I raised my hand and let it fall with a sense of futility. ‘‘I don’t see that any good will come of talking about what’s past. What’s done is done, and there’s nothing we can do to change it.’’

‘‘But, Mayling, you don’t see,’’ she said, scooting out of the bed, taking my hand and giving it a little squeeze. ‘‘Just because I was . . . I had . . . because Magoth . . .’’

‘‘You were enthralled, about to be made consort,’’ I said, finishing the sentence she was so clearly unable to say for herself.

‘‘Yes. And because of that, you were created, not that I’ve regretted that at all. You’re like the sister I never had.’’

I couldn’t help but smile. Sometimes I wondered what she would have been like if she hadn’t given up her common sense.

Her expression turned dark, her gaze dropping as she added in a lower tone, ‘‘And . . . people died.’’

‘‘It’s over, Cy.’’

‘‘No,’’ she said stubbornly, shaking her head. ‘‘I have to say it. Because Magoth enthralled me . . . because I had given in to him, he made me kill my lover.’’

I watched as she wrapped her arms around herself, sinking onto the edge of the bed. I hated for her to indulge in emotional flagellation, but she needed to understand once and for all just what sort of situation I was in.

‘‘But that doesn’t have anything to do with you,’’ she said after a few moments of silent weeping.

I handed her a box of tissues from the nightstand.

‘‘My downfall, my sins, are not reflected on you, you know that. And just because you work for Magoth doesn’t mean he’ll try—’’

‘‘He already has,’’ I interrupted.

Her eyes grew large as she looked up to me in horror.

‘‘No, he hasn’t succeeded yet; I’ve managed to keep my wits about me despite his seductions. But it’s been a very close thing the last couple of times, Cy, and to be perfectly frank, I don’t know that I’ll be able to withstand the next one.’’

Her mouth formed a perfect O.

I nodded. ‘‘So you see why it is that I can’t get involved with any man. The minute Magoth pulls me into his thrall, he’ll use me to destroy a challenger to his domination . . . and that means any lover, any boyfriend, any husband, would be doomed.’’

‘‘Oh, my poor Mayling, my poor, innocent Mayling.’’ Huge tears rolled down her cheeks. ‘‘But . . . this evening . . . the wyvern . . .’’

‘‘Picked the wrong woman to have a future with,’’ I said, my face placid despite the fact that my soul was weeping tears of the purest sorrow.

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

‘‘It’s not fair,’’ I said, closing the door to my room, intent on venting my spleen the only way I could—to an empty room.