to imagine being confined in that space for an unspecified time with Shelejiah, compelled to channel magics for her customers. When his body shuddered involuntarily, she smiled even bigger and appeared to be eagerly awaiting his answer.
Turning that over and over in his mind made him feel nauseous. Since he’d never felt a dread or revulsion so profound that it caused a physical reaction, it was a unique experience. The idea of the fate Shelejiah described struck him as worse than death. Much worse.
Yet, when he opened his mouth to speak, the raggedly raspy response was a quiet, “Yes.”
Shelejiah’s laughed. “Well, demon. Congratulations are in order. You’re only the second customer in history to enjoy my service free of charge.” She doused two matching wristbands with the liquid she’d just funneled into a tincture bottle. “I’m a sucker for true love.”
She handed him the wristbands. “Put those on right now so you don’t lose them.”
He placed the two wristbands on his left wrist and pulled the sleeve of his Henley down so that they were hidden.
A third wristband was doused with drops from the tincture bottle, but to that one she added a small raven-shaped silver charm. “Put this one on your other wrist. If you decide to leave Quicksilver in the clouds, just drop that one in the Dead Sea. The salt will neutralize the magic. If you decide to sentence him to being my familiar, give him that wristband. It has what you might call a homing device. He’ll have no choice but to come straight here. And when he does, I’ll see to it that he’s sorry he tried to take the girl.”
Lyric felt like he’d just been released from death row. With a deep inhalation, he said, “Thank you.”
“And you be sure to tell her to remember me kindly when she comes into her own. It never hurts to have powerful friends.”
Lyric nodded. “How do I, ah, find my way?”
“Oh. Easy sneezy. Go to the Isle of Manx in Forswear Dimension. There’s nothing on the island except for a single door. Open it, step across the threshold, and you will be in the Thracian clouds.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN The Battle of Evermore
Quicksilver scrambled to his feet when a sound like a sonic boom shook the clouds like an earthquake. He had no idea where Shivaun was or how long she’d been gone. It could have been hours or days.
Apparently having decided that anything was better than the sight of him, she’d conjured a bottle of fine Irish whiskey and walked off.
A similar boom had occurred just as Quicksilver and Shivaun arrived in the clouds, but the soundwaves had dissipated by the time the demons were fully present. Quicksilver had no way to know the boom signaled a new arrival and was on alert.
The moment Lyric set foot in the Thracian clouds, his link with Shivaun was reestablished. The uncomfortable emptiness he’d felt was immediately flooded with relief and happiness.
“Shivaun!” he called out.
Shivaun had fallen into a drunken stupor after imbibing the entire bottle of Irish whiskey and willing herself to feel the effects the way a human would. Having surrendered to the blissful numbness of sleep, she lay on a bed of clouds that conformed perfectly to her horizontal form and never heard Lyric call.
Quicksilver turned his head toward the sound of the music demon’s voice, gritted his teeth and said under his breath, “Not fond of meddling music demons who don’t know when they’re bested.”
That was followed by the thought that the fellow might have accidentally bumbled his way into bringing an exit ticket with him.
“Congratulations.” Lyric turned at the sound of the other demon’s voice and faced him. “It’s one thing to find your way here. Another to go when you want to go.” Quicksilver angled his head to the side mimicking curiosity or thoughtfulness. “Do you have a way out?”
“Where is she?” Lyric demanded.
Quicksilver waved his hand. “Gone off somewhere.” He smiled. “Didn’t enjoy my company I guess.”
“Imagine that. Which way did she go?”
“Don’t remember. Now about the question of getting out of here? Do you have a plan for leaving?” Lyric deliberately glanced at the band with the raven charm dangling from his right wrist and noticed that Quicksilver’s eyes followed. “Or is the plan that we’re to be a ménage à trois for a very long time?”
“My plans are none of your concern. I’m going to find my mate. And I’m warning you, do not follow.”