“Refresh me again as to our relationship, Cinder,” the shadowed man said, a deep sliver of anger running through his patient tone. “I . . . I am in your service. . . .” Cinder made a placating gesture. “You are a tool in my hand,” the shadowed man interrupted gently. “Nothing more.” A hint of defiance touched Cinder’s expression. He paused. “I wo—” The soft voice went as hard as a rod of Ramston steel. “Ferula.”
