Prince of Fire (28 page)

Taran barely slowed down before leaping from his horse gracefully and running toward her. Ariana frowned. How was it possible that the news was so urgent?

Her heart leapt. Something was wrong. Her mother? Her father? One of her younger brothers or sisters? She disengaged herself from Sian's embrace and ran toward the sentinel. "What news?" she asked sharply. "Is my family well?"

Taran nodded, and Ariana's heart returned to a normal rhythm. "Do you have an answer to my question?"

Still breathless, the sentinel shook his head.

"No?" Ariana put her hands on her hips, indignant now that she was no longer worried about her family. Yes, he was young and untested and somewhat naive, but she had given him a task and in these uncertain times she expected her assignments to be fulfilled. First Keelia, and now this! "Why not?"

Taran took in a deep bream of air and exhaled slowly. "Your mother said she would deliver the message to you herself. I'm so sorry, sister. I could not stop her."

Ariana's eyes jumped to the black clouds that continued to approach. "Mum," she whispered. As a child she had quickly learned that her mother's moods could affect the weather if they were strong enough. It was a magical gift Sophie Fyne had learned to control for the most part, but when the emotions were particularly intense, there were sunny days in wintertime and stormy, ones when all around the skies were clear.

Another splinter of lightning danced on air, and Ariana turned from the thunder to look Sian in the eye. She sighed, wondering what the night would bring. "Perhaps you should hide."

* * * * *

Keelia felt twitchy, even though she was tired and her brain seemed not to want to function at all. She'd slept away most of her time here in Maccus's home—her home—and yet she was constantly teetering on the edge of exhaustion. The twitchy sensation was new. There had been a time when she would've known what that twitch meant, but not tonight. Tonight it was simply annoying. She did not want to be forced to think. It was so draining ...

"Is something wrong, love?" Maccus smiled at her. They sat together in the main room, their chairs positioned a few feet apart. It was here, she had learned, that Maccus worked his spells and made magical things happen. Earlier he had asked some of his men—rather, creatures who had once been Caradon—to entertain her, as his betrothed appeared to be bored. One twisted creature had sung a song which made no sense, since his words were not at all intelligible, and another had danced clumsily while Maccus plucked at a small stringed instrument she had not seen before. The melodies he played were quite lovely, but the dance was not at all enjoyable. Even though the beast had tried to be joyful, the movements appeared to be painful and cheerless.

But now they were alone, and as Keelia watched Maccus closely, his expression gradually changed. "What do you feel, dear? I can see that something is bothering you. I know you so well."

Maccus did know her well. He loved her; he would never leave her. She knew that to be true, and yet deep down that twitching tried to interfere with what she so easily accepted to be fact.

"I don't know. Something is wrong."

Maccus left his chair and came to her, kneeling beside her and laying his hand on her thigh. The fabric of her pretty gown shimmered. "Is it him? Is it the one whose gift is fire?"

Keelia's breath caught, and before she could stop herself, she answered. "Yes. Joryn comes."

"He comes for you?"

"Yes." Keelia laid her hand over Maccus's. As a Caradon he should be warm-blooded like her, but his hand was oddly cold, as if it were made of stone. Her eyes were drawn to the intricate silver and gold emblem he wore around his neck. He never removed it, she realized. That talisman gave him enhanced powers; it made him cold.

"We need to capture him, my love. I know you can reach out and discover for me when and where this Jo-ryn can be taken. Will he sleep tonight? Will he hide? When will his guard drop, and where will he be when that happens?"

Joryn's thoughts and his future had always been dark to her, as if he purposely hid his mind and his heart, but now, now that they were separated and he was no longer attempting to shield himself from her, she could see him well. He was worried. Worried about her, but also about himself and another... someone who had changed. Trying to see more made her head ache, so she stopped.*

"Tell me, dear," Maccus whispered. "I need your help."

It was as if she had no choice but to help him. No, it wasn't that at all. She
wanted
to help this man who loved her; she wanted it very badly. Keelia rose from her seat and walked toward Maccus's worktable. She grasped an ebony wand in one hand, and took a jar of enchanted sand in toe other. Without thinking, she scattered the sand on the table.

Maccus gasped, but he did not chide her or try to stop her, and when she began to draw in the sand, he calmed considerably.

Keelia drew an outline of the mountain the mouth of this cave faced. "When the moon is here"—she drew the almost full moon above the mountain—"and the sky is just turning from black to gray, Joryn will sleep." She moved down the table and drew out a path which led down the mountain. It was as if she knew every twist, every turn, even though her head had been covered when the twisted creature Eneo had carried her to this wizard's home. Her home. 'There is a small cave between a rock shaped like a woman's breasts and a steep cliff streaked with pink stone."

Maccus smiled. "I know the place, love."

"He is not alone," she whispered.

Maccus's eyebrows rose slightly. "He's not?"

"No, another travels with him." Her eyebrows knit together in frustration. Part of her wanted to tell the wizard who loved her to stay away from Joryn and his companion, but something else, something very strong, compelled her to assist in their capture. 'Take them," she said, "but do not have them killed. Not yet. They have a role yet to play."

"That they do."

"You must tell your soldiers—"

"Our soldiers, love."

"You must tell our soldiers to bind Joryn's hands first. Before he wakes, before anything else, they must bind his hands or else he will use his fire against them. He always wears a dagger in a sheath at his waist, and that should be removed as soon as is possible. He also knows a sneaky trick." She placed a hand at her neck. "If his hands are tightly bound before he knows of the danger and he cannot use any of his weapons then taking him will be easy."

"And his companion? Does he have any weapons our soldiers need to beware of?"

"No" she whispered. "He will be easy to take." Within her mind she caught a glimpse of green eyes touched with madness, and shuddered. "He is an old man. Very, very old."

Maccus put his arm around her, caressing her arm with a gently rocking thumb. Keelia found herself leaning into him. This was where she was meant to be. He loved her; he would never leave her. This was everything she had been waiting for all her life. So why was there a sickening knot in the pit of her stomach?

Maccus allowed his hand to brush against her breast as he made her turn to face him. His smile was contented, and she longed to feel that contentment herself.

"Tomorrow night you will be my bride."

"Yes, I know." She was alternately thrilled and excited and terrified, as if beneath a calm exterior she was continually at war with herself.

"We will make a child."

"It is not my fertile time." She found herself fiddling* with the ring Maccus had given her, toying with the stone there the way the wizard toyed with her. Like him, the stone was cold. Icy cold and unnatural.

"That doesn't matter, my love. Tomorrow night, beneath the full moon, you and I will make a very special child. You will wear the blood of the lover you have betrayed, and I will be advanced. I will be elevated, and more powerful than you can imagine. Together we will create an incredible daughter. We will create a daughter who is destined to be the bride of a prince's son. Ciro's son."

"I'm glad," Keelia said, even though Maccus's words brought back the twitch. She found herself moving her twitching fingers from the cold ring to the warmer, oddly comforting silver band on her wrist.
No, no, I'm not glad at all. Don't touch me! Run, Joryn, run!

But she could not utter a word of protest as Maccus escorted her back to her chair and departed so that he could inform his soldiers where and when Joryn could be found. A single tear escaped and ran down Keelia's cheek, and then she drifted into a deep and dreamless sleep where there was no pain and not a single doubt.

* * * * *

"Trousers," Sophie Varden said in a motherly one-word scold. "I traveled with Arik and your father for months during the revolution, and I never donned a man's trousers. It's unseemly."

Ariana faced her mother calmly. "I'm not only traveling, Mum, I'm fighting. Trousers make more sense."

At least her mother had harnessed her emotions so that they weren't being drenched by rain. Now and then a fork of lightning lit the dark sky overhead, however.

Ariana had often wondered what the coming days would bring, but she had never imagined this.

Sian approached, and Ariana tried to gently and cautiously wave her husband back. There would be a proper time for him to meet her parents, but not now.

He ignored her, joined them, and introduced himself first to her father. "Sian Sayre Chamblyn," he said. "Honored to meet you, sir."

"Kane Varden."

Ariana watched in horror as her father studied Sian up and dowri, his eyes finally landing on the choker Sian wore, and then flitting to her throat, where an identical choker lay against her skin. Kane Varden's hawkish eyes narrowed.

Ariana placed herself between Sian and her parents, taking her mother's arm. "Personal matters can wait, and should. The country is in crisis, and I must know if Aunt Liane and her child or children survived."

Ariana's mother sighed and clasped her daughter's arm. "I never thought that old secret would come back to haunt me this way. It seemed best at the time to allow her to go, to take her children and hide herself away. Why is this important now?"

It was best to be blunt, she knew. There was no time for making the dire news pretty and palatable. "Emperor Arik is dying. For all I know he's already dead. He was quite ill when I left him."

"Your sister Sibyl is in the palace," Sophie said.

"Yes, I know. We'll extract her when we warn the emperor... if he still lives " Her parents had sent Du-ran with Ariana when she'd gone to the palace. It made sense that they had provided Sibyl with a suitable escort as well. "Which of the boys accompanied her?"

"Bronsyn."

Ariana sighed in relief. Not all of her brothers had magical abilities, but if Sibyl was in immediate danger Bronsyn would know, and he would remove his sister from harm's way. Sophie obviously shared that same thought. She shook off her maternal worry and continued.

"Prince Ciro—"

"Prince Ciro is lost," Ariana interrupted. "He's been taken over by the Isen Demon body and soul, and he himself is now a monster. If Ciro takes the throne, we are all doomed."

Sophie Fyne Varden was a lover of peace. She frowned as she began to understand the import of the situation. "If it's revealed that Sebestyen had sons who lived, there will be war. Those who always thought that Sebestyen was the rightful emperor will fight for his sons' rights. I know what such a war is like, Ariana."

"Mum, we're already at war. War is here."

Her mother sighed. "There must be another way."

"There is," Ariana said, knowing that Sian would prefer his heritage to be kept a secret, but also realizing that she had no choice if she wanted her mother's assistance. "Arik fathered a child thirty-four years ago. An illegitimate child."

Her mother sighed in obvious relief. "Then when Arik passes, this man—"

"This man doesn't want the throne," Ariana said sharply. "He doesn't want it, nor does he want his mother's name sullied by the knowledge that she was the emperor's lover without marriage." Her lips thinned. "I know that sort of thing isn't important in all circles, but it is important to ... to this man."

Blue eyes narrowed. "You know him, don't you? Who is this child of Arik's who wishes to deny his true parentage?"

A shout went up, and the sounds of a scuffle alarmed Ariana so that she spun about to see her father and the man she called husband grappling on the ground. While she'd been speaking with her mother, the two men had edged away. Apparently they'd been having their own discussion. Using the abilities Sian had taught her, Ariana sent a stream of energy through the air and plucked away the knife her father drew so smoothly. The weapon skittered away, spinning in the dirt.

"The emperor's son is my ... my husband, Mum." Sian was her husband in almost all ways, but like him, her father put a lot of weight on the legalities. "The man Poppy is apparently trying to kill."

* * * * *

Joryn awoke with a start after a very short period of sleep. His hands were already caught tightly in those of a mutated Caradon, and in seconds they were securely bound behind his back. Three of the monsters gave his capture their full attention, while one made short work of trussing a very confused Druson.

He should not have stopped, not even for a few minutes. But he'd been on the verge of losing his ability to think clearly, and Druson had been utterly exhausted in mind and body. A few hours of rest had seemed not only permissible, but necessary.

Joryn quickly realized that he didn't have a chance. The creatures were stronger than he, and they'd taken him by surprise. If he'd had the opportunity to call upon his gift of fire, he would've been able to fight back; if he'd had a chance to wield his dagger, he might've at least put up a decent fight, but they had known exactly how to disable him.

How had they found him? The cave he'd chosen for a , short period of rest was small and well concealed. It would not have been an easy place to find.

Perhaps they'd had some sort of magical help from the man who'd cursed and directed them. Had the wizard known all along where he and Keelia were? Had they been walking into a trap from the beginning?