“I would have killed another for what you did,” it said softly. “I would have taken my time doing so. I would have made the pain so unbearable that death would have come as a relief. Do you understand this?”

She swallowed. “Yes, Master.”

“But you interest me.”

It paused, and she waited for more, not yet understanding what that meant. Why would she be of any further interest? Other than the purpose she had already served in switching places with whatever creature the magic had set free from the Forbidding, what reason could the Straken Lord have for taking an interest in her?

“Do you know why you are here, inside the world of the Jarka Ruus?”

“No, Master.”

The demon gestured angrily, and again the pain ratcheted through her, inducing a wave of nausea that caused her to wretch violently as she dropped to her knees. It was on her at once, hauling her upright and slamming her against the stone wall.

“Don’t lie to me!” it hissed, fury etched on its flat features, rage mirrored in its strange eyes. “Do you think me such a fool? Speak!”

“I . . . won’t lie again, Master,” she gasped.

“You are intelligent. You are calculating. You are clever. You can pretend that you are not, but you will be disobeying me if you do and will be punished. Do you understand? Answer me.”

“I understand, Master.” Her stomach heaved, but she fought down the urge to empty it.

The Straken Lord nodded patiently. “Again, now. Do you know why you are here?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Tell me.”

“I was brought here so that something that lives in this world could be transported into my own.”

“Very good. Do you know why I arranged for this?”

She took a deep, quieting breath. “No, Master.”

The demon studied her carefully, then nodded. “Not yet, you don’t. But you will, soon enough. You will understand everything, because that inquisitive mind of yours will mull it through until the answer surfaces. If not, I will tell you myself. If you stay alive long enough for me to do so.”

If you stay alive. She closed her eyes and exhaled softly. What were the odds of that? She blinked, feeling the weight of his gaze on her, shifting from place to place, contemplative, curious. She was aware of how ragged and dirty she was, unwashed and uncombed, a used-up plaything. For an instant, she saw herself as worthless, of so little value that she deserved to be discarded without further consideration.