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"You're familiar with my family history," Verity said. She didn't make it a question. "Since Damian Fairgrieve was overthrown, prophets have predicted that one of his descendants will rise up like him. Every time demons break free and the portal has to be sealed again, someone claims we're responsible."

"Which is absurd," Alvis put in. "Decay over time is inevitable in obstruction spells, particularly when you account for the vagaries of demonic magic."

"I want it to be over," Verity said. She hadn't turned to Alvis when he spoke, and she wasn't quite looking at you and Letha either. "I want people to stop staring at me like there's a beast inside me plotting to tear them in two. And the only way I can think of to put the rumors to rest is to fulfill them. Make a prophecy come true, pretend I mean to conquer the world, and let some heroes claim they've killed me. Then begin again somewhere else."

"And he's your hero?" Letha asked, casting a skeptical glance at Alvis.

Verity shook her head. "You're my heroes," she said. "He's my prophet."

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