kicked over a child’s sandcastle. “That was nothing. I merely needed to get your attention.”
Simon glared at the demon from behind his glasses. They magnified his eyes and made him look like a balding white bug. “You have our attention, demon.”
Donna didn’t want to be sitting at a table with Simon Gaunt. She didn’t want to be on his “side.” Truth be told, she didn’t want to pick sides—not if it meant more innocent people were going to suffer. Or die.
She noticed Taran’s companion, Cathal, watching her, and flushed when he didn’t look away. He nodded, very slightly, as though acknowledging her in some way. She frowned at him. What did a faery knight want with her?
Demian stood up. Demon shadows stirred against the wall, their heads turning eerily in his direction.
“Let me make this simple,” he said. “I want two things and I will get them. If I do not get them, I will grind the human world beneath my heel and turn every human that remains into a shadow, to serve me in my Court of Fire.”
Simon was squeezing his hand so tightly around his goblet that Donna thought he would smash it, as if he were the one who had the iron tattoos and super-strength. “You cannot threaten us here,” Simon declared. “This realm is neutral territory, and the only reason we agreed to come without a fight was because of your promises. You—”
“Do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do, Magus,” Demian spat. “You are fortunate, indeed, that we are Halfway. I would enjoy removing your head from your shoulders and keeping you alive, as you have done with my people.”
Donna stifled a gasp, her mind flashing to Newton. Trapping demons in the human realm … was this something that other alchemists had done, too? She clenched her hands in her lap and stayed silent, thinking about the creepy head carved out of bronze that served as a half-alive security system in Simon Gaunt’s laboratory. She’d first encountered Newton with Xan, when all the statue had done was scream to alert the Magus to their unauthorized entry into the lab. But then, during her trial, Donna and Navin had actually spoken with the statue, and discovered that a demon’s essence was trapped inside—summoned and then snared by Simon, who used the demon to serve him and provide him with knowledge of the Otherworld.
Demian’s steward slipped quietly away, and returned moments later.
“It seems we have a late arrival,” he declared, sounding excited, bored, and put out all at the same time. Which was no mean feat, Donna thought.
Demian sighed. “Fine. Admit him.”
“Her, My Lord.”
The wall shimmered and the door appeared, allowing the newest member of the gathering to walk serenely into the room.
Rachel Underwood lowered the hood of her emerald cloak and shook out her unbound red hair. The strange lighting above her head made it look as though fire cascaded down her back.
“Mom!” Donna didn’t give a damn about ceremony. Just let Miranda—or Simon—try to stop her.
She ran to her mother and the two women embraced. Rachel pressed a kiss to Donna’s forehead and then another on her cheek, before they finally pulled apart and regarded one another. It had only been a month, but to Donna it seemed so much longer.
Her mother smiled, ignoring the irritated expression on Simon’s face. “You look beautiful.”
Donna shook her head. “No way, you’re the one who looks beautiful. I see you got your dress back.”
Rachel shrugged, still smiling. She’d unclasped her long cloak to reveal the forest-green dress that Donna had found in the chest in Aunt Paige’s study.
“This is all very touching,” the steward finally said, sounding anything but touched, “but can we proceed? You are late.”
Rachel raised her eyebrows, full of a haughty grandeur that surprised Donna. “Please accept my apologies—I had some difficulties with my transportation.” Donna couldn’t miss the look in her mother’s eyes when she glanced at Simon.
Simon, for his part, looked as though he were about to explode. His forehead had gone shiny and his cheeks were almost purple.
Miranda leaned toward him. “Is there a problem, Magus?”
Her tone was deferential, but Donna was pretty sure she caught a hint of amusement.
The Magus seemed to have gotten himself back under control. “Rachel, what a pleasant surprise.”
“Surely not a surprise, Simon,” she replied, making no attempt to disguise her disdain. “I was scheduled to accompany you in Quentin’s place, after all.”
“I was unaware of that,” Simon replied smoothly. “How fortunate that