“Allies, you call us. I would not use such a word.”
“Are we not brethren? Do we each not help the other?” Leech argued, shocked by her wrath. “The Temple has always honored the daemonion. We offer you flesh and blood. Our language of power gives you shape and form—”
“Bah,” scoffed Frinshir. “Ten ages have passed and you have learned nothing about us . . . or perhaps you simply never understood yourselves. We serve the sorcerers because we have no choice. When you summon us from the realm of darkness, we visit your world for a short time to feed and wield at your pleasure. This is not an alliance; this is enslavement.”
“Enslavement?” he echoed, scowling.
“You control us while we are here, and when you are done with us you send us back to our prison,” she explained, her voice a grating,
