“What do you mean, no? I command you to remove it at once!”

“Say please.” A smile creased his face as a plan took shape. Another aftershock. Another scream. The smile widened. Blazing fury erupted in Dai She’s bloodred eyes, but he was helpless and he knew it.

“Please,” he growled.

With all the tender loving care of a sculptor wielding a chisel, Markhor began removing the map, pausing only once as another aftershock rippled under the surface. He had not known the last Wandmaker to wear it and was thoroughly dumbfounded when he discovered why it caused so much pain.

While the map was two-dimensional to the eye, it was three-dimensional in effect. The upper surface showed changes to topography—forests thinning, cities expanding, rivers widening and contracting. The opposite side reacted to shifts in tectonic plates. As Markhor separated the map from Dai She, the underside folded along a crease into a knifelike edge, catching a sizable slab of skin in a firm, pinching grasp.

Dai She screamed in agony until the crease released its hold, leaving behind a fresh, raw welt. With one corner to go, Markhor paused again.

“Why are you stopping? Remove this abomination at once!” he wailed.

“Not until you tell me the details of your plan.” Markhor stepped away, dangling the Corsini Wand like a carrot.

“I will tell you what you need to know only when you need to know. And that is my decision to make. Not yours.”

“Fine. Then I’ll just leave the map right where it is.” He edged the wand toward his pants pocket.

“You can’t leave it like this! It will become damaged! Then everything will be ruined!”

“Then make me your partner. Give me the information, or I swear I will leave you here in the middle of the desert and your precious vulture can pick your bones clean.” Markhor’s tone had the hardness of steel with an edge of undeniable truth.

Dai She’s eyes darted to the road they had traveled and the mountains yet to come. A temper tantrum of epic proportions welled inside. Viktor had seen that look before, and edged slowly out of sight behind the car, wishing he were inside the trunk with the falcon.

But Dai She knew that as long as Markhor had the Corsini Wand, he also had the upper hand. “All right.” His teeth gnashed like the sound of grating sand. “I will tell you.”

Markhor smiled again and withdrew a small blue wand from his pocket. “And you will tell me the truth.”

Dai She recognized it as a Wahrheit Wand—named for the German word for truth. A rich, dark blue, it was constructed from the gemstone spinel. On its own, spinel contained no natural power, but when etched with the correct sequence of ancient Germanic symbols, it became an extremely powerful tool. In the right hands, the crystals would glow in the presence of a lie.