Vault of Shadows by Jonathan Maberry Page B

the Huntsman to kill me to free Queen Mab?”
    â€œMaybe. It may be more complicated than that. A single sacrifice wouldn’t break open the door. Not with someone new to using magic. Wanting to become a necromancer and actually being one are hardly the same things. No, I think they will have to take other lives to set the Aes Sídhe free.” She pondered this. “It may be that the Huntsman has already killed someone else to gain the power necessary to communicate with the queen. It’s a process with many steps. I think what they tried to do to you was something different.”
    â€œI probably don’t want to know,” he said, “but what do you think they had in mind?”
    â€œBinding you.”
    â€œWhat, like tying me up?”
    â€œNo. Binding your soul and your life force to those of a necromancer. It would turn you into a kind of slave. You’ve heard of animals that some witches keep as pets and servants? They’re called familiars.”
    Milo nodded. Scary books were filled with that sort of stuff.
    â€œIf the Huntsman were able to complete the spells necessary to bind your life force to his, then you would have no choice but to serve him. That means he could make you as obedient to him as the Bugs are to the hive queens. And you would have to tell him anything he wanted to know.”
    Milo touched the crystal egg in his pocket and cut a look at the leather pouch at Evangelyne’s belt. She followed his gaze and nodded.
    â€œYou would have no secrets from him because he would be your master forever.”
    â€œOh, man . . .”
    She smiled a twisted smile. “And to think you were saved by an annoying little dog.”
    â€œKiller is not annoying,” said Milo quickly. “Actually, I think I’m going to be especially nice to that mutt for the rest of my life.”
    â€œYou should.”
    Milo felt dizzy. “Why can’t the world be simple? It used to be. I can remember when the hardest thing I had to do was put my toys away and brush my teeth before bed. Now . . . every day things get bigger and more complicated. Why can’t I just go back to being a kid?”
    â€œI’m sorry, Milo,” said the wolf girl. “Life used to be easier for me, too. I used to read my books and run through the woods hunting rabbits and sing to the moon with my aunts. Some of the Nightsiders had learned how to find peace even with you humans around.”
    Milo sighed.
    â€œThen,” said Evangelyne, “the Bugs came. And then the Huntsman, and now the Aes Sídhe are trying to make mischief.”
    â€œI think it’s a little worse than ‘mischief.’”
    She shook her head. “That word means somethingdifferent to the Nightsiders, Milo. Mischief isn’t harmless pranks. Not to us. It comes from an old French word, meschever , meaning something done to bring grief.”
    The word “grief” hung in the air, and it was a word that Milo—and everyone else still alive on Earth—knew all too well. Knew, and feared.
    Milo had to clear his throat before he could speak. “Can we . . . talk to these faeries? Maybe make them understand who the Huntsman really is and what he wants?”
    â€œI don’t know. I doubt it. They don’t have a reputation for being reasonable. Trying to reason with them could get us hurt.”
    â€œEven if we’re careful?”
    â€œI really don’t think it’s possible. Others have tried to make peace with them, and there was always blood, death, and ruin. All I do know, Milo, is that Queen Mab and her kind—the dark faeries of the Aes Sídhe and their allies among the goblins and imps—will never be our friends and they will never be our allies. Not even in this fight. Never.”
    Despite that, Milo pasted a smile on his face. “My dad had a saying: ‘Never say never.’”
    Evangelyne’s eyes