“Now, one of the earls of Glamis was a half-demon. Baal’s own child. As Eve knows, even the lord demons have little contact with their offspring. That doesn’t keep them from watching from afar, as Balam does, but it is rare for any cacodemon to play a role in his child’s life. Glamis, though, sought out that contact, and made a very persuasive argument for Baal to do otherwise, providing him with sacrifices and proving as dutiful a son as any father could want. Eventually, Baal took notice, and when Glamis had his father’s attention, he asked for a boon. He would sacrifice a dozen men to Baal, not just killing them, but walling them up. As modes of death go, the only thing more terrible than being buried alive is being buried with others. The…animal instinct eventually asserts itself, providing a veritable feast of chaos.”

I remembered those skeletons in the room, and the teeth marks on the bones. When I shuddered, Aratron studied my reaction with the impassive curiosity of a scientist.

“The boon,” Trsiel said. “What did he ask in return?”

“Ah, well, it had to do with a lady, as these things often do. A married lady who was proving most resistant to his advances. Glamis, being an avid student of Arthurian lore, took his solution from there.”

“He wanted to be able to assume the form of the lady’s husband,” I said. “That’s where Dantalian came in. His specialty is transmigration. Not assuming another form, but possessing one.”

Aratron smiled. “That’s it exactly. Baal went to Dantalian and demanded that he create something to allow Glamis to inhabit another man’s body. This is, of course, a skill every demon possesses.” He waved a hand at his current form—probably that of a prison guard. “But for a half-demon it is impossible. Baal charged Dantalian with the task of making it possible. And he did. He created a piece of jewelry.”

“An amulet,” I whispered. “One that would allow anyone with demon blood to fully possess the body of any living person.”

“Very good. You’ve heard of it, then?”

Before I could answer, Trsiel cut in. “But if Dantalian made the amulet, why did Baal imprison him?”

“Because Glamis never got that necklace. As for why, I fear that is a question only Dantalian and Baal could answer. Some say Dantalian had a follower among the Ogilvies—the clan Glamis walled up. Some say Baal denied him a share of the sacrifice. Whatever the reason, Dantalian changed his mind and secreted away the amulet, and for that, Baal sentenced him to spend five hundred and fifty-five years walled up in that room with the Ogilvies.”

“That’s what the Nix wants,” I said, turning to Trsiel. “Dantalian’s Amulet.”

And I’d been the one who’d told her about it.