Johnis watched as Silvie pushed Billos into her horse’s saddle, then Darsal onto Johnis’s horse. Silvie looked back at him, apprehension cut into her face. “Don’t let him kill you, Johnis. Promise me.”

What could he say to that?

“Please, just say it.”

“I promise,” he said. Then to Teeleh, “Give them their swords.”

Another hesitation. Another nod. Two bats tossed the blades to Silvie and Billos, who dropped his. The bat hissed and shoved the sword at Darsal, who handled it well enough.

The Shataiki parted to form a path through the stadium seats, and Silvie led the way, straight up the same trail they’d arrived on. At the top she whirled and her horse reared back, nearly dumping Billos off his back.

“Promise me, Johnis!” she cried.

“I promise!” His voice echoed through the stadium with determination. But in reality, he had no clue how to keep a promise that might also give Teeleh the book. His mind was on another promise: Teeleh had just promised to kill him, and Michal had said that when it was his time to die, he wouldn’t care. But that sounded hollow in his ears. He did care, very much.

Then the two horses galloped from sight. All was quiet again except for the sounds of whispering from the thousands of Shataiki in the stands. A sea of red eyes watching, waiting. And on the platform, Johnis stood completely lost, ten feet from the huge vampire beast with draping black wings.

“Where is the book?” Teeleh finally asked.

“My deal was to tell you once they are safe in the desert. It’ll take them at least half an hour.”

“Why delay the inevitable?”

“When Silvie arrives safely at the desert, she’ll blow her horn,” Johnis said. “And if you think one of your bats can counterfeit the call, don’t kid yourself. If I don’t hear her horn within the hour, our deal is off.”

Teeleh regarded him with his blank red eyes, standing perfectly still, like a lizard waiting for a fly to happen by. Looking at his mangy, flea-infested fur, Johnis wondered how old his carcass was. The legends had it that Teeleh had once been the most beautiful creature made by Elyon, and it had all gone to his head. Now look at him. His black skin looked like the rotting hide cut from a dead horse.

Skirmishes broke out among the bats as time slipped by. A huge battle over some disagreement in a far corner filled the stadium with such a ruckus that Johnis wondered whether the whole arena might erupt in fighting. Teeleh ignored it as if this sort of thing was to be expected among his subjects. Even welcomed.

Ten of the Shataiki ended up on the stadium floor in bloody heaps. The rest fixed their eyes back on Johnis and paid the dead bats no mind.