Ciro had no intention of releasing his half-brother, but he was determined to have Rayne with him, where she belonged. He strode to the window and looked down upon the walkway below. He could not see her well, not from this vantage point, but he recognized the dress Rayne wore as one she’d often chosen for cooler days at her father’s house, though the blue had faded and the fabric was the worse for wear after days of travel. The fall of hair beneath a ridiculous hat was tangled, but unmistakably hers. He had dreamed of that dark silky hair spread across his pillow. Even though she had betrayed him, he continued to dream.
He shouted her name, and Rayne’s head tilted back a little. With the sun positioned as it was, her wide-brimmed hat shadowed the top half of her face. A wrap she’d tossed over her shoulders crept up and covered a portion of her face, so that all he could see of her was one perfectly shaped feminine cheek.
All he could see of her soon-to-be-dead escort was a sentinel’s green hat.
“Let them in,” Ciro said. “Bring them to me so we can make the trade they seek.”
“You’re not seriously—” Cestmyr began.
Ciro turned to glare at him. “Do as you’re told, or I’ll suck your pitiful soul out of that pathetic body and then spit it out the window for the wild dogs to claim.”
“Fine,” the priest snapped, turning to leave the room as quickly as possible.
“I have a feeling you’re not going to let me go,” his half-brother said, his voice raspy and accepting.
“A man should always trust his gut instincts, eh?” Ciro responded.
It had to hurt to speak, but the wizard continued. “Tell me, before I die, is there anything of Prince Ciro left inside you or are you entirely Isen Demon now?”
That was a question Ciro had often asked himself, and he assumed that as long as he thought to ask, some of the man he had once been survived. “Why do you care?”
“As long as there is something of the man within you, perhaps there is a chance the world will go on. It doesn’t need me to survive, it doesn’t need any one person, but when the demon who possesses you is all-powerful, what will be left for the humans?”
“He’ll need…we’ll need some of them in order for life to go on.” Slaves for menial tasks, women for breeding, gray souls, and blood for sustenance.
“Some,” Chamblyn repeated.
“Yes, some.” No soldiers, no magicians who did not do his bidding, no priests who did not know their rightful places at his feet, no children who were not his own.
“Does the little bit of the man inside you grieve for the world you’re about to destroy?” Chamblyn asked. “Do you know any sorrow for what might’ve been?”
The question caused a ripple in Ciro’s stomach. “If your soul was not so annoyingly white, I would take it now.”
“When you are strong enough to take a white soul, there will be nothing left of you, Ciro. There will be only demon. Did he not tell you that yet? Did he not inform you that in a short while you will no longer be necessary? He needs your body, but that is all.”
“I look forward to the day when I am entirely demon.”
Chamblyn smiled, crookedly since his face was swollen. “When you are entirely demon, fuckwit, there will be nothing of you left.”
Don’t listen to him. He’s dead to us.
Ciro stepped toward the oddly defiant man, who was bound and bleeding and bruised and who continued to annoy him. He raised his hand, but the sounds of footsteps in the hall stopped him. He hadn’t seen Rayne in months, and he did not wish her to see him with blood on his hands. Not right away. She might not understand. In time she would be made to pay for her unfaithfulness, but not today.
The door opened, and a sentinel dressed in green stepped inside, his sword drawn as if he thought it might do him some good. Behind the soldier, the familiar swish of a skirt made Ciro smile. He’d waited so long for her, his reward, his bride.
“We will not proceed until I have ascertained that the Emperor Sian is well.”
Ciro gave an uninterested wave of his hand, indicating the bound man. “See for yourself.”
The sentinel walked crisply toward Chamblyn. It would be easy to kill the annoyance now, but Ciro had decided not to offer his delicate Rayne an unsavory welcome. There would be plenty of time for taking care of Chamblyn and the sentinel later.
The soldier placed a concerned hand on his emperor’s head, and Rayne took a step into the room. She entered with her head down so that all he saw was that fall of wondrous dark hair.
His heart, what was left of it, was not unaffected by her presence. As long as he felt that swelling in his heart, there was something of him left in this body he shared with the demon. He did not have to sacrifice all to the Isen Demon who had given him so much. They could share this body, this power, and this woman.
“Rayne, my love,” he said wistfully as she entered the room.
WITH HIS HAND ON SIAN’S SHOULDER, LYR WAVED HIS sword and time for all others stopped. Because he was touching Ariana’s husband, Sian was not affected.
Sian lifted his face and glared. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Listen carefully, as I do not know how long my gift will affect one like Ciro. Your wife is about to enter the room. Ciro expects Rayne, and we are expecting that you can make him believe he sees his intended bride.”
“You want me to make Ariana appear to be someone else to Ciro’s eyes?”
“No, I want you to make me appear to be Rayne to Ciro’s damned eyes so I can get close enough to kill him with this.” Lyr drew the crystal dagger. It was no longer a murky gray and pink, but was brilliantly clear. It vibrated in his hand.
“Stab him now,” Sian directed. “While he’s frozen in time, stab him.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“This weapon I am meant to wield will not work properly unless Ciro’s heart is beating.”
“How does it work?”
They both knew the blade was too short and insignificant to do harm to what Ciro had become. “I’m not sure. Can you do what I ask of you?” The man was not in the best physical shape, so it was possible his ability to create illusions had been damaged.
Sian nodded. “Yes, I think so.”
“She should appear to be me, I should appear to be Rayne.”
“I have never seen Rayne.”
“Ciro has. You must make him see what he wishes to see.”
“I’ll do what I can, but don’t take too long. You’re asking for a complicated illusion in difficult circumstances, and I’m not sure the demon can be fooled. He does not see with eyes, as we do.”
“Maybe when he’s watching through Ciro’s eyes, he sees only what Ciro sees.”
“We can hope.”
When Lyr took his hand from Sian, the emperor was stuck in time as the others were. Lyr collected Ariana, who wore Rayne’s clothes as well as a woman’s bonnet which had long strands of hair cut from Rayne’s head sewn into it. She was heavy, but not so much so that he could not handle her quickly. He carefully placed Ariana where he’d been standing.
Lyr placed himself in Ariana’s position, barely entering the room, and after taking a deep breath and hiding the crystal dagger behind his thigh, he waved his hand and time resumed.
HIS VISION SEEMED TO FLICKER, CAUSING CIRO TO BLINK hard a few times. Was seeing Rayne again so important that she affected him physically? In any case, the odd glimmer did not last.
Ciro had forgotten how beautiful Rayne was until she lifted her head and looked at him. He smiled at her, but she did not smile back. There was a sternness on her beautiful face. Of course, he had left her chained in the cellar of her home, and she might not have understood why he hadn’t simply brought her with him. She had not yet forgiven him, but she was here and that’s all that mattered.
She wore a blue gemstone he had never seen her wear before, and it caught his eye as she moved toward him.
Something is wrong.
No,
everything is fine. Rayne is angry, but she’ll get over it in time. She’ll forgive me. She’ll forgive us. Perhaps I will forgive her, for a while. We can be married tomorrow. Perhaps tonight.
She is not what she appears to be.
I know. There is strength in her that is not noticeable at first glance. She’ll make a good mother to our son.
Rayne approached him quickly, not so much as sparing a glance for the prisoner and the sentinel on the other side of the room. Ciro spared no attention for them, either, but kept his eyes on Rayne’s face.
The demon, who usually rose up only in times of great stress, attempted to come to the surface and take control, but for the first time in a very long time, Ciro fought. Rayne had come for him, not the demon, and he did not wish for this moment to be tainted by the demon’s control. Rayne would not understand if she looked into his eyes and saw the demon’s darkness.
She had such a beautiful white soul. It shone around her, almost blinding him. Perhaps the day would come when he’d be forced to take that soul from her, but not today.
“Rayne, my love…”
Her hand came up swiftly, and he saw, too late, that she held something shiny in her hand. Not metal. If he had seen metal, he might’ve been forewarned, but this was simply a long and slender piece of stone that sparkled and shone bright, like Rayne’s soul. Crystal. It was simply crystal.
With a force unexpected, she pushed the crystal into his heart. Ciro watched it enter his body, only then realizing that it was a weapon. A dagger.
The crystal dagger.
The demon screamed, and the sound all but burst Ciro’s eardrums. It might’ve burst his heart, too, but for the dagger blade which was buried within it. He felt the demon leaving him, not of its own free will as it sometimes did, but by force. As the demon left Ciro’s body, the dagger in Rayne’s hand was filled with a smoky darkness, one swirling tendril at a time.
“Why?” he whispered.
Again, that odd glimmer affected his vision and he blinked hard. When that was done, it was not Rayne who stood before him, now-black dagger in hand, but the sentinel who had escorted her here.
“How…” His eyes cut to the wizard, the enchanter, and Ciro realized that he had been tricked. Another woman wore Rayne’s clothes and even her hair, and when he saw that she was healing the damaged emperor, he knew who she was. The blond healer who had come back from the dead, the new empress of this palace, the woman who loved his brother the way Rayne was supposed to love him.
Why were none of his men rushing to save him? Why did they not fight? Even though the demon was all but gone, for a moment Ciro connected with his Own, his legion, his army. They were running away, fleeing him and the palace they had taken. They were soulless cowards unable to fight without the demon’s strength to feed them. Most of them would be dead before nightfall. They would kill one another if his brother’s armies did not do the deed for them. Even Diella ran, half-dead and desperate to save her child.
Our child.
Her child now.
Ciro dropped to his knees. He felt as if he’d been deflated. Sapped. There was no power left in his body or in what remained of his soul. He could barely lift his hand, and when he did, he saw that it was thin and childish, as it had been before the demon had shared its power.
“What have you done?” he asked.
The sentinel held the dagger in his hand. It was no longer crystal clear, as it had been, but was black as the demon’s eyes, and when he saw that, he knew what had happened. The demon had been taken from him, taken and trapped, imprisoned in the dagger.
Ciro placed a hand on his chest, where he bled like any other man might when stabbed. He was no longer immortal, no longer immune to the wounds inflicted by such mortal weapons. Even the back of his head, where the candlestick had hit him, hurt horribly. He had forgotten pain, but pain returned for him.
Death was coming, too, and he was mightily afraid of what awaited him in the afterlife.
Ciro looked at the enchanter, who had been freed by his wife. Sian Sayre Chamblyn, emperor, he supposed, was already somewhat healed, thanks to her ministrations. She loved him, he could tell. She’d come here for him when the odds had been against her; she’d come here at the risk of her own life.
Would he have ever known anything of the sort if he had not joined with the demon? Would any woman have loved him this way? He didn’t know. He would never know.
“I had no choice,” he said. “Fynnian tricked me. The demon seduced me with promises.” But as he said the words, he knew there had been a time when he could’ve fought for his own soul and for others, and he had not. He had accepted all that the demon promised, not caring about the cost.
“I really did always wish for a brother,” Ciro said, and then his world went black and he fell to the floor face first.
What came for him at death was as dark as the demon trapped in the crystal dagger. He tried to scream and beg for mercy, but could not.
16
RAYNE LOOKED TO THE WEST AND UNCONSCIOUSLY FINgered her newly shortened hair. Lyr had said she was “still beautiful” but she wasn’t so sure. It was odd, to feel a breeze upon the back of her bare neck.
If locks of her hair sewn into a bonnet helped to fool Ciro, then she was not sorry. Her hair would grow back in time.
Some twit had suggested they use horsehair instead of chopping off her long locks, but she’d been horrified to think anyone would be fooled by such a ploy, and Lyr had insisted that it would not be sufficient. They were taking enough of a chance in trying to fool Ciro without that artifice. Her hair, her dress, an incredible enchantment—if all went well.
Would all go well? She hadn’t slept since Lyr and the others had left. Two days and a few hours, and she could not even think of sleep until she knew. Had Lyr been successful, or was Ciro headed this way?
Queen Keelia, scantily dressed as usual and smiling widely, approached with a quick step. There was joy in that smile, and Rayne felt the joy to her toes. Still she waited, breath held, for the words to come.
“He did it,” Keelia said before she reached Rayne. “I felt a new light in the world the moment the demon was trapped and Ciro died.”
“Ciro is dead?” Rayne asked. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Keelia placed her hands on Rayne’s shoulders, and those odd golden eyes locked on to hers. “A weight was lifted from us all, and a darkness which had hidden many secrets from me dissolved. There are still a few battles to be fought, but this war is almost over. We won.”
The Queen released her grip on Rayne and spun about, shouting to the nearest green-clad sentinel. “You!”
The young soldier jumped. “Yes, Majesty?”
“There are two brothers here. The Arndell brothers. Do you know them?”
“Yes, Majesty.”
“Are they in camp?”
“They are preparing to ride with General Merin when word comes from the others.”
Keelia shook her head, and long red hair danced. “No. They are to come to me immediately. If Merin gives you any trouble, tell him I insisted. He’s welcome to argue with me himself if he cares to.”
The sentinel nodded and rushed toward the other edge of camp to do as he’d been told.
Keelia said a darkness had been lifted and she could now see. There was so much Rayne wanted to know, and while they waited for the brothers to be fetched, she asked her questions. “Will Lyr be here tonight? Tomorrow? What happens next? For us, I mean, for me and Lyr. Am I carrying a child? Will he ever admit that he loves me?” Her heart caught in her throat. “What will become of me now?”
The Queen’s face remained serene, but there was a touch of amusement in her eyes as she answered, “I can tell you everything you wish to know about your future, with enough time and concentration.”
Rayne smiled herself and gave a soft sigh of relief.
“But I won’t,” Keelia finished, still serene.
“But…” Rayne began.
&nbs
p; “Life is meant to be lived one moment at a time, not planned and set to the last detail.”
“I just want to know what lies ahead.”
Keelia shrugged her shoulders. “Life lies ahead. Life filled with surprise and heartache and laughter. It would spoil the coming if you knew what to expect.”
“At least tell me that Lyr’s all right,” Rayne insisted.
Keelia nodded. “He is well.”
“And tell me that he loves me,” she added in a lowered voice.
Again, Keelia smiled. “Why should I bother to tell you that which you already know in your heart?”
The brothers Keelia had asked for arrived, ending the maddening conversation with an abruptness that left Rayne feeling dissatisfied.
The seer Queen studied the brothers from head to toe. Both were young and handsome, perhaps Lyr’s age or a bit older. One was black-haired and green-eyed, solemn of face and precisely dressed. The other had streaks of blond in his dark brown hair, laughing blue eyes, and a half-smile on a wide mouth. He also wore a uniform, but his was sloppily fastened here and there, and his boots were muddy and had been for days.
“You wished to see us?” the black-haired Arndell asked.
Keelia took a deep breath. “Yes. I must travel south to meet my parents, and I am entrusting our guest into your hands. Watch her. Guard her.” She glanced over her shoulder and caught Rayne’s eye. “She is a very special woman, though she does not yet know how special.”
Again, it was the black-haired brother who spoke. “Your Majesty, we are to ride out with General Merin perhaps as early as this afternoon. When we are called…”
“You have been called,” Keelia said. “You have been called to guard over this woman with your very lives.” She looked from one brother to another. “As you are both Arndell, I would have your given names as well.”
“Trystan,” the black-haired soldier responded.
His brother answered as well. “Devlyn.”
Keelia nodded. “Trystan and Devlyn Arndell, do not leave M’lady Rayne’s side until I return and relieve you of that duty.”
Trystan nodded curtly, though he was evidently disappointed with his new assignment. Devlyn shrugged as if he did not care one way or another.
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