Sikras captured Theodore in his stare. “Sharp words from a man whose friend ripped out Helspira’s eye.”
“I’d hardly putripping out a demon’s eyein the same category as the mass murdering of humans. Besides”—Theodore regarded Helspira with a sneer—“anyone gullible enough to fall for Cecil’s charms deserves what they got. The man was a friend and colleague, yes, but even I was still intelligent enough to keep him at arm’s length.”
Helspira reached toward her prosthetic eye. She stopped shy of it, fingers resting on her cheek. She said nothing.
A single muscle twitched near Sikras’s jaw. He glimpsed Benjamin, and the two exchanged a nod, then he refocused on Theodore. “Name your game of wits, good sir. I’m ready.”
Puffing out his chest like a territorial frog, Theodore grinned. “Metamorphose.”
“Metamorphose.” Sikras laced his fingers together. “You’re sure?”
“Very. One round. You know the stakes. Do we have a deal?”
A chair squealed as Sikras pulled it across the floor toward the table. “I feel compelled to tell you that I’m a master of Metamorphose. Hardly seems fair to enter a match without divulging that information.”
Theodore opened a drawer and removed the box containing the game. “I like my chances.”
“Then, by all means”—Sikras rapped his knuckles on the table—“set it up.”
Beside him, Helspira’s breaths left her in short, nervous bursts. “Are you sure about this?”
Sikras grinned. “Very.”
Chapter Twelve
Helspira
GREAT. THEY WERE GAMBLINGnow. What if they didn’t get the scroll? Sikras would never send Ben into a dangerous situation without a failsafe.
Maybe that was his plan all along. Ben had confessed outright that Sikras was a compulsive liar. Was this whole journey one big ruse? To delay incarceration for his crimes and continue avoiding a showdown with Vessik? Helspira chewed on one of her claws, making a mental note to file it more later.
Slaughter the wizard and take the scroll.
Nerves sunk Helspira’s stomach as she gawked at the game. A dozen little marbles nestled in a dozen little holes, and a myriad of other cavities surrounded the hexagonal board. She had never seen anything like it. Hoping Ben could shed light on the game’s objective—and Sikras’s odds of winning—she lifted her gaze to find him.
He stood across the room, outside the threshold of Theodore’s arcane collection, seemingly fixated on the contents inside.
