Sira reached the edge of the barrier. Although she knew she was bound to try, she would not convince the boy to come back. No. His power must grow in his strength as a wizard. Only then would he be able to stand at Klavon’s side—not as his equal, but as his dedicated servant—the curse complete in its corruption.
And her power would be secure. With two wizards from which to pull, she would be unstoppable. She was a master of manipulation and would guide them both exactly as she wished, shrouded in the deception of her allegiance. It would be a perfect arrangement, and the three would coexist quite nicely.
And, of course, the boy was attractive, perhaps a suitable distraction from day to day business. With her guidance, he might even become strong. She smiled as she thought of him, again, slipping into the mire. Yes, she would guide him, and Klavon would be pleased.
Sira held out the vial and poured the contents onto the barrier. Nothing happened. She tried yet again, but as before, the barrier held strong, not even a hint that the serum had any effect.
“Of course. Even Klavon is not all-powerful.” She laughed. “No matter.”
Sira softly whispered mysterious words only she could understand, raised her head to the sky, and became a white wisp of wind, penetrating the barrier.
She floated about, unbeknownst to Barsovy and the others—a trait of her kind that allowed anonymity beyond compare and a trait she would never divulge to Klavon.
When she found Darius asleep, she lingered, suspended above him. She could invade his dreams, create a world so real, so sensual that he would be defenseless against even the slightest suggestion, but no. Instead, she floated just above his lips until she could feel his breath against her clouded form…and waited.