“You may call me whatever you’d like. We’re still getting properly married when the opportunity arises.”
“If you insist,” she teased.
“I do.”
At that moment, Ariana saw something in the man she now called husband that she had almost given up on. Hope.
***
Sian hated leaving the horses at the way station with the young Anwyn male who looked a bit taller than he but was surely no more than thirteen years old. He’d heard that the Anwyn males were tall, but he was still taken aback. Not only was the boy large and possessed of Anwyn golden eyes, but he would turn into a wolf on the three nights when the moon was full.
He was sure the boy would take good care of the horses. The lad seemed quite capable. But to be on foot for days to come seemed barbaric.
Not that the horses could’ve handled the steep and rocky path he and Ariana walked upon.
He loved her. Maybe she was carrying his child, maybe she was not. She called him husband, but he still wanted a ceremony. Maybe in The City, maybe when they returned to Arthes. He wanted her bound to him in all ways. By heart, by body, by soul, and by law.
There were things he should tell her before that day came. He’d searched for the right words for days, but they would not come. Oh, by the way, one day I might be emperor. Just thought you should know...
No, he had to find the proper way to share the news.
The path before them had turned level for a stretch. “You mentioned that you might be able to heal Arik. Do you think it possible?”
“Maybe.” She turned and smiled at him. “I believe his illness is somehow connected to the Isen Demon. If I can snatch back dark souls the demon has taken, then why can’t I heal Arik?” She again turned her eyes to the path. “After I deliver the Anwyn army to Merin, I’ll return to Arthes and try.”
“Will Arik live that long?”
“That is not in my hands,” she said calmly.
The path grew steep again, and they stopped talking. The green trousers he had stolen before sneaking out of the palace were too big for her, held in place by a belt she’d fashioned from a length of rope, but when she climbed just so the fabric molded to her backside and created a pretty picture. He was tempted to rush to catch up with her, grab her, kiss her, and make love to her right here under the sun. It wasn’t as if there was anyone around to watch, unless he counted the small critters that occasionally scurried from their path. He did not.
Sian rushed to get closer, but he did not grab Ariana. Not yet. “There’s something I must tell you.”
She glanced at him, suspicion in her eyes. “I don’t like the sound of that, or the uncertainty that’s pouring off of you.”
“I had to fall in love with an empath,” he said as he moved to walk beside her, as the current trail was wider than it had been to this point. “I don’t suppose I will ever be able to lie to you.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “You can try if you’d like. Now, don’t make me wait. What is it that has you so tense?”
He took her arm and spun her about, bringing them both to a halt on the rocky trail. This was best said eye to eye, so he could better judge her immediate reaction. Besides, she was getting winded, and he knew she would not stop for even the shortest rest on her own account. “Before I left Arthes, Arik called me to his chamber. He said that he has another son, an illegitimate son who was kept ignorant of his true parentage for many years.”
Ariana smiled. “That’s wonderful!”
“Not really,” Sian mumbled. He smoothed back a strand of wayward hair. “It’s me, apparently.”
He had not thought anything could take her by surprise, but this did. “I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I. All I know is that if you can heal Arik and he lives to father another son, this secret can remain a secret. I don’t want to be emperor, but more than that, I don’t want my mother’s name to be sullied. I don’t want the man who raised me as his own to be disrespected by gossip and supposition. Arik is not too old to marry and have more children.”
Ariana sighed. “Even if I can’t save him, even if Arik doesn’t have an heir, there might be a way to save you from this.”
She seemed confident, but he could think of nothing but a miracle that would save him. Of course, miracles were possible. He knew that now.
“While I was dead...”
His heart leapt. “I wish you’d begin that sentence another way,” he said. “Those are words I wish never to hear again.”
She smiled lightly, understanding. “After my visit with Uncle Duran, I was intercepted for a short time.”
“Intercepted?”
“I was somehow pulled aside by whatever remains of Emperor Sebestyen,” she added. “Not a ghost, not a soul at rest, but... a lost spirit, I suppose.”
The idea was terrifying. To be in the hands of lost loved ones was one thing, but to come face to face with one such as Sebestyen... “What did he want?”
“He said he had two sons. Twins! They survived and have been in hiding all this time.”
“Is that possible?”
Ariana shrugged. “I’m going to do my best to find out.” Before she could say more, they found themselves suddenly and completely surrounded by the most hideous creatures Sian had ever seen.
Chapter Eighteen
It happened so fast, for a moment Ariana didn’t breathe. What were those things? At quick glance she counted eight of them. They seemed to be half mountain cat, half man, standing upright but sporting vicious claws. They were primarily covered in hair that ranged from black to yellow and everything in between, but also sported sporadic patches of weathered skin that appeared to be human. Each wore a dark stone around its—his?—neck, but nothing else.
Were they animals or men? They appeared to be neither.
The creatures attacked. Ariana and Sian drew their weapons, each gripping a sword in one hand and a knife in the other. They adopted a back-to-back position, which was the only way to assure that neither would be struck from behind.
“Shield yourself,” Sian ordered.
“I’m trying!” She did her best to cast the unreliable shield not only around herself but around Sian as well. The magical armor gave her only a minimal advantage, but at the moment she’d gladly take it.
The animals moved in closer, wary of the weapons but certainly not afraid. Two dropped down and approached on all fours, and it seemed that one of them attempted to smile. He showed yellowed, sharp teeth and a shine of spittle. Ariana’s mouth went dry. The beasts would attack low and high. Even with their magic, how could they defend themselves well from all angles?
One on one, she could hold her own. This battle would not be one on one.
“It was worth it,” she said in a lowered voice. “No matter what happens, having you was worth everything.”
“Don’t talk like this is over,” Sian insisted, and then the animals pounced.
Ariana had taken her battle lessons to heart, and she wielded her blades as well as any sentinel who’d had no more training or practice than she. The first beast to move in was easily killed with a swipe of her short but sharp sword. The second to come at her slipped on a loose scrabble of rock—thanks to the shield perhaps?—giving Ariana the opportunity to dip down, lunge forward, and plunge her knife into the area where the heart should be, while holding another creature at bay with the sword. The creature she stabbed fell, and the one that came into contact with her sword blade backed away, one arm cut. She could not see how Sian fought, but his back remained against hers and she heard the screech of a wounded animal.
Again two came at her at the same time—the one she had wounded and another—and she tensed, lifting her sword to meet the one nearest the front. The blade nicked the stone that hung against a chest which was mostly covered with chestnut hair, and the spark that resulted was almost blinding. The wounded thing shrieked and jumped back, then landed on all fours.
“What was that?” Sian
asked crisply.
“I don’t know.”
When a large brown creature tried to move in from the side, Sian waved his knife-wielding hand in that direction. A large rock flew up from the edge of the path and hit the creature in the snout. It dropped, dazed and bloody.
Ariana could not even think of trying to move a weapon with the magic Sian had taught her, while continuing to fight with her blades and maintaining anything of the shield. There was no way she could concentrate enough to accomplish even sending a pebble into an attacker’s eye. Her accuracy had never been consistent, in any case. No, she could rely only on the weapons in her hands and the protection of her empath’s shield.
She knocked another creature back with her sword, and when he was down, she took a moment to assess the situation. Her heart lightened. At least four were dead. The wounded were backing away. She and Sian might actually win, even though when this battle had begun, the odds had been a disheartening eight to two. The catlike beasts were violent and had an advantage in numbers, but they didn’t seem to have a plan and they did not work together. They just pounced and crouched, baring their teeth and slashing with their claws.
Just when Ariana was sure she and Sian would win this battle, six more of the creatures came over the hill, dashing her hopes. How many were there? How long would she and Sian come close to winning only to see more of the hideous creatures headed their way? For all she knew, there were hundreds of them, and they would keep coming and fighting until she and Sian were dead. All she could do was take them on as they came, one—perhaps two—at a time. She took a deep breath and resumed her fighting stance.
Without warning, rocks that had been lying on the ground all around them lifted into the air. Large, small, sharp and round, they rose up off the path as if lifted by invisible hands.
Sian.
The beasts were taken aback by the display of magic, that was made clear by their tentative stances and puzzled catlike eyes. The floating rocks began to whirl about in a circle, effectively protecting her and Sian from attack. The rocks moved quickly, high and low, spinning in a defensive orbit. How long could he maintain this effort? Ariana pressed her back to his and did her best to assist him, to add her strength to his. After all, they were connected deeply, to the soul, to the heart... they were one in many ways.
One beast tried to break through the shield, and a stone whacked alongside its misshapen head. The thing squealed, making a horrible sound as it backed away. Ariana could feel the effort radiating from Sian’s body and from his heart, but the stones which circled about did not slow or drop.
Another beast rushed forward, suffering only a minor collision with a smallish rock. Sian’s sword was ready, and he cut the animal down with precision.
“I won’t let them have you, Ariana.”
“I know, love,” she said. She believed him, she truly did, but she also knew that he could not defend them with these swirling rocks forever. If the beasts did not grow tired of waiting and run away, if they were not frightened away by Sian’s magic, then she and Sian would eventually face them all with only their swords for defense.
Their swords, and their love, and their determination not to give up the fight.
Ariana expected the swirling rocks to slow or begin to fall as Sian tired, but they continued without pause. His back against hers seemed overly warm, and she caught an occasional tremble that passed through his entire body, but Sian did not give in to the exhaustion he had to be experiencing.
The rocks spun as if caught in a whirlpool, and eventually the catlike creatures began to back away.
Out of the corner of her eye, Ariana caught sight of an unexpected swarm of scantily dressed and very large men toting spears. Anwyn.
The feline creatures that remained alive scattered in the face of the new and less advantageous numbers. They screeched and bounded across rocks into the mountainside, scurrying away from the path. A few of the Anwyn made as if to follow, chasing the creatures away, but they quickly returned to the path to join the winded but unharmed couple, who gratefully lowered their blades.
Ariana turned her attention to the Anwyn in the lead, a very large man wearing a traditional short kilt. His dark hair was caught in a tight braid, and his striking gold eyes marked him as Anwyn more surely than the clothes or his remarkable size.
He offered a courtly bow, long leg extended and one arm sweeping. “Tryndad Romney of the Dairgol Clan, at your service. Queen Keelia sends her greetings to you and your husband.”
“How does she...” Sian began, and then he paused and shook his head. “Oh yes. Psychic.”
“Very,” Ariana murmured. She extended a hand toward the body of one of the odd creatures. “What is that?” she asked the Anwyn who was obviously this party’s leader.
“I’m not sure.” Tryndad’s brow wrinkled. “We have seen a number of these atrocities over the past few months. The queen says they were once Caradon, but some evil changed them. Now the creatures are lower than even the lowliest Caradon.”
Ariana dropped down to study the rough stone that lay on one motionless chest. The talisman looked innocent enough, but since they each wore one, it probably had some significance. She reached out to touch the stone, but Sian’s hand quickly caught her wrist.
“Don’t touch that,” he commanded.
He drew a square of cloth from his pocket, and used it to cover and protect his hand as he snatched away the talisman. He wrapped the rock securely and dropped it in his pocket. “We’ll study the stone later, but you will not touch it or anything else related to these creatures. It might not be safe.”
Ariana studied the area, searching for a wounded animal. Sian was insistent that she not touch anything connected with these monsters, and in truth she’d like nothing better than to follow that command. But could she snatch back a soul from one of these creatures? Had they ever possessed souls? Maybe they were Ciro’s Own, like the soldiers the sentinels had defeated, but then again, perhaps they were simply a sign that the world was taking a dark turn. She saw a few dead creatures, but the wounded had escaped or been dragged away by their comrades, so there was no opportunity to find out.
“We will go now,” Tryndad said. He turned and headed back the way he’d come, and Ariana and Sian followed. They were quickly surrounded by the men who had come to their rescue. No wonder the Anwyn had not given chase when the creatures fled. They had been sent here not to fight, but to protect.
After a few moments, Sian said, “You’re very brave, Ariana.”
“We must all be brave in the coming months and years. It takes great courage to love with conviction in difficult times.”
Sian wound his arm through hers and pulled her close to his side as they tromped along the rocky trail. His smile warmed her heart. “Yes, it does, love.”
***
Ciro hadn’t slept in many days. Men needed sleep. The Isen Demon did not. He sat in the cabin he was already beginning to hate, and reached out for his Own, those who had not yet come to him. He saw what they saw. He spoke to them and soothed them and guided them.
When he saw what had happened in the mountains too near the Anwyn Queen, he barked a curse that had a curious Diella turning his way. “What’s wrong, my prince?”
“The wizard Chamblyn is lost.”
“Lost?”
“To us, he is lost,” Ciro explained. “His soul no longer dances on the edge. He’s turned, and that turn will not bring him in my direction.”
Diella seemed unconcerned. “How very regrettable. I should’ve killed him when I had the chance.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t be so gloomy.” Diella closed the short space between them and sat on his lap. “There are other wizards in Columbyana and beyond, and I’m sure many of them have greater powers than Sian Chamblyn. You will find the one you seek, in time.”
Diella was trying to comfort him, which he found almost funny. He did not seek comfort from anyone. He did not need comfort.
Insi
de him, what little was left of Ciro shuddered. This bit of human that still remained so precariously needed comfort. Rayne would offer that comfort to him when the time was right. When she understood and embraced all that they could be and do, she would gladly offer him all that he needed.
“I know what will make you feel better,” Diella said brightly.
Ciro almost growled. If she offered him her body again, he would kill her. He’d snap her neck and toss her outside for his Own soldiers to play with. He wouldn’t even drink her blood, such was his distaste for her at the moment.
But Diella did not offer her body. Instead she reached into a deep pocket of the ill-fitting gown she wore and drew out a vial of Panwyr.
Panwyr she must’ve stolen from him.
Ciro did not need or want sleep, the solace of a woman’s body, or the wizard Chamblyn. The Panwyr was another matter entirely. His mouth watered. He hadn’t indulged in his weakness for many days, and looking at the offering, he realized that he had denied himself for too long.
Diella put a healthy sprinkle of the drug on the palm of her hand, and held it beneath his nose. Ciro closed his eyes and sniffed the drug so that it traveled up his nose and flooded his system.
The drug infused the body that had once been Ciro’s, as well as the demon who had become addicted in the depths of Level Thirteen. Each soul it took there had been hopelessly addicted, so it was only reasonable to expect that the demon would share in that craving.
For a human, the advantages of the drug faded after a number of uses, though the addiction remained as it destroyed the body one day, one hour, at a time. For Ciro, for the demon he had become, each dosage took him to a finer, more exciting place. Mentally, all was sharp and colorful. Physically, it seemed that this body he possessed was finally truly alive. The power he sought flowed through his veins, making him stronger. Making him darker.
The faces and thoughts of his Own soldiers and their failures faded, and he thought of Rayne. Thanks to the Panwyr, she seemed real for a moment. He grabbed for her, finding Diella in the pretty village girl’s body instead of the woman he planned to make his empress, the woman who would bear his child.
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