“Can you still see it?” asked Klia.

Mika looked back. “Yes. I—Oh no! Klia, run!”

She looked back and saw four dra’gorgos bearing down on them, mounted on ghostly horses. She knew it was probably hopeless, but instinctively grabbed Mika’s hand and began to run. In an instant, however, a reeking blackness overcame them and she felt herself swept off her feet into the air, though she couldn’t see a thing. Mika was calling her name, but she no longer had hold of his hand.

“I’m here, Mika!” she shouted back. “Be brave.”

Blinded and chilled to the bone, Klia could still feel that they were moving at a great speed, though she could not tell the direction.

“Klia!”

“I’m still here, Mika.”

Their strange journey was a brief one. The dra’gorgos set her on her feet and disappeared. She was in the cave again, facing the seal, and the dyrmagnos.

“Welcome, Highness. And you, too, child,” Rhazat said.

Mika was a few yards away, and Klia ran to him and put an arm around his shoulders. “Leaving was my idea. He only went with me because I made him go. You don’t need to punish him.”

“Punish him?” Rhazat laughed. “Why would I do that? You know I don’t begrudge you your little walks around my domain. I can always find you when I need you. And I need you now. You know why.”

Klia clutched Mika’s hand harder as a wave of despair rolled over her; it was clear enough what Rhazat’s plan was. Her worst fears were realized when a dra’gorgos suddenly appeared and snatched Mika away, holding him in an inexorable grip as it drifted across the cave to Rhazat. She grasped Mika’s left hand and twisted. Mika’s scream of pain drowned out the sound of barely mending bones snapping.

“No, please!” Klia cried out as the dra’gorgos caught her and kept her from leaping to the boy’s defense.

Rhazat laughed her silvery laugh.

“Klia, help!” Mika sobbed, struggling to escape, left arm flopping horribly.

“Illior!” Klia cried in anguish.

“The Four have no hold here,” sneered the dyrmagnos.

“Please, please stop. I—” She caught the words behind her teeth, sick at heart beyond telling.

Es rili … a voice—a woman’s voice—suddenly whispered in Klia’s mind.

Es rili …

“Klia!” Mika cried. “Please, help me!”

“Yes, help him,” Rhazat gave her a soulless smile that contrasted horribly with her sweet voice. “You would die to deny me, and let your unborn child die with you. But can you bear this?”

At a wave of her hand, another dra’gorgos took filmy shape before Mika. Slowly, sinuously, it extended a finger of mist toward Mika’s face and Klia saw a wisp tickle its way into Mika’s nostrils as the child’s cries rose to shrieks of terror.

ES RILI!

“Sakor help us!” Klia screamed.