Prince of Fire (36 page)

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Authors: Linda Winstead Jones

Tags: #Fantasy, #Fiction, #Paranormal, #Romance, #Shapeshifters

BOOK: Prince of Fire
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"Won't kill the Queen," Druson mumbled. "Need her. Need her. Better to be dead."

Maccus glanced at the rambling man, annoyance etched on his face. "Who
are
you?"

"No one," Keelia said, stepping between the wizard and the Grandfather. "Surely you can see that he's not right in the head. Ignore him. I'm the one you need to speak with. What do you want, Maccus?"

The wizard dragged Joryn farther into the camp, carelessly dropping the limp body near Ryn's. Maccus's attention was on Keelia, so he barely noticed when Juliet ran to the two unconscious men and dropped to her knees. Keelia could see the relief on her mother's face, and she knew both men were alive. For now.

"I want everything, love," Maccus answered. "Power. Fortune. Immortality. And you."

Keelia wished she'd had more time in the world in-between, where her powers had worked as they should. The few minutes she'd been there had been filled with bursts of information, but she simply hadn't been there for very long. If she understood all that was to come, maybe she'd know how to stop Maccus.

One thing she did know: All his magic was in the things he wielded, not within himself. The sand, the medallion, the stones he had enchanted... stones she had destroyed. The only way she could defeat him was to make sure he was stripped of his implements.

Behind her, Druson mumbled, "Take his heart, take his head. Let them stay not together."

Maccus either did not hear the lowly spoken words, or else he had already dismissed the mumbling man as insignificant.

But Keelia knew that her mother heard. Juliet's head came up slowly, and she caught her daughter's eye before nodding once. They knew what they had to do. Could they accomplish the feat with the strongest members of their party insensible?

* * * * *

Maccus kept a close eye on his prisoners. His mistake last night, in assuming the redhead and the blond were Keelia and Joryn, was an understandable one. Apparently the Queen and her lover had spent the night beneath the full moon elsewhere, not in the camp with her parents and the odd, muttering fool. Since Keelia's father did not care for his daughter's lover, it was understandable that the couple might make their own camp in another place.

Even in their human form, mother and daughter favored. Keelia was more petite, and her hair was silkier, but there was a resemblance. Of course, Keelia's powers were much stronger than her mother's. Only the current Queen had the ability to maintain her woman's shape when the full moon rose.

With the proper spell and the Isen Demon's assistance, it was a power Maccus could steal when the time came. When he shifted into his animal form, his magic was silent. He had tried many different spells and enchantments to fix that failing, but nothing had worked thus far. Once his child was growing in Keelia and she was under his bewitchment again, he would re-create the enchantment that had called his servants to him. Just a few nights ago he had planned to join his soldiers in that enhanced state where he would be part human and part cat, so that he would always have the power of die animal and die magic of the man. But if he could steal Keelia 's power, he would not need to embrace that sometimes painful change. He could have it all.

He looked at the two who remained unconscious. Those two strong men would be the first of his servants this time. They would wear the amulets which connected them to him, and they would become creatures which Keelia called monsters, and they would worship him. The mother, too. She would be next. He liked the idea of owning the soul of a former Anwyn Queen, and he looked forward to making her his servant in all ways. How interesting it would be to have both mother and daughter at his command.

It was necessary that Keelia wear the blood of her lover when they wed, but it was not necessary mat she shed all of the Caradon's blood. If Maccus had still had his soldiers, men he'd have insisted on the death of the Queen's lover, but since he was in need of new servants, a less drastic bloodletting would suffice for now.

It was Keelia's fault that he had to start building his army all over again, but he did not hate her for her strength. He admired her greatly. Soon her strength would be his.

Timing was crucial, as the Queen and her lover had ruined his original plans. The ceremony and the consummation would have to take place just before full darkness fell. While both moon and sun hung in the sky, he would make the Queen his own.

* * * * *

Very slowly, Joryn became aware of his situation and his surroundings. His hands and feet were bound, and he lay on the hard ground. A large, motionless body lay close to his. He opened one eye to see Keelia's father in a similar position to his own.

Early that morning, Joryn had been rushing toward Keelia as she spoke to him with her powerful mind. While listening to her, he'd come across something odd on the narrow path. The thing on the ground had looked to him like a piece of discarded metal, and since metal of any kind was hard to come by in this place, he'd stooped to study the piece.

It might've been dropped by one of Maccus's soldiers in days past. Even though he did not have Keelia's abilities, he detected the stink of bad magic. He decided not to touch the thing. When he'd stood, all he'd seen were the grains of sand coming toward him, and the fuzzy outline of Maccus's face. Everything had quickly gone dark.

Now that he was awake again, he didn't reveal his consciousness to the others. Instead he took a moment to watch, listen, and assess the situation.

Judging by the way the light fell, it was late afternoon. He'd been senseless for the entire day, when they did not have a single day, a single hour, to waste. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Keelia's mother, Juliet, had been bound as he had but remained conscious. Druson was out of sight, but now and then Joryn heard a mumbled word that surely came from the Grandfather.

He could not see Keelia, but he heard her calm voice.

"If I'm to be naked, then you should be naked, too," she said, her tone absurdly serene and reasonable. "It's only fair."

Joryn pulled against his bonds. He could sit up and call upon fire without the use of his hands, but unless he knew where everyone was situated, he'd have to move very quickly—before Maccus had a chance to attack with his sleeping sand again. He'd lost an entire day with its first use. He could not afford to lose this night.

With great restraint, Joryn reached for Keelia with his mind.
Naked? What's happening?

He felt her rush of relief before he caught the word.
Wait.

Wait for what?

Just wait.

Her voice came again. "You insist I am to be your bride, and yet mere is no equality in this situation. A man and woman who are wed should be equal."

"Equality?" Maccus said with a snort of laughter. "Why should I concern myself with equality?"

Keelia's voice was serene and strong, and sent chills down Joryn's spine. "It's only right. If I am your equal, I can assist you in all your efforts." She sighed loudly. "Do you think I don't want the same things you do? Power. Fortune. Immortality. I can share my considerable power with you, and I will do so. Willingly, Maccus, I will share. But only if there is fairness and a like share of power on both sides of this marriage."

"You fought me before."

"You tried to take away my mind!" Keelia argued. "Of course I fought you. I am a strong woman, and no one will take away my will or my identity ever again. That does not mean I'm not eager for all that you have promised me." She positively cooed. Even if he had not been able to touch her mind, Joryn would know she was lying. She was drawing Maccus in, making him relax.

"It's almost time," Maccus said, his voice sharp. "Draw the blood of your lover and paint it on your body as you wish."

"No. Not until you are as naked as I am," Keelia said stubbornly. "This marriage will be evenly balanced in every way, or there will be no marriage at all."

The wizard was obviously annoyed. "I can send you to sleep and make you my bride without your consent."

"You could," Keelia responded, seemingly unconcerned. "But if I remember correctly, you need me to draw Joryn's blood. Besides, surely you realize that our strength will be much more forceful if our connection is one of mutual consent. My power freely given will be tenfold my power taken."

For a moment, the wizard was silent.

Now?
Joryn asked.

No!

"Fine." Maccus's word was followed by the rustle of clothing.

It took all of Joryn's will to remain motionless while Maccus undressed himself with the intention of making Keelia his dark bride. His body shuddered, he was so anxious to burst to her rescue, but he had to trust her to know when the time was right to fight. He who had never entirely trusted any woman or any Anwyn waited for Keelia's signal, for her word that it was time to make his move. Trying not to make a sound or move too much, he continued to wrestle against the knotted rope at his wrists.

"That, too," Keelia said when the rustle of clothing ceased. "Take it off."

"No," Maccus snapped.

"Then where is my medallion?" Keelia said stridently. "Where is my symbol of our power? It is not fair that you should have something I do not, at this time when we are supposed to be equal."

"You already sound like a shrew!"

"I sound like a woman who knows what she wants and doesn't mind commanding it," Keelia responded in a tone Joryn remembered from their early days together. "I demand that you remove that piece of jewelry so our marriage will be entirely natural and without unnecessary embellishment. We will be wed with nothing which is not of ourselves interfering. When that is done, we will make our special daughter with you and I each embracing our union without either of us having power or superiority over the other."

If you think I'm going to lie here while.
. .

Keelia's response was fervent.
Get ready.

"I cannot remove this," Maccus said, but there was a hint of reluctance in his voice.

"You would share my considerable power with a demon when it can be yours? You would willingly pass what I offer you to an entity who would gladly kill us all for even a small portion of what I possess? Really, Maccus, I did think you more ambitious than that."

For a moment all was silent, and then Keelia purred, "Better."

Now!

Joryn rolled over and up, his bonds loosening as he leapt to his feet. Keelia jumped away from Maccus and scooped something from the ground. It was his medallion, which she had coerced him into shedding for their "wedding."

Naked, caught by surprise, and without his magic, Maccus looked stunned. "You lied," he said, turning to Keelia and sounding very much as if his feelings were hurt by her betrayal. "You told me you wanted the same things I do. You said you would join me and together we would rule the Mountains of the North and all the people upon them. You said..." He reached out one pale hand. "Give me my medallion."

Keelia backed away from the wizard, the symbol of his power in her hand but held as far away from her body as possible.

Juliet squirmed, trying to free herself. The large Anwyn, Keelia's father, moaned as he came slowly awake.

Druson mumbled, but he managed to rise steadily to his feet. His words became stronger and clearer, and he reached out his bound hands. A gentle glow surrounded the knotted ropes there until the twine literally came apart, dissolving into small pieces that fell to the ground, leaving his hands free.

Maccus's reaction to the threat was to reach for the nearest person. Keelia. Still clinging to his medallion, she was able to dance just out of his reach. She rushed toward the cliff's edge and drew back her hand, intending to toss the medallion over the side, but Druson's shout stopped her.

"No! We must destroy it, not throw it away where it might be found by yet another dark soul. The demon will guide one of his followers to the medallion if we allow it to survive."

Maccus turned his attention to a suddenly coherent Druson. "Who
are
you?"

Druson's eyes remained ancient, and his hair was a bit grayer than it had been the day before. No, not gray, Joryn realized, but
white.
There were still a few strands of dark hair mixed in with the white, but at this rate his hair would be like snow within days.

But for now, at least, the madness was gone. Or sleeping. "I am your Grandfather, Maccus, and I am so very disappointed in you." Druson shook his head. "With your love for magic, you might've studied hard and become a great healer or a force for harmony, but you choose instead to embrace a darkness you do not evert understand."

Druson's hand shot out quickly, much too fast to be natural, and he gripped the wizard by the throat. Maccus tried to fight, but he could not. The newfound strength of the Grandfather was too much for him, and he could only choke and sputter as he fought for breath.

"I... I cannot be killed," Maccus protested breathlessly. 'The Isen Demon will not allow it."

Druson smiled. "When your heart and your head are separated, not even the Isen Demon will be able to save you."

At this, Maccus began to fight more savagely, but Druson seemed unaffected by his struggle. "Pathetic creature," the Grandfather whispered. "Do you not know that the demon chose you because you are so very weak? You think you were chosen due to your strength, but that is not the case. You were chosen because you were easy to manipulate, easy to guide down the path to your destruction and the destruction of your people. I understand what it is to crave power that is not meant to be yours, as I once was so foolish. We were cursed, pathetic creatures, cursed to have what we wished for thrust upon us." Druson sighed, perhaps mourning for his own fate. "You are nothing, wizard. Nothing at all."

Druson glanced past his prisoner, laying eyes on Joryn. "It is the duty of the Queen's true mate to kill this one who dared to attempt the corruption of that sacred union. Take his head, burn his heart to ashes, and when that is done, his spirit will be trapped in a dark and faraway place from which he will never depart."

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