She knew it for a demon right away, though not one she recognized. It was big, taller than she was, and broad through the shoulders. It walked upright like a man and in general was proportioned as one, though the resemblance ended there. Its skin was black and spiky, with clusters of spines sticking out everywhere except its face, which was flat and devoid of expression, its features buried so completely that at first glance it seemed possessed only of cold blue eyes that fixed on her with glittering intensity. It wore no clothes, but an assortment of bladed weapons was strapped about its body, some shaped in ways she had never seen. In one hand it carried a strange collar.

When it got to within ten feet, it stopped and held out the collar. Topknot appeared as if by magic to take it, walked over to Grianne, and fastened it securely about her neck. Once it was in place, the angular creature looked back at its master.

“What you wear is called a conjure collar,” said the demon that had brought it. To her surprise, it spoke in a language she recognized. “If you attempt to use your magic, it will cause you sufficient pain to make you wish you hadn’t. If you disobey me in any way, it will punish you. Nod if you understand me.”

She nodded. Topknot removed the gag. She coughed and spit to rid herself of the dryness and dust that were in her throat. Topknot studied her thoughtfully, then released the ankle chains as well.

“Get down on your knees and bow to me,” the demon said.

She wasn’t sure she had heard right and she stared in disbelief. The expressionless face looked away, and one clawed hand gestured languidly. Excruciating pain exploded all through her, radiating out from the collar like strands of barbed wire into her throat, her body, and her limbs. She screamed at the assault, unable to stop. Clutching herself, she dropped to her knees and lowered her head toward the demon.

“You will speak only when told to,” it said. “Nod if you understand.”

She nodded at once. The conjure collar no longer tore at her, but the pain lingered in small waves that rose and fell with every breath she took. She gasped with the effort required to endure it.

“When you speak to me, you will address me as Master. Nod if you understand.”

She nodded.

“Would you like some water? You may answer.”

Her jaw clenched in fury. “Yes, Master.”

“Give her water, Hobstull.” The demon’s mouth was a thin, lipless opening on the lower half of its flat, empty face. Its voice was raw and hoarse, suggestive of damage sustained by its vocal cords. There was no tonal inflection or hint of emotion.