I took a deep breath.
“I’m listening,” I said.
“Are you?” she asked. “Fine. Then listen. You’re the best magician—” she sneered. “All my power comes from him. He raised me from the dead thousands of years ago so I would devour the prince who had—” The words caught in her throat.
“I know the story.”
She looked away.
“But your power,” she continued, “is of another sort. He had more plans than to conquer some backwater in Mesopotamia when he raised me, and he didn’t plan on you breaking into his castle. He needs me, not you.”
