and rave, Bael relaxed at what I said, the glint of anger fading as he leaned against the table next to him. “Indeed? You ask much of me, Aisling Grey. I went to great pains to put you into place—granted, you were of use to me in removing the annoying Ariton, but even so, I had come to see the possibilities of your presence in Abaddon. And yet you wish now for me to grant you a great undertaking, for it will not be easy to convince the other lords to ex pulse you.”

I didn’t believe that for a second, but I wasn’t foolish enough to put my thoughts into speech.

“Your wyvern is no doubt well aware that such a favor as you ask of me will not be granted without a substantial payment…and a sacrifice.”

I glanced at Drake. His body language read caution. “What price do you demand of my mate?”

“And what sacrifice?” I asked, more worried about that than money.

Bael toyed with a dagger that lay on the table. I refused to think about what it was doing there. “Your wyvern has in his possession three trinkets, I believe. Their return would satisfy the price I demand.”

“Trinkets?” I asked suspiciously, casting my mind over the things in Drake’s house. “What trinkets?”

Jim stepped on my foot, its eyes trying to tell me something.

“The Tools,” Drake said softly, his eyes glittering now as if he was sizing up Bael. “You wish for the return of the three Tools.”

“The Tools of Bael?” I asked, my voice rising on the last word. “You’re joking! You think I’m going to hand over to you the three Tools? Those things are powerful as all get-out on their own—together, whoever wields them can rule the Otherworld! I don’t think so!”

Bael laughed, a horrible sound that made the skin on my back crawl. “Do you think if they had that possibility for me that I would not have done anything to possess them again? The Tools provide the bearer access to my power, something I would point out I already have.”

“Oh.” I thought about that for a moment or two. It made sense—when I’d handed the three Tools over to Drake for safekeeping, I’d done so to keep them out of harm’s way. Drake had enough power and had no need to control the Otherworld, but others were not so trustworthy. I turned to him now, asking, “Is that true?”

He nodded slowly. “The Tools would be of no use to Bael. Which makes me wonder why, then, he is so anxious to have them.”

“It is a trivial reason,” Bael answered dismissively, his hands gesturing away the question. “They were mine, pretty things, taken from me. Surely a dragon can appreciate the need to possess that which was once his?”

“Yes,” Drake answered. “I can also understand the desire to remove a possible conduit to my powers from the reach of others.”

Anger flared to life for a fraction of a second in Bael’s eyes.

“I think you hit a nerve,” I said softly. “What do you think? Are you willing to give up the Tools to him? Would they be safe?”

Drake was silent for a moment. “I would not give them up for anything but you. I do, however, believe that Bael will keep them from being used by members of the Otherworld. Whether or not he does so from his fellow princes is up to him.”

“I have not ruled Abaddon as long as I have by being foolish,” Bael answered.

“OK, so that takes care of the price. What sacrifice do you want now? I think the local store is fresh out of roast chickens, but I’m willing to spring for a turkey or even a couple of pot roasts if that’ll do the trick.”

“Oh, no,” Bael said, tossing the dagger in the air and catching it by the very tip of its blade. “This sacrifice is demanded of you, Aisling Grey. You ask for a sacrifice on my part in going to the trouble of having you removed from Abaddon—you must provide me with a similar sacrifice.”

“What, exactly?” I asked, a hollow feeling in my gut.

Bael’s hand jerked downward, embedding the point of the dagger a good three inches into the solid wood of the table. I jumped at the violence of the movement, squeezing up tight to Drake as Bael’s expression darkened. “Be it known to all that upon payment of the items known as the Tools of Bael, and a formal disavowal of Guardianship, I will grant Aisling Grey, seventh prince of Abaddon, expulsion from our ranks.”

24

The dream started as so many others have—with a drowsy sense of presence, Drake’s presence, which seeped into the core of my very being and roused my awareness gently, but insistently.