by Nora Roberts
so many. There never seemed so many before. Can you hold so many within a protective circle?”
Glenna’s face tightened with sheer determination. “Lilith’s pet dog managed to shield their entire base. I hope you’re not suggesting Hoyt and I can’t measure up.”
“Wouldn’t think of it.”
“Damn big circle to cast,” Glenna admitted. “And the sun’s getting low, we’ll have to get started. We could use you.”
“I was hoping you could.”
With them, Moira walked the field from end to end and, as Glenna had instructed, gathered blades of grass, small stones, bits of earth as she went. They met again in the center.
As word had passed that magic would be done, the troops fell silent. In the hush, Moira heard the first whispers of power.
They called on the guardians, east and west, north and south. On Morrigan, their patron. She took up the chant with them as she’d been given it.
“In this place and in this hour, we call upon the ancient powers to hear our needs and grant our plea to shelter all in this company. Upon this grass, this earth, this stone, protection from harm bestow. Only life at its fullest may cross this ring, and none may enter with harm to bring. Within this circle that was cast no enemy nor his weapon may pass. Night or day, day or night shield earth and air within its light. Now our blood will seal this shield and circle it round this field.”
As Hoyt and Glenna did, Moira cut her palm with an athame, then fisted it around the dirt, the grass, the stones she’d gathered.
It pumped and plunged through her, the heat—hers and theirs—and the wind they raised blew in widening circles, slapping at the tents, singing through the grass until it whipped around and around the edges of the field in a cyclone of light.
With Hoyt and Glenna, she threw down the blood-soaked earth, felt the shudder under her feet as three small flames bloomed and died. When they clasped hands, her body bowed back from the force of what joined them.
“Rise and circle,” she shouted with them, “circle and close and bar this place from all our foes. Blood and fire here mix free, as we will, so mote it be.”
Around the field red flames speared up. When the earth was scorched white in a perfect ring, the flames vanished in a thunderclap.
Moira’s vision wavered, and the voices that spoke to her seemed to blur as well, as if the world were suddenly underwater.
When she came back to herself she was on her knees. Glenna was gripping her shoulders and saying her name.
“I’m all right. I’m all right. It was just…it was so much. Just need my breath back.”
“Take your time. It was a powerful spell, only more so because we used blood.”
Moira looked down at the slice on her hand. “Everything’s a weapon,” she stated. “As Blair says. Whatever it takes, as long as it works.”
“I’d say it has,” Hoyt said quietly.
Following his direction, Moira saw Cian standing outside the circle. Though the cloak protected him from the last rays of the sun, she could see his eyes, and the fury in them.
“Well then. We’ll leave the men to finish setting up camp.”
“Lean on me,” Glenna told her. “You’re white as a sheet.”
“No, it won’t do.” Though her knees were still like pudding. “The men can’t see me drooping now. I’m just a bit off in the stomach is all.”
As she crossed the field, Cian turned on his heel and strode back to the house.
He was waiting inside, and something of his mood must have translated as he was alone.
“Are you trying to lay her out before Lilith gets the chance?” he demanded. “What are you thinking, dragging her into magicks like that, strong enough to brew up your own personal hurricane.”
“We needed her,” Hoyt said simply. “It isn’t an easy matter to throw a net over an area so large that holds so many. And as it stopped you on the edge, the spell holds.”
It hadn’t just stopped him, but had shot jolts of electricity through him. He was surprised his hair wasn’t standing on end. “She’s not strong enough to—”
“Don’t tell me what I’m not strong enough to do. I’ve done what was needed. And isn’t that the same you’d say to me if I dared question your reckless journey to the valley? Both are done now, and we’re able to stand here and argue about it, so I’d say both are well done. I’m told I have a chamber upstairs. Does anyone know where it might be?”
“First door, left,” Cian snapped.
When she walked, haughtily, he thought, up the stairs, he cursed. Then followed her.
She sat in the chair by the fire that had yet to be lit, with her head between her knees.
“My head’s light, and it doesn’t need you bringing a scold down on it. I’ll be myself again in a moment.”
“You seem yourself to me.” He poured water into a cup, held it down so she could see it. “Drink this. You’re white as a corpse. I’ve made corpses with more color than you.”
“A lovely thing to say.”
“Truth is rarely pretty.”
She sat back in the chair, studying him as she drank the water. “You’re angry, and that’s just fine and good, as I’m angry right with you. You knew I was here, but you didn’t come down.”
“No, I didn’t come down.”
“You’re a great fool, is what you are. Thinking you’d ease back from me, that I’d let you. We’ve only days left before we end this thing, so you go ahead and take steps back from me. I’ll just take them toward you until your back’s in the corner. I’ve not only learned to fight, I’ve learned not to fight clean.”
She gave a little shiver. “It’s cold. I’ve nothing left after that spell to get the fire lit.”
He moved toward the hearth, and before he bent down for the tinderbox, she took his hand. And she pressed it against her cheek.
It broke him, a snap like glass. He lifted her out of the chair, holding her off the floor while his mouth plundered hers. She simply wrapped herself around him, wantonly, arms and legs.
“Aye, that’s better,” she said breathlessly. “Much warmer now. The hours seemed endless since I watched you go. So little time, so little, for eternity.”
“Look at me. Yes, there’s that face.” He held her close again so her head rested on his shoulder.
“Did you miss it, my face?”
“I did. You don’t have to fight dirty when you’ve already carved yourself inside me.”
“Easier to be angry with each other. It hurts less.” She squeezed her eyes tight for a moment, then eased back when he set her on her feet. “I brought the vielle. I thought you might like to have it, to play it. We should have music, like we should have light and laughter, and all the things that remind us what we’re ready to die for.”
She walked to the window. “The sun’s setting. Will you go back to the battlefield tonight?” She glanced around when he didn’t speak. “We saw you go with Larkin two nights ago, and saw you go alone last night.”
“Each time I go, I’m a little stronger. I won’t be any good to you or myself if what’s soaked into that ground turns me.”
“You’re right on that, and tonight I’ll be going with you. You can waste time arguing, Cian,” she said as he began to. “But I’ll be going. Geall is mine, after all, and every inch of its ground, whatever is under it. I haven’t been on the edges of that place since my childhood, except in my dreams of it. I need to see it, and at night, as it will be on Samhain. So I’ll be going with you, or I’ll be going alone.”
“But I want to go! I want to. Please, please, please!”
Lilith wondered if her head could actually explode from the boy’s incessant whining and wheedling. “Davey, I said no. It’s too close to Samhain, and much too dangerous for you to leave the house.”
“I’m a soldier.” His little face went sharp and vicious. “Lucius said so. I have a sword.”
He unsheathed the small blade she’d had made for him—to her cu
rrent regret—after his field kill. “It’s just a hunting party,” she began.
“I want to hunt. I want to fight!” Davey slashed at the air with his sword. “I want to kill.”
“Yes, yes, yes.” Lilith waved him away. “And you will, to your heart’s content. After Samhain. Not another word!”
She snapped the order out while a tinge of red smeared the whites of her eyes. “I’ve had enough from you for one day. You’re too young and too small. And that’s the end of it. Now go to your room and play with that damned cat you wanted so much.”
His eyes gleamed red, and his lips peeled back in a snarl that stripped away even the mask of human innocence. “I’m not too small. I hate the cat. And I hate you.” He stormed off, his little legs pumping in his tantrum. He swung his sword wildly as he went, slicing through the torso of a human servant who wasn’t quick enough to leap aside.
“Damnation! Look at that mess.” Lilith threw up her hands at the blood spatter on the walls. “That boy’s driving me mad.”
“Needs a good swat, if you ask me.”
Face livid now, Lilith rounded on Lora. “Shut your mouth! Don’t tell me what he needs. I’m his mother.”
“Bien sur. Don’t bite at me because he’s being a brat.” Sulking, Lora slumped into a chair. Her face was nearly healed now, but the scars that remained burned into her like poison. “Simple to see where he gets his bitchy attitude.”
One of Lilith’s hands curled, the red-tipped nails like talons. “Maybe you’re the one who needs a good swat.”
Knowing Lilith could do worse than a swat in her current mood, Lora shrugged. “I wasn’t the one who hammered at you the last hour, was I? I backed you up with Davey, and now you’re taking it out on me. Maybe we’re all on edge, but you and I should stick together.”
“You’re right, you’re right.” Lilith dragged her hands through her hair. “He actually gave me a headache. Imagine.”
“He’s just, how do they say it? Acting out. He’s so proud of himself for that kill in the field.”
“I can’t let him go out.”
“No, no.” Lora waved a hand. “You did absolutely right. We’ve lost a hunting party and a raiding party, and it’s no place for Davey out there. I still say you should’ve given him a good slap for talking back to you.”
“He may get one yet. Have someone clean that up.” She gestured vaguely toward the body of the servant. “Then make sure the hunting party gets on its way. Maybe they’ll be luckier tonight and track down the odd human. The troops are tired of sheep’s blood.
“Oh, one more thing,” she said as Lora started out. “I want a little something to eat—to calm myself down. Do we have any children left?”
“I’ll check.”
“Something small in any case. I don’t have much of an appetite tonight. Have it sent up to my room. I need some quiet.”
Alone, she paced the room as if it were a cage. Her nerves were stretched, she could admit that. So much on her mind, so many details, so many responsibilities with it all coming to the end of the circle at last.
The loss of troops was infuriating and worrisome. Deserters had been a problem, but she sent out scavengers nightly to hunt them down and destroy them. It simply wasn’t possible two full squads had deserted.
More human traps? she wondered. They were costing her dearly—and would cost the humans a great deal more when she was done.
No one understood the pressure she was under, the weight of her responsibility. She had worlds to decimate. Her destiny was pressing down on her and she was surrounded by fools and incompetents.
Now her own sweet Davey, her own darling boy, was behaving like a snarling, spitting brat. He’d actually sassed her, something she took from no one. She wasn’t certain if she should be proud or furious.
Still, she thought, he’d looked so cute and fierce waving that miniature sword. And hadn’t he nearly cut that stupid servant in two, then stomped right out, almost swaggered, without a backward glance?
It was annoying, of course, but how could she not be a little proud?
She walked to the door, stepped out so she could feel the night slide over her, into her. He felt trapped in this house, poor Davey. So did she. But soon…
Of course, of course, what a terrible mother she was! She’d arrange a hunt right here, on the shielded grounds. Just the two of them. It would perk up her appetite, her spirits. And Davey would be thrilled.
Pleased with the idea, she went back in, and stepping over the bleeding body, went upstairs.
“Davey. Where’s my bad little boy? I have a surprise for you.”
She opened the door of his room. The smell came first. There was a considerable amount of blood, on the floor, on the walls, on the bed covers she’d had made for him of royal blue silk.
Pieces of the cat were strewn everywhere. It had been, she recalled, a very large cat.
She sighed, then felt a laugh bubbling up. What a temper her little darling had.
“Davey, you naughty boy. Come out from wherever you’re hiding, or I might change my mind about the surprise.” She rolled her eyes. Being a mother was such work. “I’m not angry, my sweetheart. I’ve just had so much on my mind, and I forgot you and I need to have some fun.”
She searched the room as she spoke, then frowned when she didn’t find him. There were little pricks of concern as she stepped again. Lora dragged a woman behind her by a neck shackle.
“We’re out of children, but this one’s small.”
“No, no, not now. I can’t find Davey.”
“Not in his room.” Lora peeked in. “Ah, creative. He’s hiding somewhere because you’re angry with him.”
“I have something…” Lilith pressed a hand to her belly. “Something tight inside me. I want him found. Quickly.”
They called out a search, scoured the manor house, the outbuilding, the fields within the protected area. The tightness in Lilith’s belly became strangling knots when they discovered his pony missing.
“He’s run away. He’s run off. Oh, why didn’t I make certain he was in his room? I have to find him.”
“Wait. Wait,” Lora insisted and grabbed Lilith hard. “You can’t risk going outside the safety area.”
“He’s mine. I have to find him.”
“We will. We will. We’ll send our best trackers. We’ll use Midir. I’ll go myself.”
“No.” Struggling for calm, Lilith closed her eyes. “I can’t risk you. Lucius. Find Lucius, and have him come to me in Midir’s lair. Hurry.”
She cooled her blood and her mind. To rule took heat, she knew, but it also took ice. It was ice she needed to hold strong until the prince was safe again.
“I depend on you, Lucius.”
“My lady, I’ll find him. I give you my word, and my word that I would give my life to see him safely home.”
“I know it.” She laid her hand on his shoulder. “There’s no one I trust more. Bring him back to me, and anything you ask of me is yours.”
She whirled on Midir. “Find him! Find the prince in the glass.”
“I am searching.”
On the wall was a large oval of glass. It reflected the wizard in his dark robes, the room where he worked his dark magicks, and none of the three vampires who watched him.
Smoke slithered over the glass, swirled, and clawed its way to the edges. Through the haze of it, night began to bloom. And in the night came the shadow of a boy on a pony.
“Oh there, there he is.” Crying out, Lilith gripped Lora’s hand. “Look how well he rides, how straight in the saddle. Where is he? Where in this cursed land is the prince?”
“He’s behind the hunting party,” Lucian told her as he studied the vision in the glass. “And moving toward the battleground. I know that land, my lady.”
“Hurry then, hurry. Willful brat,” she muttered. “I’ll take your advice this time, Lora. When he’s back he’ll have a good hiding. Keep him in that glass, Midir. Can you send me to him, the
illusion of me?”
“You ask for many magicks at once, Majesty.” Robes swirling, he moved to his cauldron and, letting his hands flow through the air over it, brought up a pale green smoke.
“I’ll need more blood,” he told her.
“Human, I suppose.”
His eyes glittered. “It would be best, but I can make do with the blood of a lamb or young goat.”
“This is the prince,” she said coldly. “We don’t make do. Lora, have the one I was going to have brought in. Midir can have it.”
In the dark, Davey rode quickly. He felt strong and fierce and fine. He would show them, show them all that he was the greatest warrior ever made. The Prince of Blood, he thought with a glinting smile. He’d make everyone call him that. Even his mother.
She’d said he was small, but he wasn’t.
He’d thought to trail behind the hunting party, then move in among them and order them to let him take the lead. None would dare question the Prince of Blood. And he would have the first kill.
But something was pulling him away from them, from the scent of his own kind. Something strong and tempting. He didn’t need to stay with a hunting party, trail along after them like a baby. They were all less than he was.
He wanted to follow the music that was humming in his blood, and the smell of ancient death.
He rode slowly now, and with excitement bubbling inside him. There was something wonderful out in the dark. Something wonderful and his.
In the moonlight he saw the battlefield, and the beauty of it made him shake as he did when his mother let him put himself into her and ride as if she were a pony.
While it burned through him he saw figures on the high ground. Two humans, he thought, and a dragon.
He would have them all, slaughter them, drain them, and take their heads to drop at his mother’s feet.
No one would ever call him small again.
Chapter 18
There was a hard place in the middle of Moira’s chest, like a fist poised to strike. Breathing around it was an effort, but she stood as Cian did, at the edge of Silence.
“What do you feel?” she asked him.
“Pulled. You’re not to touch me.”
“Pulled how?”
“Chains on my feet, around my throat, pulled in opposite directions.”
“Pain.”
“Yes, but it’s mixed with fascination. And thirst. I can smell the blood in the ground. It’s thick and it’s rich. I can hear your heartbeat, taste your scent.”
Yet his eyes were Cian’s eyes, she thought. They didn’t burn red as they had the night he’d come here with Larkin. “They’ll be stronger here than on other ground.”
He looked at her then, realizing he should have known she would understand that. “They’ll be stronger here. There’ll be more of them than there are of you. Driven by what’s bred in this place, by Lilith’s power over them, death won’t mean to them what it does to you. They’ll come and they’ll come without thought of their own survival.”
“You think we’ll lose. We’ll die here, every one of us.”
Truth, he thought, would shield her better than platitudes. “I think the