"That's good to know, Finn. I heard about what happened to you. Torture's a nasty business."
"Yeah. Finn glanced away and then back, reticent to speak further of it. This is my wife, Darcy."
Jordan regarded her. She was pretty. The maimed ear simply added character in Jordan's estimation. I hear that you were my father's last student before he died."
Darcy settled in at the table and took the plate of pastries from Finn's lap. Yes. He trained you too, didn't he?"
"To a point. When I was sixteen, he said we were too much alike and sent me to Creeya. I studied under Yukiah Woodbourne and later under Meileilyki in Faewin."
"The Faery Queen?"
"Ayup. I was the first lycan to set foot on their island. They're insular folk."
A look of awe settled into Darcy's eyes.
The sleeve of Jordan's shirt rode up, revealing the bandage on his arm. Darcy pointed at it. I didn't know you were hurt."
Jordan shrugged. Nothing to speak off. That ornery healer of yours insisted on cleaning and bandaging it. The one with the cornflower eyes."
"Sha?"
"Ayup, that one. His eyes turned haunted. I miss my father. I've been meaning to come home for the past five years. But there was always one more renegade to hunt down. One more monster to kill. Now, it's too late."
"Jordy, duty is where you find it. Todd understood. Finn stroked his fingers through Jordan's hair in a gesture of comfort.
"I hope so. I loved my father. Jordan rubbed his hand across his face. I stopped coming home as much after I lost Bethany to one of those spring fevers. I regret it. Always seems to kill more bitches and cubs than grown dogs."
Finn bit into a pastry and chewed for several minutes before responding. Quinn doesn't talk much about his ma."
"Cherished things lost, Finn. Sometimes we hold them closest by not speaking of them. Jordan snagged a pastry. Every mon handles grief in his own way. Look at Queran. Every time I see him, he's got a block of wood in his hand whittling. Jordan shook himself loose from his memories and eyed Darcy again. So you're Lord General of Red Wolf."
"You got a problem with that? Darcy bristled.
"None whatsoever. My father always said one day the bitches would come into their own."
Darcy warmed with a smile. Finn's right. You're a lot like him."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
* * * *
Reist slept lightly. The creak of the intervening door between his bedroom and Regina's plunged him to full wakefulness and he grabbed his dagger from beneath his pillow. Regina stood illumined by the candle she held. She wore a dressing robe wrapped around her nightgown.
"What is it? Reist laid the dagger on the nightstand.
"Three Stones, Gateshead, Whiteford, and now Anglecyn. I'm frightened. What if we can't stop them?"
She sat the candle on the opposite nightstand, and climbed onto his bed. Her robe opened slightly and Reist caught a glimpse of her fair breasts.
"We'll stop them, Reggie. He pulled her robe closed. If you wish to talk, get dressed first."
She gripped his hands, removed them, and opened her robe, revealing herself to him. Comfort me. Make me forget for a little while."
"Are you certain? I made you a promise ... I wouldn't ask for my conjugal rights."
"It's not you asking. It's me."
Reist drew her into his arms and kissed her, holding her in the corner of his arm as his other hand explored her body. He chuckled as he disrobed her. You're so aggravating at times."
"You love it."
"I know. His mouth covered her nipple and she moaned.
* * * *
Ever since finding Ros mutilated body, Malthus had felt sick inside, vacillating between rage and sorrow. In the pit of his being it seemed as if an eternity had passed since he first crossed the bridge into Red Wolf; supremely confident in his ability to achieve his goals. Hoon had summoned the best bounty hunters and mercenaries that the sa'necari had produced to take on a handful of dangerous missions. As best of the best, Malthus had been given first choice of them. He had chosen the Red Wolf assignment for several reasons. Among them, his half-brother, Troyes Iagaris, had vanished here nearly five years ago. Also, he had a fetish for lycans; most of his lovers had come from that race.
After reading reports on the realm, Malthus had decided to use his nieces as his excuse for going there and staying. The two pretty little girls won him the sympathy he needed from the lycan folk, who opened their doors and hearts to them as refugees from the war in Waejontor. He had felt secure in his ability to keep them safe. Now Ros was dead; and Lyrri had become so terrified that she spent most of her time hiding, emerging only when he called out to her.
He knew that Ossian was closing in on him. The lawgiver had ordered the militia to patrol the roads leading out of Wolffgard, and doubled the compliment of Bridge Watchers on duty. Ossian was waiting for Malthus to try and make a break for it. He could not leave without Lyrri; he did not want to leave without Merissa and his sons. However, if he had to abandon one to save the other, he would leave behind his sons and Merissa. The lycans would not harm them. Lyrri was another matter. She was sa'necari-born. If something happened to him, there was every reason for him to believe the lycans would kill Lyrri.
Malthus had to plan for eventualities; for getting himself and Lyrri safely out of Wolffgard, if worse came to worst. He went down to Isbeth's room and dropped the bar across the door. His arrival startled Isbeth. She sat nursing her infant, seated in a chair by the cradle.
"What do you wish, Master Malthus?"
"Put the brat down and join me at the table."
If they took Waejonan's ring from his hand, Malthus would be revealed as sa'necari. He had a theory, however, and was about to give it a try.
As Isbeth watched him, he took a knife out and began cutting around the finger that wore the ring. Gritting his teeth, he opened a flap of skin and peeled it back. He shoved the ring under the skin close to the knuckle to disguise its presence, drew the flap over it, and gestured peremptorily at Isbeth.
She laid her child in his cradle and joined Malthus. He grasped her wrist, sank his fangs into her, and sucked the blood out. His finger healed over the ring. It looked like a calcium deposit from an old injury.
Now, if they stripped him of his rings, the lawgivers would not find that one.
* * * *
Kynyr stood in the center of the largest suite in the manor. He had never suspected that anything this splendid existed there.
"This was Suleahan's. My Father's. Stone ran his hand over the gold-leafed arm of a sturdy chair. This was his favorite chair."
"As king, this should be mine and Kady's."
"No. It should be yours alone."
"Why?"
"Let me show you."
Stone led Kynyr into the master bedroom of the suite, walked to a door on the side, and gestured for Kynyr to enter. He found another bedroom.
"This is the main bedroom of the Queen's suite. It was my mother's. Or so I thought."
"Sorcha was not your mother?"
Stone shook his head. My mother was Ardala, daughter of Tala and Hadjys. My father's lover. I was born two days before Fianait and delivered to my father on the night that Fianait was born. Sorcha covered Suleahan's indiscretion by saying she had borne twins."
"That was generous of her."
"She was kind and understanding. I'm told that her heart broke the night that I was exiled. She died the following winter."
"Kynyr! Darcy burst into the room, breathing hard. Come home quick!"
"What's wrong?"
"Kady's gone into labor."
"It's too early."
"Mary says the stress brought it on."
Kynyr followed Darcy into the hallway, gripped by a tense urgency to be with his wife. Ahead of him, he spied the one person he had no desire to encounter.
Jocelyn stopped speaking with Vertram and stepped into his path. So your slut is going to lose y
our son. It serves you right. I hope they both die."
Kynyr stopped to avoid colliding with her. You're lucky I don't hit bitches."
"Too bad. I will. Darcy grinned and backhanded Jocelyn into a wall.
Jocelyn struck hard and crumpled, weeping.
Kynyr rolled his eyes at the ceiling. If you don't mind... He strode on.
Jocelyn glared at Darcy and then turned to Vertram. Help me, Vertram, she whined. Help me. She hurt me."
The thane of Chandler's Rock shrugged and made no move toward her. I think Darcy was within her rights."
"That's General MacIver to you, thane. Darcy tucked her thumbs in her belt.
"General MacIver. He gave her a polite bow.
"And don't forget it, Stone added. She killed Lairgan Yates in single combat."
Silence settled over the watching crowd.
Vertram studied Darcy for a moment. Impressive feat. No wonder you're the general."
"It's what Todd trained me for. Darcy loped off to overtake Kynyr.
* * * *
Kady sweated through contractions. She lay with her feet in the pair of crude stirrups on what Qaseem called a birthing bed; another of the new inventions to come out of Creeya since the discovery of the ancient library of Louistrana. An assistant wiped her face with a cool damp cloth.
They had shaved her womanly parts and that made Kady feel all the more naked and exposed.
Power kept flashing through her and over her in intermittent rainbow patterns. The premature birth had triggered her talents. Kady had no control over it and no idea what was happening to her. She struggled to ride it, but coupled with the contractions it overwhelmed her senses. Kady whimpered as much in confusion as pain.
Pandeena entered the room alongside Kynyr. She went to Kady and extended her power through her. Breathe deep, Kady. Enter rapport with me before you hurt someone."
"Can I touch her? Kynyr asked, watching Kady's eyes close.
"No. Cahira came in and put her arm around him. You might knock her out of rapport."
"Gram...."
"No, come away with me, Kynyr."
Qaseem looked up at Mary. We'll have to turn him. He's in the wrong position."
"I'll get the obstetrical forceps. Mary went to the cabinet.
Kynyr glanced back at them and then left with Cahira. He followed her to the kitchen and settled into a chair, feeling sick and weary. If I lose Kady..."
"You're not going to lose Kady. Cahira stroked her grandson's head.
"Aghavie died in childbirth."
"Kady isn't Aghavie."
Kynyr glanced around him. He had never seen the kitchen this empty before. Where is everyone?"
"My sons are sitting with their father. I'm sitting with you. Cahira went to a cabinet and returned with a bottle of whiskey and cups. She rarely drank hard liquor, but it seemed a good night for it.
Kynyr accepted the cup gratefully, his eyes going distant with brooding. Being king isn't going to be easy."
"What makes you say that?"
"Thinking about the Dohertys. I had a confrontation with Jocelyn on my way over. Darcy knocked her into a wall."
"What did she say?"
"That she hoped Kady and Fergus died. She's getting on my nerves, Gram. Kynyr took another sip from his cup. And I don't know what to do about it."
"Marry her off to someone unimportant. You're king. Issue a royal decree and get rid of her."
"I can do that?"
"Yes, you can. Cahira squeezed his arm. When I first lost Todd, I wanted to follow him. I've outlived both myn I loved. But you need me. A king needs an advisor who knows what it is all about. So I'll stay until I'm so withered and old I look like a misplaced twig."
Kynyr hugged his grandmother and kissed her cheek. I love you, Gram. You've always been there for me."
"I know. She hugged him back. Now about Jocelyn. Marry her off or toss her into a meditative convent where she's never allowed out."
Cahira kept her grandson distracted while they waited for news of his son's birth, filling his mind with all the things that a king could and could not do. The time passed quickly.
Pandeena came in. Kynyr, you have a son."
"And Kady?"
"She's fine too. Exhausted, but fine."
"Is Fergus healthy? I mean, coming so early?"
Pandeena laughed at Kynyr's concern. He's as developed as a full term cub. That's what all the power fluctuations were about. You have an amazing wife."
"Can I see them?"
"Yes, but I must warn you."
"Of what?"
"He's mage-born. It will be years before we know his full potentials, but he's got the brightest aura I have ever seen in a newborn."
* * * *
The three brothers sat with Todd's body. Jordan had finally let go and wept.
Cooley crept in and crawled into a chair near Trevor. He wore a robe over his pajamas. Can I sit with you?"
Trevor stared at him. What's wrong?"
"I keep having nightmares."
"About Todd?"
"No. Well, sort of. About my ma wanting to eat me ... and I try to find Todd to protect me and he's not there anymore."
Jordan straightened in his seat and looked at Cooley. Why would she want to eat you?"
"Waller says she's a vampire now. And she sent me a letter."
"What did the letter say, Cooley? Trevor asked.
"I'm afraid to read it."
Jordan came over and lifted Cooley into his arms. Why don't you let me read it first?"
Cooley snuggled against Jordan as he once had Todd. If there's anything scary in it, don't tell me."
"I won't."
They fetched the letter and returned to their seats in the drawing room. Cooley watched apprehensively as Jordan opened the letter and began to read.
My Dear son, Cooley,
I ask your forgiveness for what I have done. I did it to gain vengeance for your father. I loved Cullen with all my heart.
This is both a way of telling you I love you and to warn you of many dangers. Lord Hoon has sent agents to kidnap you because you are a prince of Waejontor. His agent in Wolffgard is named Malthus Estrobian. You must inform Kynyr Maguire of that. Tell him also that should he attempt to liberate Anglecyn, I will betray Lord Hoon to him.
Remember always that I love you.
Your loving mother,
Silkanna Mircala de Waejonan.
"Damn it! Damn it! Where's Kynyr? Jordan stood up, fire in his eyes and barely controlled rage in his manner.
Cooley cowered in his chair. Kady had her baby."
Trevor's brow furrowed. She'll be in the infirmary most likely. Come on, Cooley. Let's get you some tea and cookies."
Taking Cooley by the hand, Trevor led him out.
Jordan strode through the hallways at a rapid pace. The lateness of the hour had emptied the corridors, so there was nothing to slow him down. He burst into the infirmary, startling Qaseem who was sitting at his desk with his weary head in his hands. Where's Kynyr?"
Kynyr stepped around one of the folding screens. Here. Come see my son."
"No time for that. We're betrayed."
The smile vanished from Kynyr's face. By whom?"
"Malthus. He's an agent of Lord Hoon's. Jordan brandished the letter in Kynyr's face.
Kynyr took it from him and read it, his mouth tightening. Come on. We've got the bastard now."
"What do you intend to do?"
"Fetch Ossian. As Merissa's husband, he's a prince of the realm. A bit more problematic about hanging him."
"I'd just gut him."
Kynyr shook his head. I'd like to. However, I don't dare make a habit of hanging myn without a trial. The thanes are spooked enough over what I did to Clennan."
"I'll fetch Ossian, Pandeena volunteered and they noticed her for the first time.
Kynyr gave Pandeena a long considering look. We might as well get all my affairs in order at the same time. Fetch Ossian."
* * * *
Malthus sat in the parlor of the suite lost in contemplating his options; his feet propped up on the low table, a glass of wine in his hand. Waejontor was out of the question, with both the Sharani occupiers and Lord Hoon's people hunting him. Shaurone held no haven for him. Creeya had been alerted to his presence, and he felt certain that he would find the passes guarded against him. His only option was to go east into the Iradrim Mountains and try to make his way to Doronar. The dead of winter was no time to try crossing Red Wolf with a little girl in tow; and he would not abandon Lyrri.
A loud knocking came at the outer door. Malthus frowned and answered it.
Ossian shoved the door open all the way, nearly hitting Malthus with it. His brothers stood behind him with the three Sinclair brothers. They appeared well prepared for a fight.
"What is this about? Malthus demanded.
"In the name of the king, you are under arrest as a foreign agent and provocateur."
Malthus stiffened. I assume you do this on good evidence?"
"The evidence will come out in your trial."
"So be it. Malthus did not resist as they bound his hands behind him and hurried him from the manor. Now was not the time.
* * * *
Darmyk Redhand woke confused. His head ached, his sides felt tender, and his belly had swollen hard. The last thing he remembered was Ros leading him into the forest to kill him. A gentle hand stroked his face. His eyes focused and he saw the young, dark-skinned mon sitting on the edge of his bed.
"I want my mama, Darmyk moaned.
"Your mama's not here. I'm Silkie. I'm going to take care of you."
The name sounded familiar. He searched his memory and found it. Cooley's mama."
"Yes, she said in a soothing tone. I'm Cooley's mama."
"Ros was gonna eat me. Malthus was going to kill me. Darmyk blinked, surprised at what had come out of his mouth. I can say it."
"Yes, darling. You can say it. Silkie continued to stroke him and smile. I don't know how much you understand, but all the nasty things are gone from your head. Your Uncle Hoon got them out."
"My family breeds true. Hoon leaned against the mantelpiece with a glass of wine in his hand. The consanguinity is obvious. He looks like the very son of my brother. How Malthus could have thought to fool me with the other child is beyond comprehension."
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