Sted stood in the doorway. He was shirtless, and his cape was gone. For a moment, Miranda could only stare in horror at the hideous thing growing out of his shoulder. The black skin, as hard and polished as scorched glass, was so alien, so beyond what she expected, that Sted had walked almost all the way to where Eli was trapped in the water before she realized it was his arm. With that realization, everything else fell into place, and she flung out her hand. At once, Durn threw himself back, sliding along Allinora’s mossy bed to rest beside Miranda, Eli safely squeezed between the layers of rock and water. The thief started to protest, but Mellinor’s water covered his head before he could speak. Never taking her eyes off the intruder, Miranda nodded in thanks. Now was not the time for distractions.
“I knew something was wrong with you,” she said, stepping between Sted and Eli, who was bubbling furiously under Mellinor’s water. “But I never thought Izo’d actually be stupid enough to employ a demonseed. It must be an idiocy common within the criminal element.”
Behind her, Eli made a sound that was half burble, half scoff, and she flicked Durn’s ring. There was a loud scrape as the rock closed over Eli’s head, trapping him inside a cocoon of stone as well as water. Miranda nodded. Mellinor could give him enough oxygen to keep him from drowning for ten minutes at least, and she was taking no chances.
Sted stood where Durn had been, glaring at her with eyes that were far too bright for the dim room. “I serve no man but myself,” he sneered. “I’m here for the thief. Hand him over.”
“Never,” Miranda said, pulling Allinora’s moss back into her ring, away from the monster at the door. “Eli Monpress is under arrest by the authority of the Spirit Court and the Council of Thrones.”
“Really?” Sted’s voice was slow and sharp, like a knife working through frozen flesh. “And are you ready to die to keep him?”
Gin snarled beside her, and Miranda couldn’t help baring her teeth as well. “I couldn’t do my duty if I wasn’t,” she said. “Leave now or I’ll call the whole deal off and Izo will never be king.”
Sted threw back his head and laughed, a horrible, hollow sound that rattled up from deep in his chest. “Izo?” he cried. “Who cares about Izo? Weren’t you listening, girl? I’m here for the thief, preferably alive, but I’ll take what I can get. Your fate I’m far less picky about. Move.” He took a menacing step forward, heavy boots creaking on the bare plank floor. “Now.”
Miranda held her ground, hands clenched in sweaty fists around her rings. Spiritualists didn’t fight demonseeds; it was too risky. But she could not back down. Not now, not when she had Eli. Her resolve was set, and Gin must have felt it, for before she could open her mouth to answer Sted’s threat, the ghosthound lunged forward.
It was a tight jump. The little room wasn’t large enough for Gin to turn around in let alone get any momentum for a flying attack, but Miranda would never have known it. Gin sprang from a standstill, a shifting blur of claws and teeth aimed straight for Sted’s neck. Sted had nowhere to dodge and no time to duck before the dog’s teeth sank into his neck and shoulders.
They fell backward, Sted stumbling into the splintered remains of the door with Gin on top of him, the ghosthound’s teeth lodged in his torso. Miranda felt like cheering. Gin knew as well as she did that the only way to win this was to take Sted down in one blow, before he could eat them or terrify her spirits into submission. From where she stood, it looked like the hound had done just that. Even demonseeds went down when you ripped them in half. But then, just when it looked like Sted was done for, Gin yelped and jumped back, slamming against the rear wall of the house in a scramble of legs and wild shifting fur.
“Bastard!” the dog roared.
Gin’s muzzle was slick with blood, which wasn’t surprising, considering he’d just bitten a man through to the ribs, but this was too much. Gin coughed, bringing up more blood as he circled to face Sted again, his head low and cautious, as though he were the one who’d just taken a blow instead of dealt one. Across the room, Sted stood up, a superior grin on his face. Gin’s bite draped across his neck and shoulders like a bloody shawl, but the holes were closing as Miranda watched.
“Not fast enough?” she asked quietly.
“No, I got him,” Gin snarled, sending blood across the floor. “Bastard let me get him. Let me get in good before he started to eat.”
He coughed again, adding more blood to the pool on the floor. “I don’t get it,” he panted. “I could feel him eating me. It was just like before, with Monpress’s girl. But there’s no fear.”