Nine cage doors stood open, each with the rotting remains of a soldier she’d fed upon. The last two precious meals, a bearded male and a blond female, blinked in the glow of her light as she approached them. Rhazat stood a moment, trying to decide which sort of life she was in the mood for. Then the female began to cry and that decided her.

“Poor dear,” Rhazat said with mock concern as she touched the lock on her cage. “The strain is too much for you, isn’t it? Come, let me grant you peace.”

“Leave her alone!” the male snarled, reaching through the bars, clawing the air in her direction. “Take me, you bitch.”

“Are you in such a hurry to die?”

“No, Captain,” the female said, fighting to regain control of herself. “It’s my turn and I’m ready. I can’t stand another moment in this cursed place.”

She walked out of the cage to stand at attention before Rhazat, who laughed merrily at such posturing.

“Really, my dear, does it matter so much if you die with your head held high?”

“It does to me.”

“As you wish.” Rhazat grasped the woman’s head between her hands and pressed her lips to her brow, gasping with pleasure as the life force flowed into her. When it was done, she dumped the carcass back into the cage and licked her lips.

“You might as well eat me, too,” the male said, bravado spent. It sounded quite dispirited.

“I shall. Your friend wasn’t nearly as filling as I’d hoped.”

As she’d anticipated, he came out fighting, but she still had enough strength to hold him by the throat and kiss away his life.

She climbed the stairs to her chamber feeling positively spritely, then made her way down the main stair to the receiving hall, calling for Klia. “Come, my dear. Time for your luncheon!”

When no answer came, Rhazat shrugged and went to the kitchen. If Klia was in the tower, she would have answered. She made no attempt to hide from her.

In the kitchen she carved the remaining meat from the arm of the male she’d dined on two days before and transformed it into acceptable fare for her guest. Not so nourishing as it would have been as a direct source, but she could hardly expect Klia to willingly dine on her own people. Drawing the essence of the meat forth, Rhazat molded it into a sparrow pudding and a quince tart.

When Klia still had not returned in time for the evening meal, Rhazat sent out a dra’gorgos, which soon returned with the limp body of the princess in its arms. She appeared to be in a faint. At Rhazat’s gesture, the dra’gorgos placed Klia on the floor of the receiving chamber and disappeared.