At some point, I would burn the remains. The imps would gladly help, drawn to the fire and the drama of watching the past turn to ash.
The spectacle had to wait, though, because it didn’t look like the minion applicants would.
“There you are!” a human shouted when he spotted me. “We’ve been waiting all damn day.”
I assessed him from the shadows of my hood. Six foot, brawny, with a curved sword on his belt and an ugly scar over his eye. Intimidating to some, but not what I liked in a minion. The lord might have liked him. He liked to feel smarter than everyone in the room which meant he usually hired less competent minions.
“Leave,” I ordered.
The human blinked, startled by the immediate dismissal. His shock quickly morphed into fury as he strode toward me, hand already on his sword. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Little bitch, you think you can order me around?”
Others in the crowd laughed, a few voices calling, “Where do you think youare? We’re minions! Of course she can order us around!”
A mottled red flush spread across his face. “I’m here for a job with the Lord of Grimnight, not somebitch!” He rushed forward and grabbed the hood of my cloak, yanking it off to show everyone my face. “Looks like a little lady is trying to play with the big boys. Run along and get yer daddy, this is men’s business.”
Tension filled the air as the minions watched. If I showed weakness now, they would descend upon the lair, claiming it for themselves. If I killed the man, it would cement a certain reputation I didn’t want to cultivate. Evil mages who killed their visitors usually attracted righteous warriors to their door.
He’d already disregarded one order, so I didn’t bother to give him a second. I raised my hands, splayed my fingers wide, and pushed. A sound like ripping fabric tore throughthe air as the space behind him split open. There was a glimpse of another black throne room, a torn-up battleground.
Blood pounded in my ears and spots formed at the edge of my vision. I ignored it all as I gathered my magic and shoved the man through the tear.
The crowd gasped. As if their shock had sucked up all the magic in the room, the rip dissolved and disappeared.
“Iamthe Lord of Grimnight,” I declared. My former master had never earned the title, so it felt right to rip it from his weak grasp. “Anyone who has a problem with that can leave.” I waited a beat before saying, “Either on your own, or I can show you the way out.”
Several minion hopefuls peeled off from the crowd, slipping away quietly to avoid confrontation.
I waited to see if more would leave and tried to hide my irritation when they didn’t. At least eighty remained, which meant I either had to find another way to scare them off or I’d have to interview all of them.
An orc cleared his throat. I recognized him—Fyodor, the leader of the original crew the master had hired. “Do you prefer master or mistress?” he asked.
The minions weren’t part of my plan to court Treasure, so I gave him a cryptic answer, “Evil has no gender. Refer to me however you like.” Then I raised my voice and called to everyone gathered, “Form a line. If you’re with a crew, I only need to speak to your leader.”
The master would have sat on his throne, no matter how uncomfortable, and lorded over everyone in the room. I couldn’t bear to touch its smoldering remains, so I had one of the imps bring me a more modest chair and sat in that while the line formed.
Fyodor was first in line. I stared at him for a moment, taking in his large tusks and green muscles. He was smart and knew how to follow orders, and I’d worked with him before. He was an obvious choice, but I couldn’t single him out in front of the other applicants without causing trouble.
“What do you think of a man who would kill his child for power?” I asked.
Fyodor stared at me for a long time, dark eyes narrowed. “Not much of a man.”
“You’re hired.” I gestured for him to stand off to one side.
He showed no arrogance or shock at this announcement. He only stepped aside as instructed, his orcs gathering around him, and watched the rest of the interviews with interest.
The next person in line was another human. He stepped forward eagerly, an answer already forming on his lips as he anticipated the same question.
“You stumble upon a harmless maiden in the woods. What do you do?”
The man’s mouth dropped open, allowing his prepared answer to escape. He swallowed and tried to collect himself, then said, “I’ll capture …” He paused, eyeing my feminine face and dress. “Umm … pass?”
“Leave.”
“Yes, ma’am sorry, ma’am,” he muttered before scurrying out the door.
The next was a lacertian. They were harder to tell apart, since all lacertians were tall with green scales, yellow eyes, long tails, and muzzles full of sharp teeth. I couldn’t tell if I’d met this particular lacertian before or if they were a new applicant.
“Same question.”
