The boy watched through the dark mirror as his sister and the strangely dressed man rushed through the darkness to their prison cell.
“She knows,” the boy’s master growled from his seat on the dias.
“No,” the boy frowned and stroked the head of his shadowy companion. “Otherwise she would not go so willing into her doom.”
“Still,” the master continued. “We can’t take any risks. Your father is crafty and will not go down without a fight.”
“Be at ease, master,” the boy said. “No one has ever escaped this lair. My father can delay his doom, but he cannot escape it.”
“Find your father first,” the master advised. “Use him to bait your sister and her companion.”
“Should we separate them?” the boy asked. He was still upset that his sister had chosen to run with Clement, instead of staying with him when his pet emerged from the shadows.
“It is not necessary,” the master said. “It might make her fight harder since the man is innocent. She will feel responsible for his safety.”
“Yes, master,” the boy said and left the room. He stalked the corridors of the lair, searching for any signs of his father. The man was wiley. He used his marriage against the royal court, the necromancers against his brother, and his family against the necromancers.
“And now I will use you against your sister,” his father appeared out of thin air and slung a muscled arm around the boy’s neck. The shadow demon shrieked in protest, but they were gone before it had a chance to pounce.