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It took a few moments for the pounding on the door and the rasping voice crying from the other side to break through the rush of blood and too-fast pounding of his heart. There was a splintering crash, and the door burst inward.
“Police,” he heard. “Don’t move!”
Jason stared at the blank screen as relief flooded his sense. Then he threw his head back and began to laugh.
General Vale stared at the sorceress in disbelief.
“Gone? Our contact is gone? What does that mean? Can’t you break through somehow and get it back?”
Makeeda shook her head. Her expression was unreadable. Her hands were buried deep in the folds of her gown. Vale considered having her seized and searched and trying the device himself, but he knew there was no point. If she couldn’t make it work, it was over.
“It does not matter,” she said. “I witnessed the capture of Mavis before the co
“I would have told you that the first day we spoke of this,” Vale growled. “I would have been wrong, and this citadel would already be in enemy hands, ruled by that upstart Colin. I no longer trust the obvious.”
“Trust me,” Makeeda purred, stepping closer and sliding around him in slow circles. Her robes teased over the leather of his boots, and her hair brushed his shoulder in passing. Vale’s eyes narrowed. She continued, “I am never obvious.”
Makeeda curled herself in under his arm and the two of them stood there, very close, and watched the security monitors. A scout burst from the trees and not far behind him the small force Vale had sent to capture the rebel princess followed. Vale allowed himself a single ill-formed smile before unwinding Makeeda from his arm and heading down to greet his unwilling guest. Perhaps things would go well after all.
Mavis was beautiful. She was still dressed in battle gear, though her armor had been stripped from her, and her arms were bound behind her with straps of leather. Her long hair flowed down her back, and her eyes flashed fire. Vale gri
Makeeda said nothing. She stood in the corner, her lips pressed very tightly together and her brow knit in a tight frown. Every few moments she pulled the small vision cube from her pocket and shook it, but there was nothing. Not even a dim glow met her gaze. Every time Vale ran his gaze up and down the prisoner’s lithe form, Makeeda shook the device in her hand harder.
“So, we finally meet,” Vale said softly. “I had hoped to speak with your brother, as well, but he… fell on his way inside.”
Mavin struggled fiercely. Her eyes blazed again, and Vale laughed.
“If I’d known how lovely you were, I’d have taken you long ago,” he said, leering.
“They will take this citadel,” she grated, “and they will burn you as you burned my brother. You and your little witch.” Mavin spat toward Makeeda, who merely stepped back out of range. Vale only laughed.
Then he stepped closer, and though she struggled wildly, she was held as he lifted her chin, inspected her more closely, and shook his head.
“Not right for a warrior,” he said dismissively, “but there are other ways you can serve.”
He turned to his men.
“Take her to my chambers. Bind her to the bed. I will deal with her myself.”
Makeeda started forward. Her lips parted, and then clamped shut. Vale turned to her, as if daring her to argue. Their gazes locked, and Makeeda turned away. She left the room quickly. Vale watched her go, smiled, and turned back to his men.
“Prepare the defenses. They will be here soon enough to try and retrieve their princess. We will be ready for them.”
Turning, Vale strode back up the stairs to the control center. His smile was very wide.
When the defenses were set, and his scouts had reported, General Vale set a watch and climbed the stairs to his chambers. He’d been distracted by the moments to come since Mavis had entered the citadel, and he could wait no longer.
He entered his chambers, dropped his sword and weapons on a table in the outer room, and stepped to the doorway of his bedroom. The lights were dim, but he made out Mavis’ form, bound hand and foot atop the furs, and he smiled.
He stepped closer and seated himself on the edge of the bed. Her rough gear had been cut or stripped away. She wore only a swath of silk about her middle. She stared at him defiantly, but he saw the fear that hovered just beneath the thin veneer of her courage, and licked his lips. It would be a memorable night-a small battle before finally wi
“I have waited for this a long time,” he said, turning and pressing his hand into the mattress on the far side of her body, staring down at her in dark hunger.
“So have I,” she whispered. With a cry, Mavin lunged. Her left hand, which had appeared to be bound tightly to the headboard, hurtled forward. The sharp blade of a long, thin dagger dug into his chest and she dragged it down, crying out with each rending drag of knife through his flesh.
Vale drew back, bellowing in pain and anger, but the dagger had found its mark. He held out a hand to her, gasped, and then stared dumbly as blood poured between his lips with his breath.
“No,” he croaked. “This is impossible. I’m… invincible.”
Mavin watched him, and then turned her gaze to the curtained window just beyond him on the far wall. Makeeda stepped from behind the curtains. Her eyes glittered, and she watched impassively as her lord fell to his knees, tried to speak, failed… and died.
Mavin watched her warily, but Makeeda paid no attention to the bound prisoner. She pulled the talisman from her robes and stared at it. The images had not returned, but it had regained its glow. There were two words, floating in the center of the screen, bouncing from one wall to the other as if trying to escape.
She read fiery script out loud, and without warning, the sorceress began to laugh.
“Game Over.”
She tossed the cube into the pooled blood on Vale’s chest and turned, striding quickly from the room and disappearing into the shadows.
ADVISERS AT NAPTIME by Kristine Kathryn Rusch
It was time for Carol’s nap. They always forgot her nap. Mommy says every kid needs a nap. Carol used to hate naps, but now she’s tired. All she wanted was her blankie, her cuddly dog, and her squishy pillow.
And Mommy. They never let Mommy into the playroom with her.
They said Mommy sat outside, but once they left the door unlocked and Carol got out. She was in a cold hallway that looked like a giant tube or something. No chairs, icky white lights, and a hard gray floor.
No Mommy, no guards, no one to hear if she cried.
She stamped her foot and screamed. Everybody came ru
“You lied,” she said, pointing her finger at Mommy in that way Mommy said was rude and mean. “You promised. You’d be right here. You said!”
Mommy got all flustered. Her cheeks got kinda pink when she was flustered and she messed with her hair, twirling it even though she yelled at Carol for doing the same thing.
“I meant,” Mommy said in that voice she gets when she’s upset, “I’d be able to see you all the time.”
“You said-”
“I know what I said, honey.” Mommy looked at one of the guards-they’re these big guys with square faces and these weird helmets you could see through. They also had big guns on their sides, latched down so nobody can grab them away-and then she looked back at Carol. “I meant I’d be able to see you. I’m sorry I said it wrong.”