“For now, yes, I will and I do, but for always?” Rhosh pulled away from her. “There will come a time when I will destroy the Prince and take that lying demon spirit Amel out of him! And this boy is far too valuable to hand to them on a silver platter. That I will not do.”

“Well, I’m with you in your opposition,” said Roland, his voice colder and nastier than the voices of the others. He gazed mockingly at Derek and gave Derek one of his usual vicious smiles. “And if you want to hold on to this valuable hostage, I understand it. But don’t go cutting him to pieces.”

“To pieces, no,” said Rhosh. “But the removal of one piece might do wonders.”

He lunged forward. Allesandra screamed. There was no escape for Derek. Rhoshamandes brought him up to his feet, turned him around, and flung him at the wall. “You don’t have the strength of your friend Garekyn, do you?” Rhoshamandes whispered in his ear, his hand against Derek’s back. “Or is it confidence you lack?”

Derek clawed helplessly at the stone.

The blow came without warning. The pain exploded in Derek’s shoulder, and once again Allesandra screamed and this time she didn’t stop screaming. For one instant Derek prayed to die, to perish so that it was all over. He heard his own scream mingled with that of Allesandra, and the world went dark, but only for an instant.

He woke to find himself slumped on the floor and the pain in his shoulder throbbing unbearably and, with utter horror, he saw his own left arm lying on the floor, the fingers of his left hand curled inward, a piece of lifeless meat wrapped in the filthy white shirtsleeve.

His eyes rolled up into his head. Their voices were so much babble, and he slid into darkness.

Far away, he heard a woman pleading. “Now Benedict will never come back to you, don’t you see? Oh, when did you ever become so cruel! And this cannot be undone and for all time now this being will exist maimed and robbed of his arm and you have done this, you, my master, my maker.” She was crying. Far away, she cried.

Then they were all speaking at once.

“No…no, look, the wound’s healed, he’s not bleeding.”

Derek was dreaming. Jungles. With the others, laughing together, talking, stopping to pick the fruit from the trees, large yellow fruit. So luscious and sweet. No, here in this horrid place, and their voices…

Derek’s eyes opened before he could will them to do so.