Part 18 (1/2)
h.e.l.l, it was the first time she'd ever been away from her father's vast palace.
She should have been freaking out.
Shouldn't she?
But while she'd tried to convince herself that he must be some sort of deranged beast who'd stolen her from her home for G.o.d only knew what sort of perverted reason, she couldn't truly make herself believe he was intending her harm.
She hadn't spent much time with Cyn, but while the ma.s.sive clan chief was obviously a terrifying predator, she'd easily sensed he posed no danger.
No, that wasn't true, she wryly conceded.
He posed all sorts of dangers, not the least of which was the unwelcome excitement that sizzled through her whenever he happened to glance in her direction.
But she didn't for a second believe he would physically hurt her.
Not unless he believed she was a threat to his people.
The tiny demon in front of her, however, had just sent a chill of terror straight down her spine.
She knew of the Commission, of course.
Unlike most Chatri, the pure-blooded ancestors of the fey, Fallon had never been content with her secluded existence. Others might be happy in her father's royal palace, surrounded by lush gardens and meadows that were drenched in perpetual suns.h.i.+ne, but for her it was all too . . . flawlessly monotonous.
There was only so much perfection a woman could endure before she became bored out of her mind. Which meant that Fallon had been driven to develop a secret life just to keep her sanity.
No one among her people knew that she'd created a hidden chamber where she honed her skill at scrying until she could not only peer into other dimensions, but she could also maintain several images at once.
Over the years she'd spent endless hours studying this world, fascinated by the rapidly changing cultures while her own life remained stagnant. She'd even kept up on the current fads and speech patterns, telling herself that she might have the opportunity to visit this world, even when she'd known deep in her heart that her father would never allow her to leave their homeland.
Now she wondered if she'd been mistaken in her belief that the powerful Oracles were both wise and fair leaders for the demon world.
”What would be the point of trancing you?” she demanded in confusion.
Siljar regarded her with an unblinking gaze. It was . . . creepy.
”My guess would be that they want us in the Council Room,” she said.
She forced herself not to wilt beneath that basilisk stare. ”Why?”
”It's the place we gather to share information, and to settle disputes between demons,” Siljar explained, abruptly pacing across the cave with jerky movements. As if she was trying to contain her emotions. ”And in extreme cases it's where we share our power.”
”Do you think it could be a demon who is trying to influence you to judge in his favor?” Cyn abruptly demanded.
”It is possible. We are currently negotiating a land treaty between the mountain ogres and the woodland sprites.” Siljar gave a sharp shake of her head. Swish. Swish. Her white robe brushed the uneven floor. ”But in truth, I fear the plot is far more nefarious.”
”Nefarious?” Cyn demanded.
Siljar nodded. ”I think someone is trying to force the Commission to combine their powers to cast a spell.”
Cyn grimaced. ”Who or what could have the necessary strength to influence the entire Commission?”
Siljar halted her pacing, regaining her composure to turn and meet the vampire's troubled frown.
”That's what I need you to discover.”
”You want me to spy on the Oracles?” Cyn rasped.
”Of course not,” Siljar chided. ”I want Fallon to spy on them.”
Fallon's mouth dropped open, her blood running cold. ”Me?”
Siljar lifted a brow. ”You are a master at scrying, are you not?”
Oh . . . d.a.m.n.
”How did you-”
”I know many things, my dear,” Siljar smoothly interrupted.
Fallon shuffled beneath the dark, steady gaze. What else did the tiny demon know about her? Not that Fallon had an exciting enough life to h.o.a.rd many secrets, but still . . .
Cyn sent her a searching glance, as if surprised that she might have an actual skill.
Jerk.
”What does a master of scrying mean?”
Siljar answered. ”Fallon can keep track of the Oracles, even when they travel between dimensions.”
He didn't look particularly impressed. ”How will that help?”
”She can see if there is anyone in particular who has contact with all of the Oracles,” Siljar explained. ”Or if there is someplace they travel where they could be manipulated.”
”How close does she have to be to scry?” Cyn demanded of the Oracle.
Fallon muttered a low curse. Had she suddenly become invisible?
”Distance doesn't matter,” she informed the vampire, not about to be treated as if she couldn't speak for herself. She'd had enough of that at her father's court. ”The only thing I need is a location to start.”
Without warning, Siljar was moving to stand directly in front of Fallon, her hand reaching to press against her cheek.