“No, child,» a second voice urged. This time, it was a woman's voice, throbbing with encouragement. «Do not heed him. The ones you love are near. Your mate is with them. They fight for you. You must not surrender. If you let the Evil One claim you, your mate will die, and without him, nothing can prevent the Evil One from destroying your soul. Fight him, child. For your mate. For your soul. Fight him for all the lives he has destroyed.»

“Ellysetta! Shei’tani!» Rain's call flared across her senses, a bright, warm light blooming in the icy darkness.

The pain of the exorcism and betrayal had driven her here, to this shadowy realm. The High Mage had kept her distracted, filling her mind with doubts, playing on her fears. But now, revitalizing energy filled her, a wellspring of renewed hope.

Rain. He'd come back.

"Do not listen to those foolish creatures!" the Mage cried. "You cannot stop what is happening. Do not fight it. Let yourself go.”

"No!" she shouted defiantly. The shadow world fell away in a dizzying rush. Her senses flooded back to her, nerves howling, sel'dor burning like live coals embedded in her flesh.

She woke screaming.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Shrouded by the long, wild mass of her hair hanging in her face and blinded by pain, Ellysetta struggled to find her bearings. Den had slung her over one beefy shoulder, with no regard for the way his every motion drove the sel'dor needles deeper into her flesh, scraping metal against bone. Eight searing needles, each one topped by a voracious, evil crystal, fought to consume her blood and soul.

She hung on to consciousness by will alone. If she let them take her into the Well, she-the person who was Ellysetta-would never return.

«Ellysetta! Shei’tani!» Rain's call pierced the fractured shields surrounding the Solarus, and she almost wept with relief. Never had a sound been so welcome.

"We're out of time. Get her into the Well, now!" Nivane cried.

Den sped up, rounding the corner of the altar table. Ellysetta's hair dragged across one of the velvet-topped marble benches. And there, still open, its evil implements winking in the bright light of the Solarus, sat the exorcist's leather case.

Her hand shot out. Her fingertips snagged the corner of the case lid, and she yanked it towards her. Half a dozen needles spilled to the floor, but she managed to snatch up a handful of the torturous implements before she lost her grip on the case.

With every ounce of strength she possessed, she drove the razor-sharp points into the back of Den's leg.

The butcher's son howled and dropped to his knees, spilling Ellysetta onto the floor. She landed hard. Her head cracked against the marble floor with enough force to leave her dizzy.

"Scorching thrice-damned slut!”

Ellysetta forced her eyes open. Den Brodson was sprawled on the floor nearby, his torso twisted around as he tried to pull a handful of needles out of his leg.

"Don't pull those out, you fool." The pale-haired exorcist snapped the order. "You can't enter the Well bloody. You'll drive the demons into a frenzy. Sel'dor wounds don't bleed as long as the metal stays in the flesh." Muttering a curse, Nivane started towards Ellysetta. "I'll get the girl," he barked. "Selianne, get the mother into the Well.”

Mama. Ellysetta caught a glimpse of her mother's tearstained face and the knife at her ribs. Ellysetta yanked the gag out of her mouth. "Selianne, no!" She scrambled back as Nivane approached. "Don't listen to them! Fight them! Don't let them use you for evil!”

"Don't waste your breath," Nivane sneered. "She traded her soul to the High Mage's apprentice, and through him to the High Mage himself. And now, my dear, it's time for you to renew your own acquaintance with the great Master Maur.”

Her fingers ripped at the sel'dor needles at her hips and thighs. The needles fought extraction, causing excruciating pain as she pulled them free. One ... two ... by the third, she was screaming. She flung the needles away and reached for another.

"Foolish girl. Do you really think that will help you?”

"You can't take me into the Well bloody, can you?" she countered raggedly. "And without sel'dor, my wounds will bleed.”

Nivane reached for her leg. She kicked out, but he grabbed her ankle and yanked her towards him. "True. But that just means I get the pleasure of piercing you myself.”

She kicked again, catching Nivane's jaw with the edge of her foot. His head snapped back, and blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

"Petchka!" His fist shot out. Pain exploded across the left side of her face, and the force of the blow sent her skidding backwards across the slick marble floor and halfway under the altar table. Her hands tangled in the bloody folds of Greatfather Tivrest's robes, and her fingers brushed against something hard and cold.

The scepter.

Tivrest's crystal-topped scepter, which he'd used to generate the five-fold weave around the chamber.

She was a long way from understanding the intricacies of magic, but she'd spent a lifetime reading Fey tales and Fey poetry. Crystals were objects of power. If Rain could close a demon portal by smashing the crystal that summoned it, it only stood to reason that smashing the scepter's crystal would destroy the five-fold weave it had created.

She tried to grab the scepter, but Nivane pulled her out from under the altar before she could get a good grip. She screamed as he plunged an exorcist's needle back into the bleeding wound at her hip.