The three Androktasiai stared at her, saying nothing. Nora took a deep breath. “I could create a Heykeli, siphon the essence of Damastes into it. He could fight for us. He’d fight with all the rage and power that a murder god possesses. But I’d keep a tight rein on him. Plus he’d be expendable—or at least his body would. If the Phonoi destroyed the murder golem … I mean, his physical form … I’d take him back into me again. No harm done.”
She had spoken quickly, her voice getting increasingly louder as the Androktasiai had realized what she was proposing and started to protest. Megaira and Selene were shaking their heads vigorously; Xanthe looked shocked.
“Are you crazy?” Selene exclaimed. “Do you actually know what you’re proposing?”
“Of course she does,” Megaira said. “Because he put her up to it.”
“No, he didn’t. It was—” Nora fell silent because she had been about to say it was Shelby who had first told her about murder golems.
But Shelby wouldn’t have existed if it hadn’t been for Damastes, would she? So was this idea simply another trap she had been led into?
“It was what?” asked Selene, giving Nora a shrewd look.
Barely pausing for breath Nora replied, “I was going to say it was actually Rafe Bogdani who told me about Heykeli during our first tussle. He tried to bargain with me, implied that if I trapped Damastes in a murder golem and handed it over to him, I could walk away unscathed. I didn’t believe him for a moment, of course.”
She paused, aware of Damastes’s mirth deep inside her, like a subterranean rumble. His velvety, sibilant voice—which she suspected was merely the archetypal villain’s voice, one her subconscious had concocted for him in order to translate his thoughts into words—filled her head.
What a delicious little liar you are.
She closed him off, knowing how much it infuriated him. It wasn’t that she wanted to keep what she was about to say secret from him, because even though she’d mean every word, she knew that in his arrogance he’d think she was bluffing simply to convince the Androktasiai her idea was good; it was that she wanted to piss him off, put him in his place, show him who was boss.
“But my thinking now,” she continued after a moment, “is that I can use a murder golem to take Bogdani down. It would be the ultimate irony, don’t you think?”
Selene, though, had barely stopped shaking her head. “I still say it’s a crazy idea. It’s far too dangerous.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you were me. You underestimate the hold I’ve got over Damastes.”
“You only think you’ve got a hold over him,” said Megaira. “He’s lulled you into a false sense of security.”
“Oh, so how come he hasn’t broken out in the twelve or so years he’s been inside me? Do you think he’s been asleep? Biding his time? Bullshit. It’s because I’ve been containing him.”
“That’s all very well,” said Selene. “But if you release him…”
“Partially release him. Just enough to animate a murder golem. To do our bidding. To save your sorry asses.”
“There’s no such thing as partially releasing a demon,” said Megaira scornfully. “That would be like partially releasing a tiger. You open the cage, even a little way, and he’s going to muscle his way out. And no one’ll be able to stop him.”
“Oh? And what makes you such an expert? Got personal experience of demon wrangling, have you?”
“Can he hear us now?” Xanthe asked nervously.
“No, he can’t. Because I’m controlling him. I’ve shut him in his kennel. Just as I can let him out but keep him on a leash if I want to.”
“I still don’t like it,” said Selene.
Nora’s eyes flashed. “Jeez, you’re like a broken record. And one more thing…”
“What?”
“What makes you think I need your permission?”
Short of killing her, which they weren’t desperate enough to do—or at least, Nora hoped they weren’t that desperate—the Androktasiai could do nothing to stop her from going ahead with her plan. In the end, to shut them up, she told them if they didn’t like it, she’d become Indigo, use the shadows to slip away, and create the murder golem without their blessing. Faced with that ultimatum, Selene had at last reluctantly agreed to the idea, though only on the proviso that she and her sisters could supervise what she referred to as “the summoning.”
“You’re not to interfere, though,” Nora warned them.
“What if Damastes possesses you? What if you become him?” Megaira asked.
Nora hesitated. “Then you can interfere.” But after a moment she added, “He won’t, though. He’s not strong enough. And hopefully this will prove it to you.”
Twenty minutes later she was standing in the center of the floor in the main room of the empty apartment, facing away from the three Androktasiai, who were crouched against the wall watching her warily. She had told them she needed to concentrate to achieve equilibrium, and to gather her strength and resources—which was at least partly true—but what she hadn’t revealed was that she had no idea how to create a murder golem and would have to take instruction from the demon inside her before going ahead.
For most of the last twenty minutes, unbeknownst to Selene and the others, that was what she had been doing. She had been conducting an internal dialogue with Damastes, and like a teacher to a pupil he had been explaining the principles of creating what would ostensibly be a vehicle for his rage from a combination of light and shadow.
And blood.
Her blood.
Nora had been dubious about this last part, but Damastes had insisted it was the only way. Now, having finally been convinced, she was ready to proceed.
She stretched out her hands, and without turning to look at Selene and the others she muttered, “Don’t be alarmed by what you see in the next few minutes. I’m a willing participant in what will happen. It’s all part of the ritual.”
In the weighted silence behind her Nora imagined the Androktasiai glancing uncertainly at one another, tensing their muscles, gripping the hilts of their weapons. She tried to put all thought of them out of her mind and concentrate on the task at hand. Luckily the apartment was full of gloom and shadows, which was perfect for her purposes.
Twitching her fingers slightly, she drew threads of shadow toward her from the corners of the room, molding them even as they came. She had fashioned weapons from shadow before, on many occasions, and knew how to create blades so sharp they would open skin with the merest touch.