“For right now, though . . . it’s also immaterial. You say that once the demon is born it will hound me to my death. Well, that just adds one step to my plan. I’ll have to make sure Hazoth never becomes aware of my presence in his house—so he can’t birth the demon.”

“That’ll be a nice bit o’ work,” Kemper said, “if’n ye can pull it off.”

Malden shrugged. He hadn’t expected this to be easy. He honestly did not expect to survive the job. Yet that thought was unworthy of being dwelt upon. He had a chance, a beggar’s chance, to make this work. That was all he would allow himself to think. “It’s better that way, at any rate. Even without the demon Hazoth is perfectly capable of destroying me. This changes nothing.”

“There are other concerns as well,” Cythera said. She stared deeply into Malden’s eyes. For a moment neither of them spoke. What was she looking for? he wondered. For conviction, for self-confidence?

Eventually she closed her eyes. The downward-drooping petals of painted cyclamen blooms made her eyelids white as paper. The flowers began to wilt before she opened her eyes again. “There are the traps, in this hallway.”

Malden looked down at the map. “Kemper discovered them, though he couldn’t discern their nature. We were hoping you might tell us what they were, and thus allow me to take measures to circumvent them.”

“That hope is forlorn,” she said. “I have lived in that house most my life, but never have I walked down that hallway. Hazoth doesn’t use it himself. When he goes to his sanctum—and on those occasions when he takes me there—he transports himself directly without passing through the intervening space. The hallway is a ruse, meant to confound thieves. The traps, I know, are very real, and quite deadly. They can be disarmed by a simple mechanism inside the sanctum. There is a candle always burning there. To deactivate the traps it must be snuffed. But of course, you need to be inside the sanctum to do so. As I have no access to that room, I cannot do that for you.”

Malden nodded. “I expected to have to weather the traps myself. I have proven already—in the palace—that I can master such.”

“Indeed. Well, that leaves only two layers of defense we have not discussed. There is the magical barrier that surrounds the house and prevents anyone from entering until they have been passed by the sentries.”

“But that’s where you come in,” Malden said. “You’ll lower it for us, when the time comes.”

Cythera shook her head. “Had you come to me two days ago that might have been possible. Before Croy made a public spectacle of his desire to slay Hazoth.”

On the bed, the knight turned his head away.