WINDREAPER

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  "I saw him as he really is. I saw his real nature." She looked at Cayn. "I saw the Dark Overlord, Himself, last eve." She shivered. "Conar is no longer Conar."

  "I don't understand, Milady."

  "It doesn't matter, Cayn. I know, now, how I am to help him."

  "How?" Gezelle asked.

  Liza gazed out over the murky green expanse of the grotto. "I must have these bracelets melted into one, then two talismans must be minted. Our combined power is what the White Path needs to finally destroy Tohre."

  * * *

  Somewhere in the vast reaches of time, of space, of eternity, an entity stirred from a long slumber. She stretched, yawned, and came slowly awake, wondering who had called Her from Her rest. Stretching Her arms wide across the firmament, She turned Her attention to the earth below and searched for the one who had been calling Her all day long.

  Seeing the young woman who sat beside the jeweler's worktable, the entity smiled. Soon, She thought, in rapidly vanishing sleepiness. Soon they would be joined once more.

  She frowned.

  There were chants coming up to Her from the world. She strained to hear the words, picking them out of millions and millions of other prayers and entreaties and curses.

  Occultus' words were not particularly pleasant to Her ears. Kaileel's were repugnant. But She grasped the message the two sorcerers extended to another of the deities and decided to lend Her own entreaties to the gods and goddesses who had already been called upon to assist in the saving of Conar's life.

  The Great Oracle's voice rose to a tinkling pitch, seemed to drown all the others sounds. She had slept a long time within the Shadowland's imprisonment, but now She was free once more, and Her sisters were free along with Her. She looked at familiar faces that began to drift around Her.

  There was Medea, the girl's adopted mother. Moira, the boy's dame. Standing quietly and respectfully beside Moira was the little Chrystallusian girl, Se Huan, with the big doe eyes and the gentle smile.

  "Pray with me, sisters," the Great Oracle asked.

  "Elizabeth's words are growing stronger," Medea remarked.

  "Aye," the Great Oracle acknowledged. "Do you hear the other voices?"

  Moira McGregor stepped forward. "I hear the men's voices. Is that Raphaella, as well?" At the Great Oracle's nod, she asked who the other voice belonged to.

  "The Great Lady," the Oracle answered. "She pleads for the life of her soul-mate, Conar."

  The Great Oracle turned Her attention to the young man caught in the throes of a horrible convulsion. She joined her prayers with those of her sisters for Conar McGregor's life.

  * * *

  Alone in her room, the newly-minted talisman in her hand, Liza could see Conar lying unconscious in the shower room. Her powers had returned full force and she clearly heard Occultus' and Kaileel's words. Rummaging through her things, she found the black crystal dagger she had not touched in more than ten years and left her room, heading for the Wind Temple.

  Going to the room where he lay would have afforded her nothing. Going to the source of his power-sorcery, would.

  Alone in the Temple, she began a different set of prayers to a power she knew was now awake, stirring. Occultus and Tohre might fail to gain the attention they sought, but Liza knew she already had the ear of the only One who could intercede with the complete assurance of success.

  Her pleas flew straight through the static of humming chants and prayers to fall on the ear of She who was already listening.

  Chapter 25

  * * *

  All through the night, the men from the Outer Kingdom took turns holding Conar beneath the strong flow of icy water. They rejoiced when he stirred, groaned when he fell back asleep. Three times he had crossed over from the place of no light to the land where light glowed only at the edges. Near dawn, he had awakened sufficiently enough for Cayn, who once more stood vigil with the others, to order him put to bed with a strong command that he was not sleep.

  "Get that damned tea Jah-Ma-El ordered down his throat!" the Healer snapped. "He might choke on it, but, it doesn't matter! He can't be any closer to death than he is right now!'

  Conar drifted in and out of a state of semi-awareness. Tea dribbled down his chin and onto his chest. Fresh shirts were pulled over his head, his face washed, and he only mumbled incoherently.

  The men of the Wind Force stood at Conar's bedside, taking turns caring for him, while The Outer Kingdom Warriors, huddled in thick blankets, mugs of some colorless, odorless liquor in their beefy hands, sat vigil in the corner.

  * * *

  By midday three days later, Conar was awake enough to know where he was, and was not happy about it. When he realized one of his ankles was chained to the footboard, he was particularly outraged. He was in his room, a room he had never wanted to see again, for it was the room where he and Elizabeth had slept, and made love, as husband and wife. He jerked against the chain and screamed his fury.

  "You'll live," a dry voice called from the half-open door. "Anyone who can screech like that can't be dying."

  "What the hell am I doing here?"

  "It's called recuperating." Roget stepped into the room and turned to Legion, entering behind him. "He's his usual merry self."

  "Who the hell chained me to this damned bed?"

  After shutting the door, Legion A'Lex came to stand by the bed. He said nothing, just stared at Conar with an unemotional, detached look on his bearded face.

  "Did you have me chained to this fucking bed, A'Lex?" Conar snarled. His yelling had tired him out as though he was an old man.

  Legion didn't say a word.

  Roget pulled a chair toward the bed and straddled it, leaning his forearms on the chair's back. "He wanted to know what he's doing here."

  "I suppose he thought he'd be somewhere else by now," Legion remarked dryly. "Somewhere safer than here."

  "Fooled him, didn't we?" Roget laughed.

  "Will one of you tell me what I'm doing here, chained to this fu—"

  "Another outburst like that and we'll leave," Legion said.

  Conar tried to ignore the throbbing pain in his head. He was sick to his stomach. His hands shook so badly when he ran them over his stubbled face that he had to put them to his sides. The rash on his chest and arms burned like a fire out of control, making him squirm with intense agony. He looked into his brother's uncompromising face and clamped his mouth shut on the shout threatening to erupt.

  "Are you coherent enough for me to talk to you?" Legion asked. "Can you understand what I'm saying?"

  "I'm not deaf."

  Roget chuckled. "No, not deaf, just stupid."

  "And he did a particularly stupid thing that caused a lot of good people trouble," Legion commented.

  "You shouldn't have stopped me." Conar turned his face away from Roget's scrutiny.

  "Ungrateful pup, isn't he?" Roget laughed.

  Legion sat on the edge of the bed and grasped Conar's chin. When Conar tried to jerk away his head, Legion increased the pressure. "Be still!"

  Again, Conar tried to pull his chin free, but Legion's cruel fingers bit into Conar's flesh. Putting up a trembling hand, he was about to pry away his brother's fingers, but Legion's cold voice stopped him.

  "Put your hand down!"

  Ignoring the command, he put his fingers over Legion's hand only to yelp when the pressure on his chin became a crushing grip.

  "I said put you hand down!" Legion punctuated each word with a sharp jerk on Conar's face. Conar's hand dropped tiredly to the coverlet. Giving Conar's chin one final, vicious tug, Legion released him.

  "I think you got his attention now," Roget quipped.

  "He thinks he can do whatever the hell he wants," Legion snapped. "I'm going to prove to him that he can't."

  "You told me to leave, A'Lex!" Conar snarled. "Why'd you stop me?"

  "Because I didn't want to give you the satisfaction of doing what you wanted. I made sure you'd live so you'd have to atone for all the
grief you caused by that one thoughtless, selfish act!"

  "No one cared whether I lived or died. Not after what I did."

  "Not only ungrateful, but overly melodramatic, as well," Roget taunted. "Shall I have violins brought in, Legion?"

  "It's no laughing matter!" Conar shouted with what waning bit of strength he had left.

  "That you have right!" Legion hissed. "It was no laughing matter what you did to Liza, nor what you attempted to do to yourself. None of us felt like laughing while we tended you these last three days, cleaned up your puke and piss and shit like you were a babe! We didn't laugh when we had to hold you down when you went into convulsions, or when we poured tea down your ungrateful throat! We sure as hell weren't laughing every time you closed your eyes and wouldn't open them!" Legion put his face close to Conar's. "We never left your side until this morn when Cayn said it was safe to do so. Then you were sleeping normally and not in that self-induced drugged slumber. We prayed and begged and pleaded with every god known to let you live. We did everything in our power to keep you from dying!"

  "Why bother? I'll try it again, and next time you won't be there to stop me!"

  * * *

  Legion itched to grab his estranged brother and shake some sense into him. Instead, he stood and walked toward the window. He was so furious, he didn't trust himself to speak.

  Roget also stood, swinging his long leg over the chair. "That goes to prove what I've known all along, Conar—you're stupider than I thought if you think Legion, or any of us, will allow you to try that stunt again."

  "You can't stop me!"

  A frosty smile of evil humor lit du Mer's face. "We'll just see!" He stormed from the room.

  Complete silence reigned when du Mer left. Legion turned his back to Conar and gazed over the garden, watched water rushing to shore beyond the bars of the sea gate. Though he was angrier than he had ever been, he didn't want to show that anger, or the despair, eating at his soul. A decision had been made among the brothers—Brelan, Jah-Ma-El, and himself. Even as he stood looking through the window, the plan had been set into motion.

  Squaring his shoulders, he turned and met Conar's dull, vacant gaze. Taking a deep breath, he prepared for the battle of wills he knew would come. He walked to the bed and put his hand on the headboard. "You've noticed that you're chained."

  Conar glared at him. "I noticed."

  "And those chains are iron." When Conar only stared with contempt, Legion nodded toward the manacles. "Iron forged so not even your magic can break it?"

  Conar didn't answer, just scratched at his chest.

  "Do you wonder why we've taken such a precaution?"

  "The thought crossed my mind."

  "Well, at least you're capable of thought. That's an improvement on the stupidity of a few days ago."

  "Just unchain me and I'll leave! That was what you ordered me to do!"

  "You aren't going anywhere—alone." Legion smiled, but the smile was grim, humorless. "First thing Monday morning, Jah-Ma-El, Brelan, Teal, Roget, and I are taking you to Ivor Keep. Shalu and Sentian are already there, and Storm, Marsh, and Thom are on their way." He shrugged. "Unfortunately, Ching-Ching was called back to Chrystallus."

  "Why are you taking me there?"

  "I thought that was obvious."

  "Damn it!" Conar exploded. "Not to me, it isn't!"

  Legion's smile slipped from his face. "Then let me explain it in simple terms. The garrison I had stationed at Ivor Keep has been sent to Zephyrus and Eurus. There is a skeleton crew of hand-picked servants to do the cooking, cleaning, and wash, but no one who would interfere in what we have planned."

  "That being what?"

  Legion ignored the question. "Something else that is not at Ivor Keep is liquor. No liquor, no drugs. And there will be no one who will either brew, gather, buy, or procure anything for you. In other words—the keep is dry."

  * * *

  Conar drew in a long breath. They meant to purge the drugs and liquor from his system, and he knew all too well how excruciatingly difficult the withdrawal could be. With his body beginning to burn, he was already beginning to feel the stirrings. "Don't do this, Legion."

  "I can and I will!"

  "You have no idea what being without the drug will do to me." Just the thought of it made Conar scratch harder at his prickling flesh.

  "Marsh told me what he went through. I know it's not going to be easy, but we will be there. We can—"

  "You can't do this, Legion!"

  "Someone has to help you or you'll wind up killing yourself."

  Conar began to itch so badly, he clawed mindlessly at his chest and arms. "I can do it on my own. A little at a time! I can decrease the dosage. I can go almost an entire day without it now."

  "Will you listen to yourself?" Legion's brows drew together with concern. "Look at what you're doing to your arms! They're bleeding! Ching-Ching says you've got enough of that poison in your system to last nearly two more days."

  As he contemplated being made to go totally without the numbness the drug gave him, Conar neared the point of hysteria. He was beyond rational thought; all he cared about was making Legion see reason, making Legion see he could not live without the drug.

  "I can go almost an entire day," he repeated, digging at his arms, feeling blood gathering under his nails, but not feeling any pain. "If I just take it every other day, then after a few weeks, every two days—"

  "Almost an entire day? For the love of Alel—you'll go without it for the rest of your life! I'll see to that!"

  "I can't!" Conar jerked against the leg restraint. "Going totally without it will kill me, don't you see?"

  "No, you won't die. You might wish you could, but you won't. We'll be there with you. Every step of the way. There's nothing to discuss. The matter's been settled."

  "Settled by whom?"

  "Your brothers. Those who love you."

  "You don't give a rat's ass about me!" Conar screamed. "All you want is my woman and you already have her! Now you want my life?"

  Legion shook his head. "That's the drug talking, not you. I'm not going to listen to you rant about something that we both know is a closed subject."

  Conar decided to change his tactics. His mouth stretched into a grim line of hope, meant to resemble a smirk. But his hands shook and his body shuddered while he feverishly dug at the rash over his arms and chest. "I know you hate me, but this is a cruel revenge. Don't make me suffer for being the one she really wants."

  Legion shook his head. "If you believe nothing else I say, believe this—I don't hate you, and I am not making you suffer because I believe it is you Liza wants. If she wanted you so badly, why isn't she here?"

  Conar's hope died. His lips drew back in a hateful snarl.

  "I am doing this because I care what happens to you. If that is cruel, if seeing you completely well is revenge, then so be it."

  "You're doing it because you're afraid she'll come back to me!"

  "I don't believe she will." Legion walked toward the door. "You shamed her, treated her like you would a whore."

  "She is my whore!" Conar spat, jerking on the chain. "And always will be! I give her what she needs, A'Lex! I give her what she wants!"

  Legion fixed Conar with a calm, detached look. "At least I don't have to rape her to have her." He opened the door and left, closing the portal with a gentle click.

  Chapter 26

  * * *

  He was watched constantly.

  Sometimes they left him alone, although there were two guards always outside his door; he had been unhooked from the chain that kept him in bed, but the band around his ankle had been left in place. Legion had told him the iron would block his magic. When he was allowed up, the band effectively seemed to bar him from doing what he most wanted to do—escape.

  Now, stalking about the room, dreading the trip that would take him to Ivor the next morning, his upper lip lifted in scorn.

  They had taken away the clothing from his armoi
re, the drapery cords, belts and socks, bedding and drapes, anything with which he could fashion a knot. Nothing sharp—metal, glass, wood—was left. The room had been stripped of nearly everything, save mattress, brass bed, and chamber pot into which he had not bothered to relieve himself, rather using the floor just to see the anger on Legion's face.

  "You want to act like an animal, then live like an animal!" Legion had snapped, throwing a plate of food on the floor at Conar's feet.

  Growling like an animal, Conar stomped barefoot to his window and hissed at the condensation on the glass. He swiped viciously at the moisture, clearing a small circle, and glared into the garden. His furious scrutiny swept over the snow-laden flagstone, leapt over the frozen fountain, and stopped at the lacy, ice-draped willow. He widened the circle of clarity, rubbing briskly at the foggy pane until he had a better view of the tree and what was beneath its spreading branches. He leaned closer to the cold windowpane, pressing his forehead against the glass.

  Her back was to the keep, but Conar would have recognized the glowing sunset hair, despite the snow falling around her. He knew the slim body only too well, and could see the gleam of gold on her upraised wrist as the trinket—a slender, twisted loop of tri-colored gold he had given her for her birthday—gleamed in a peripatetic ray of fading sunlight.

  "Amber-Lea," he whispered, his breath fogging the window. He swiped at the glass and saw the man standing with her take her tenderly in his arms and kiss her. Their bodies molded against one another like two halves coming together to make a whole, like the pieces of a puzzle that have joined many times, as though from being placed alongside one another time and time again.

  "Oh, god!" he sighed.

  She was to go with him on the morrow. Legion had come to Conar on her behalf, had asked if she could accompany him to Ivor to help care for him.

  "Why should she want to?" he snarled, remembering his last night with the girl when she had made him feel guilt over indulging himself with whores Sern had provided.

  "Why do you do these things, Milord?" she had asked. "Why do you need other women? Don't I satisfy you?"