Prince of Fire

by Linda Winstead Jones

  Sophie Fyne Varden was a lover of peace. She frowned as she began to understand the import of the situation. “If it’s revealed that Sebestyen had sons who lived, there will be war. Those who always thought that Sebestyen was the rightful emperor will fight for his sons’ rights. I know what such a war is like, Ariana.”

  “Mum, we’re already at war. War is here.”

  Her mother sighed. “There must be another way.”

  “There is,” Ariana said, knowing that Sian would prefer his heritage to be kept a secret, but also realizing that she had no choice if she wanted her mother’s assistance. “Arik fathered a child thirty-four years ago. An illegitimate child.”

  Her mother sighed in obvious relief. “Then when Arik passes, this man—”

  “This man doesn’t want the throne,” Ariana said sharply. “He doesn’t want it, nor does he want his mother’s name sullied by the knowledge that she was the emperor’s lover without marriage.” Her lips thinned. “I know that sort of thing isn’t important in all circles, but it is important to … to this man.”

  Blue eyes narrowed. “You know him, don’t you? Who is this child of Arik’s who wishes to deny his true parentage?”

  A shout went up, and the sounds of a scuffle alarmed Ariana so that she spun about to see her father and the man she called husband grappling on the ground. While she’d been speaking with her mother, the two men had edged away. Apparently they’d been having their own discussion. Using the abilities Sian had taught her, Ariana sent a stream of energy through the air and plucked away the knife her father drew so smoothly. The weapon skittered away, spinning in the dirt.

  “The emperor’s son is my … my husband, Mum.” Sian was her husband in almost all ways, but like him, her father put a lot of weight on the legalities. “The man Poppy is apparently trying to kill.”

  *

  Joryn awoke with a start after a very short period of sleep. His hands were already caught tightly in those of a mutated Caradon, and in seconds they were securely bound behind his back. Three of the monsters gave his capture their full attention, while one made short work of trussing a very confused Druson.

  He should not have stopped, not even for a few minutes. But he’d been on the verge of losing his ability to think clearly, and Druson had been utterly exhausted in mind and body. A few hours of rest had seemed not only permissible, but necessary.

  Joryn quickly realized that he didn’t have a chance. The creatures were stronger than he, and they’d taken him by surprise. If he’d had the opportunity to call upon his gift of fire, he would’ve been able to fight back; if he’d had a chance to wield his dagger, he might’ve at least put up a decent fight, but they had known exactly how to disable him.

  How had they found him? The cave he’d chosen for a , short period of rest was small and well concealed. It would not have been an easy place to find.

  Perhaps they’d had some sort of magical help from the man who’d cursed and directed them. Had the wizard known all along where he and Keelia were? Had they been walking into a trap from the beginning?

  The creatures dragged a tightly bound Joryn out of the cave and into the almost-dawn of his last day on earth. Another waited for their exit, a smug creature Joryn recognized as the mutant who could speak. One arm was sloppily immobilized, as if the monster had been wounded and then hastily tended.

  Joryn’s ankles and hands were trussed so tightly he could barely move. He was dragged along die ground, and one of the monsters kicked him repeatedly with a large, somewhat hairy foot. After a while, the creature who had been waiting for them to exit the cave spoke, his words muddy as before.

  “I don car if you hurt hm, but don kill hm. It is not hsss time.”

  The monster above Joryn grumbled and growled, and then delivered one last kick.

  Joryn twisted his head to see what was happening to Druson. The man who was now the Grandfather, a spiritual leader who should be protected by all Caradon, was dragged unceremoniously from the cave by the single creature who had bound him. He screamed and then mumbled in confusion. Most of his words were unintelligible, but now and then Joryn caught a word or two that made some sense to anyone who might be listening.

  The wizard could not know what his beasts had found. Druson possessed powers and knowledge even he did not yet realize, and for him to fall into the hands of someone who would use that knowledge for evil was unthinkable.

  “Say nothing,” Joryn instructed, shouting to be heard above the creatures’ delighted growls and Druson’s latest scream of protest. “Say nothing!”

  Druson’s eyes caught Joryn’s, and in spite of his obviously fragile mental state, he nodded in agreement. Perhaps his friend was not entirely insane, after all.

  “The Red Keen wus right,” the creature in charge said. “She tuld uz where tu fine yu, so clear dat a chile could’ve foun’ yu an’ yur frien’.” His furry nose wrinkled. “She wus wrong ‘bout yur frien’s age, but I spose e’en a great seer iz ‘lowed a mistake now and den.”

  He must be lying. Keelia would not have betrayed him. Not unless … Not unless they’d tortured her. Hurt her. They’d forced her to betray him somehow.

  The creature above kicked once more, this time with Joryn’s head as his target. Just before darkness descended, one thought rang in Joryn’s brain.

  What had they done to Keelia?

  *

  14

  At last all was relatively peaceable. Ariana had explained to her parents that she and Sian were married in her heart and mind, and when the time was right, they’d also marry legally. Her mother understood. Her father, like Sian, seemed to place a lot of importance on legalities.

  She should’ve known that the first thing her father would ask Sian was if he’d done right by his daughter. The chokers had been a dead giveaway that something was going on. Now she’d have both her father and Sian pushing her to take the next step.

  It was difficult to explain to anyone that she didn’t want to say her vows in the midst of war, but wished to wait until she was surrounded by harmony and untarnished love. Right now, Ciro and his Own tarnished everything in Columbyana. The more Ariana learned to manipulate energy with her magic, the more she appreciated the importance of energy. It was present in all things at all times, and it was always flavored in some way. Dark, light, and everything in between.

  She wanted to marry Sian, but not with this flavor to the world.

  Merin’s army was much larger and well armed than it had been just two months earlier. Tonight was their assigned meeting time, and although it was early in the day, the soldiers had begun to arrive. Alone, in small groups, in organized militias, they came. Some were on foot; others rode fine horses. All were solemn and prepared to fight against an evil they had never imagined before this moment. With each coming, she felt the hope in her heart grow. All was not entirely lost as it had once seemed to be.

  Merin approached her as he had often during die morning. Without greeting or preamble, he spoke. “I have news from a recent arrival, sister. Ciro’s army has been camped four days’ hard ride from here, apparently training, after being defeated in a small village on their way to Arthes.”

  Hope. “So, he’s not made his way to his father yet.”

  “No, thank the heavens. If the emperor did not succumb to his illness since our departure from the palace, then he lives and the capital city remains ours.”

  But for how long? If Ciro took the palace, it would be very difficult to get him and his men out. Those who did not understand what he had become might even support his position there as Arik’s only son. Well, only legitimate and known son.

  Sian did not want to be emperor. He did not even want others to know of his true parentage. But if Sebestyen’s sons were not found, what choice did he have?

  There were still many hours of the day remaining before the sun set and the full moon rose. In that time, more soldiers would come. More trained and untrained fighters ready for battle would join the side of
right.

  Did Ciro’s army grow as well? Ariana did not possess her cousin’s psychic powers, but she suspected that was the case.

  *

  “Come, love, and see what we have found.”

  Keelia allowed Maccus to take her arm and lead her to a small, pleasantly chilly chamber in the cave home she now thought of as her own. Two men were imprisoned there. A man with dark hair liberally shot with gray, a man she did not know, was shackled. Heavy chains that were anchored in the wall were attached to leg irons, but his hands were free.

  The other prisoner was familiar to her. Joryn was more staunchly restrained than his companion, with his hands and his feet immobilized. His face and arms were cut, and blood stained his brown trousers. He looked at her so hard, she felt that odd twitch once again. Looking at him made her dizzy, so she closed her eyes.

  “Does he frighten you?” Maccus asked, concern in his voice.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “In order for us to do what must be done, you must look at him, love. You must not let him make you afraid.”

  Joryn spoke, his words soft. “Keelia, what have they done to you?”

  She did not open her eyes, but those words touched her inside in a place that was sleeping. Sleeping or dead? She could not be sure, but there was a numbness inside her that tingled at Joryn’s voice. She had once thought herself in love with him.

  “Open your eyes,” Maccus ordered, and Keelia obeyed. It was as if she had no choice. “Look at the man we have captured.”

  Her eyes scanned him from head to toe. Yes, she had loved him once, but no more. He’d refused her when she’d needed him. He’d told her he could never love her. Maccus loved her.

  “Keelia ” Joryn whispered, and her heart twitched.

  “Speak again, and I will have your mouth stuffed with rocks and bound with the skin of your useless little friend.” Maccus nodded at the other prisoner, the one Keelia did not know.

  Joryn’s lips thinned and his mouth clamped shut. He wanted to speak, but would not for fear that Maccus would do as he threatened. The prisoner remained silent, but a distant voice whispered in her head. She had to strain to hear the words.

  Snap out of it, Keelia.

  Joryn’s voice was almost real, but his mouth didn’t move, and Maccus obviously heard nothing. In fact, the wizard continued to speak, taunting his prisoner.

  Keelia answered silently. Snap out of what? I am well. I am more well than I have ever been. Something deep within her recognized that as a lie.

  You’re enchanted. You’re not yourself I can see it in your eyes.

  My eyes are fine.

  Your eyes are dull and distant, Joryn insisted, still inside her head. They are not the eyes I came to love.

  Love?

  Yes, love. There was a bitter tone to those words, even in thought. He did not want to love her, or anyone else.

  Why can I hear you inside my head?

  For a moment there was no answer, and then a terse, Because I am your mate, Keelia. Because we are linked in all ways.

  Maccus is my mate. Again, a warning tingle suffused her body. Tonight we will make a child beneath the full moon.

  Joryn yanked at his chains, but they did not come loose. Impossible. You have the power to remain human beneath the moon, but this mad wizard does not. He will be in mountain cat form. Besides, your fertile time has passed.

  He said it does not matter. He will be elevated, and I will conceive.

  Elevated? How?

  I do not know.

  Keelia, I…

  The creature Keelia disliked so much entered the small room, and she was distracted. The voice in her head ended abruptly.

  Maccus smiled at his servant. “I believe it is time. The moon will rise in a few hours.”

  Eneo bowed curtly, and when Maccus offered his arm, the mutant took it. When Maccus nodded once, the creature bent his head and bit hard into his master’s arm. The wizard flinched, but he did not cry out. He closed his eyes and smiled as Eneo drew away.

  “I can feel the poison coursing through my blood.”

  Keelia felt frozen. Numb, twitchy, and frozen.

  Elevated, This man who said he loved her would turn into a monster beneath the full moon, and then they would be wed and mated.

  The voice in her head returned, loud and insistent. Run, Keelia. Run!

  But she did not run. Her feet were frozen, as was her heart. She closed off the voice that tried to warn her, and retreated into the numbness where she felt safe and protected. She fiddled with the ring Maccus had given her, and when he leaned down to kiss her mouth, she did not protest.

  But for a moment, just a moment, she smelled and tasted the prisoner Joryn, not the wizard who had promised to wed her when the moon rose.

  *

  In all Joryn’s imaginings, he had never considered that the end would come so very badly. He was prepared for death. He had always been prepared for death. But to be imprisoned this way, helpless while Keelia was enchanted by the wizard and Druson was teetering on the edge of madness, was more horrible than a battle to the death.

  He and Druson were alone in a prison not all that different from the one he’d prepared for Keelia, what seemed like a lifetime ago. He had not chained her, however. He had never mistreated her.

  Shortiy after the mutant creature had bitten Maccus, the wizard had led a horribly compliant Keelia from the chamber. In all the time Joryn had known her, she had never been compliant. In the early days he had thought that trait to be a failing on her part, but now he longed to see her fire and determination and stubbornness come to life.

  Druson had been silent, as ordered, but now that they were alone, he spoke, his words for Joryn’s ears alone. “We don’t have much time,” he whispered urgently.

  “I know,” Joryn snapped. “What do you suggest?”

  “We must escape.”

  Joryn sighed. His friend and only ally had become entirely simpleminded. “How?” If Druson possessed the Grandmother’s gifts, men perhaps he could free them somehow. It was clear, however, that the now magically advanced Druson had no idea what to do with his powers.

  “We must save the Queen.”

  Joryn looked over at his friend, the Grandfather who sat so still and useless on the cave floor, and tried to still his mind. Panic would not help. What he needed was reason from Druson. What he needed was help. Maybe if he led the conversation, some kernel of usable knowledge would be revealed.

  “You said she was our Queen, too. How is that possible?”

  Druson looked up. His eyes still startled Joryn. They were ancient, as the Grandmother’s had been, and yet his face remained young. Young, and terrified. “Long ago, we were one. Caradon and Anwyn were one, and we shared these mountains as a united people.”

  “That’s not—”

  “Possible?” Druson had apparentiy picked the word from Joryn’s head. “As we are now, no, but we were not then entirely as we are now. We were powerful shape-shifters who embraced nature and unity and peace. Most could transform into two or three animals. A few had a limitless power of transformation. Some even had the power of flight, and large birds flew over these mountains, sparing high.”

  A fanciful tale or a true telling of long ago? Joryn couldn’t be sure. “What happened?”

  “War,” Joryn whispered. “Two brothers of high station both loved the same woman. The brothers fought over her, and they divided the people. Where there was once harmony, there came bloodshed. The people were divided, and the peace that had sheltered us vanished. No, it didn’t vanish; it was eaten away, one tiny bit at a time, until there was none left.

  “There was a very powerful witch in these mountains who lost all her sons in the senseless battle, and when she buried the youngest, she cursed us all. She cursed us to be forever separated and weakened and … and incomplete, but forever is not really forever, and we are coming back to one again ” Druson lifted his hands to Joryn. “But all is not decided. Who wi
ll our people be in the years to come? Who will rule our hearts and minds and souls? The decision comes down to one powerful woman and two men.”

  “Keelia,” Joryn whispered.

  Druson shook his head, and then said, “Yes. You should’ve given her a child when she asked,” he chastised. “The Queen knew, deep inside her soul, that your child growing inside her would be the first step in healing our people and the Mountains of the Norm and the very world. Her child will fly again, as we once did, but if it’s his child, too, then all is ruined.”

  “Ruined?”

  “Ruined to the very core. He says chaos,” Druson whispered, “but I say destruction. I see nothing where Caradon and Anwyn once lived. I see death and disease where once there was life and beauty.” Tears ran down his face. “I see too much, Joryn. Too much, too much, too…”

  “Calm down,” Joryn said, his voice surprisingly composed, considering the situation. “These powers of yours are very new and untested. How sure are you that all this you see is truth?”

  Druson laughed madly. “I wish I thought I might be wrong, but I’m not I’m not wrong, Joryn. We must save our Queen.”

  The efforts of seeing so much had apparently exhausted Druson. His eyes rolled back in his head and he fainted, falling limply and landing hard on the stone floor, leaving Joryn to contemplate how he might escape this seemingly inescapable situation.

  *

  Ciro watched his soldiers with a hint of pride. With training, they had improved greatly. The next villagers who were foolish enough to fight back would regret their decision and wish for a quick death.

  While his legion ate, Ciro sat and watched them as if they were his beloved children, and dreamed-It was odd that the Isen Demon inside him allowed him to dream, but it was decidedly so. He dreamed of power and blood, and he dreamed of Rayne.

  The real, true Rayne, not the illusion Diella sometimes created. Ciro thought of Rayne as she had been when he’d last seen her, chained in the basement of her father’s home. He tried to reach out to her with his mind and spirit, as he could reach out to his Own, but his beloved’s pure soul kept her from him. He could not touch her mind, not yet. The time would come.