by Anne Bishop
"Landens are demon fodder," Hekatah snapped. "Landens have no magic. Landens have no Craft. Landens are about as useful as Jhin-" She paused. She tugged her hood forward. "Accept Terreillean landens for immigration, too. Promise them privileges and a settlement after service. But bring in the lesser Terreillean Blood as well."
Jorval spread his hands. "And what are we supposed to do with all these immigrants? At the twice-yearly immigration fairs, the other Territories altogether only take a couple dozen people, if that. The courts in Little Terreille are already swelled and there are complaints about the Terreillean aristos always whining about serving in the lower Circles and not having land to rule like they expected. And none of the ones already here have fulfilled their immigration requirement."
"They will have land to rule. They'll establish small, new territories on behalf of the Queens they're serving. That will increase the influence the Queens in Little Terreille have in Kaeleer as well as providing them with an additional source of income. Some of that land is obscenely rich in precious metals and precious gems. In a few years, Little Terreille's Queens will be the strongest force in the Realm, and the other Territories will have to submit to their dominance."
"What land?" Jorval said, failing to hide his exasperation.
"The unclaimed land, of course," Hekatah replied I sharply. She called in a map of Kaeleer, unrolled it, and I
used Craft to keep it flat. One bony finger brushed against large areas of the map.
"That's not unclaimed land," Jorval protested. "Those are closed Territories. The so-called kindred Territories."
"Exactly, Lord Jorval," Hekatah said, tapping the map. "The so-called kindred Territories."
Jorval looked at the map and sat up straighter. "But the kindred are supposed to be Blood. Aren't they?"
"Are they?" Hekatah countered with venomous sweetness.
"What about the human Territories, like Dharo and Nharkhava and Scelt? Their Queens might file a protest on the kindred's behalf."
"They can't. Their lands aren't being interfered with. By Blood Law, Territory Queens can't interfere outside their own borders."
"The High Lord. ."
Hekatah waved a hand dismissively. "He has always lived by a strict code of honor. He'll viciously defend his own Territory, but he won't step one toe outside of it. If anything, he'll stand against those other Territories if they step outside the Law."
Jorval rubbed his lower lip. "So the Queens of Little Terreille would eventually rule all of Kaeleer."
"And those Queens would be consolidated under one wise, experienced individual who would be able to guide them properly."
Jorval preened.
"Not you, idiot," Hekatah hissed. "A male can't rule a Territory."
"The High Lord does!"
The silence went on so long Jorval began to sweat.
"Don't forget who he is or what he is, Lord Jorval. Don't forget about his particular code of honor. You're the wrong gender. If you tried to stand against him, he would tear you apart. / will rule Kaeleer." Her voice sweetened. "You will be my Steward, and as my trusted right hand and most valued adviser, you will be so influential there won't be a woman in the Realm who would dare refuse you."
Heat filled Jorval's groin as he thought of Jaenelle Angelline.
The map rolled up with a snap, startling him.
"I think we've postponed the amenities long enough, don't you?" Hekatah pushed back the cloak's hood.
Jorval let out a faint scream. Leaping up, he knocked over his chair, then tripped over it when he turned to get away from the table.
As Hekatah slowly walked around the table, Jorval scrambled to his feet. He kept backing away until he ended up pressed against the wall.
"Just a sip," Hekatah said as she unbuttoned his shirt. "Just a taste. And maybe next time you'll remember to provide refreshments."
Jorval felt his bowels turn to water.
She'd changed in the last two years. Before, she'd looked
like an attractive woman past her prime. Now she looked
like someone had squeezed all the juice out of her flesh.
And the liberally applied perfume didn't mask the smell of decay.
"There's one other very important reason why I'm going to rule Kaeleer," Hekatah murmured as her lips brushed his throat. "Something you shouldn't forget."
"Yes, P-Priestess?" Jorval clenched his hands.
"With me ruling, the Realm of Terreille will support our efforts."
"It will?" Jorval said faintly, trying to take shallow breaths.
"I guarantee it," Hekatah replied just before her teeth sank into his throat.
2 / Kaeleer
The new two-wheeled buggy rolled smartly down the middle of the wide dirt road that ran northeast out of the village of Maghre.
Saetan tried – again – to tell Daffodil that he should keep the buggy on the right-hand side of the road. And Daffodil replied – again – that if he did that, Yaslana and Sundance: wouldn't be able to trot alongside. He would move over if another wagon came down the road. He knew how to pull a buggy. The High Lord worried too much.
Sitting beside him, Jaenelle glanced at his clenched hands and smiled with sympathetic amusement. "Being the passenger when you're used to having control isn't an easy adjustment to make. Khary thinks kindred-drawn conveyances should have a set of reins attached to the front of the buggy to give the passenger something to hold on to, just to feel more secure."
"Sedatives would be more helpful," Saetan growled. He forced his hands open and pressed them firmly on his thighs, ignoring Lucivar's low chuckle and trying hard not to resent the reins attached to the headstall Sundancer wore.
Much to the humans' chagrin, the kindred had insisted that reins be kept as part of the riding equipment because humans needed something to hold on to when kindred ran and jumped. Fortunately, after the initial shock three years ago when the Scelt people had learned how many Blood races inhabited their island, the humans there had enthusiastically embraced their kindred Brothers and Sisters.
"Aren't we stopping at Morghann and Khary's house?" Jaenelle asked, clapping a hand on top of her head to keep the wide-brimmed straw hat from blowing away.
"They wanted to show us something and said they'd meet us," Lucivar replied. "Sundancer and I will go on ahead and see if they're waiting." He and the Warlord Prince stallion took off cross-country.
Daffodil made a wistful sound but kept trotting down the road. A few minutes later, he turned off the main road and trotted smartly down a long, tree-lined drive.
Jaenelle's eyes lit up. "We're going to see Duana's country house? Oh, it's such a lovely place. Khary mentioned that someone had taken a lease on it and was fixing it up a bit."
Saetan breathed a sigh of relief. Trust Khary to know just how much to say to pique her interest and still not give it away.
It had taken her six months to heal after she went into the Twisted Kingdom to save Daemon two years ago. She
had remained at the Keep for the first two months, too ill to be moved. After he and Lucivar brought her back to the Hall, it had taken her another four months to get her" physical strength back. During that time, her friends had once again taken up residence at the Hall, resigning from the courts they were serving in so that they could be with her. She had welcomed the coven's presence but had shied away from the boys seeing her – the first show of feminine vanity she had ever displayed.
Bewildered by her refusal to see them, they had settled in to care from a distance and had channeled their energy into looking after the coven. During that time, under his watchful but blind eye, some friendships had bloomed into love: Morghann and Khardeen, Gabrielle and Chaosti, Grezande and Elan, Kalush and Aaron. He'd watched the girls and had wondered if Jaenelle's eyes would ever shine like that for a man. Even if that man was Daemon Sadi.
When Daemon and Surreal didn't show up at the Terreille Keep, he had tried to locate them. After a few weeks, he stopped because ther
e were indications that he wasn't the only one looking for them, and he had decided that failure was preferable to leading an enemy to a vulnerable man. Besides, Surreal was Titian's daughter. Wherever she had chosen to go to ground, she had hidden her tracks well.
And there was another reason he didn't want to stir things up. Hekatah had never returned to the Dark Realm. He suspected she was well hidden in Hayll. As long as she stayed there, she and Dorothea could rot together, but she would also latch on to any sign of his renewed interest in Terreille and hunt down the cause.
"Lucivar and Sundancer made better time than we did," Jaenelle noted as they pulled up in front of the well-proportioned sandstone manor house.
Daffodil snorted.
"No," Saetan said sternly as he helped Jaenelle out of the buggy. "Buggies do not go over fences."
"Especially when the human riding in it doesn't know he's responsible for getting his half over," Jaenelle murmured. She shook out the folds of her sapphire skirt and
straightened the matching jacket, too busy to look him in the eye.
Which was just as well.
Jaenelle looked up at the manor house and sighed. "I hope the new tenants will give this place the love it deserves. Oh, I know Duana's busy and prefers living in her country house near Tuathal, but this land needs to be sung awake. The gardens here could be so lovely."
Acknowledging Lucivar's pleased smile, Saetan pulled a flat, rectangular box out of his pocket and handed it to Jaenelle. "Happy birthday, witch-child. From the whole family."
Jaenelle accepted the box but didn't open it. "If it's from the whole family, shouldn't I wait until we're back home to open it?"
Saetan shook his head. "We agreed you should open that here."
Jaenelle opened the box and frowned at the large brass key.
Letting out an exasperated growl, Lucivar turned her around until she was facing the front of the house. "It fits the front door."
Jaenelle's eyes widened. "Mine?" She looked at the front door, then at the key, then back to the front door. "Mine?"
"Well, the family purchased a ten-year lease on the house and land," Saetan replied, smiling. "Duaria said that, short of tearing the house down, you could do whatever you wanted with the place."
Jaenelle gave both of them a choke-hold hug and raced to the door. It flew open before she reached it.
"surprise!"
Smiling at her stunned expression, Saetan pushed her into the house at the same time Khary and Morghann pulled her forward into the crowd.
His throat tightened as he watched Jaenelle being passed from friend to friend for a birthday hug. Astar and Sceron, from Centauran. Zylona and Jonah, from Pandar. Grezande and Elan, from Tigrelan. Little Katrine, from Philarf. Gabrielle and Chaosti, from Dea al Mon. Karla and Morton, from Glacia. Morghann and Khary, from Scelt. Sabrina
and Aaron, from Dharo. Kalush, from Nharkhava. Ladvarian and Kaelas. Had the Shadow Realm ever seen a gathering such as this?
The years when the coven and the male circle had gathered at the Hall had passed so swiftly, and the youngsters were no longer children to be cared for, but adults to be met on equal ground. All the boys had made the Offering to the Darkness, and all of them wore dark Jewels. If the strong friendship between Khary, Aaron, and Chaosti survived the demands of young adulthood and serving in different courts, they would be a formidable, influential triangle of strength in the coming years. And the girls were almost ready to make the Offering. When they did… ah, the power!
And then there was Jaenelle. What would become of the lovely, gifted daughter of his soul when she made the Offering?
He tried to shake off his mood before she felt it. But today was a bittersweet day for him, which was why the family had celebrated her birthday – together, privately – a couple of days ago.
A roll of thunder silenced the chatter.
"There now," Karla said with a wicked smile. "Let Uncle Saetan give Jaenelle the grand tour while we finish setting out the food. This might be the only chance we'll get to play in the kitchen."
The girls scampered off to the back of the house.
"I think we'd better help them," Khary said, leading the young men, who hustled off to save the house and edibles.
Lucivar promised to be back, muttering something about unhitching Daffodil before the horse tried to do it himself.
"Duana said that any furniture you don't want to use can be tucked in the attics," Saetan said after he and Jaenelle explored downstairs.
Jaenelle nodded absently as they headed upstairs. "I've seen some grand pieces that would be perfect for this place. There was a-" Open-mouthed, she stood in the bedroom doorway and stared at the canopied bed, dresser, tables, and chests.
"The horde downstairs bought this for you. I gather you
had admired something similar often enough that they figured you would like it."
Jaenelle stepped into the room and ran her hand over the dresser's silky maple wood. "It's wonderful. All of it's wonderful. But, why?"
Saetan swallowed hard. "You're twenty years old today."
Jaenelle raised her right hand and fluffed her hair. "I know that."
"My legal guardianship ends today."
They stared at each other for a long moment.
"What does that mean?" she asked quietly.
"Exactly that. My legal guardianship ends today." He saw her relax as she assimilated the distinction. "You're a young woman now, witch-child, and should have a place of your own. You've always loved Scelt. We thought it would be helpful to have a home base on this side of the Realm as well as the other." When she still didn't say anything, his heart started pounding. "The Hall will always be your home. We'll always be your family – as long as you want us."
"As long as I want you." Her eyes changed.
It took everything he had in him not to sink to his knees and beg Witch to forgive him.
Jaenelle turned away from him, hugging herself as if she were cold. "I said some cruel things that day."
Saetan took a deep breath. "I did use him. He was my instrument. And even knowing what I know, if I had the choice to make again, I would do it again. A Warlord Prince is expendable. A good Queen is not. And, in truth, if we had done nothing and you hadn't survived, I don't think Daemon would have either. I know I wouldn't have."
Jaenelle opened her arms.
He stepped into them and held her tight. "I don't think you've ever realized how strong, how necessary the bond is between Warlord Princes and Queens. We need you to stay whole. That's why we serve. That's why all Blood males serve."
"But it's always seemed so unfair that a Queen can lay claim to a man and control every aspect of his life if she chooses to without him having any say in the matter."
Saetan laughed. "Who says a man has no choice? Haven't you ever noticed how many men who are invited to serve in a court decline the privilege? No, perhaps you haven't. You've had too many other things occupying your time, and that sort of thing is done very quietly." He paused and shook his head, smiling. "Let me tell you an open secret, my darling little witch. You don't choose us. We choose you."
Jaenelle thought about this and growled, "Lucivar's never going to give that damn Ring back, is he?"
Saetan chuckled softly. "You could try to get it back, but I don't think you'd win." He rubbed his cheek against her hair. "I think he'll serve you for the rest of his life, regardless of whether or not he's actually with you."
"Like you and Uncle Andulvar, with Cassandra."
He closed his eyes. "No, not like me and Andulvar."
She pulled back far enough to study his face. "I see. A bond as strong as family."
"Stronger."
Jaenelle hugged him and sighed. "Maybe we should find Lucivar a wife. That way he would have someone else to pester besides me."
Saetan choked. "How unkind of you to dump Lucivar on some unsuspecting Sister."
"But it would keep him busy."
"Consider for a moment
the possible consequence of that busyness."
She did. "A houseful of little Lucivars," she said faintly.
They both groaned.
"All right," Jaenelle grumbled. "I'll think of something else."
"You two get lost up here?"
They jumped. Lucivar smiled at them from the doorway.
"Papa was just explaining that I'm stuck with you forever."
"And it only took you three years to figure that out." Lucivar's arrogant smile widened. "You don't deserve the warning, but while you've been up here busily, but futilely, rearranging my life, Ladvarian's been downstairs busily rearranging yours. The exact quote was 'We can raise and train the puppies here.' "
"Who's we?" Jaenelle squeaked. "What puppies? Whose puppies?"
Lucivar stepped aside as Jaenelle flew out of the room, muttering.
Saetan found the doorway blocked by a strong, well-muscled arm.
"You wouldn't have helped her do something that silly, would you?" Lucivar asked.
Saetan leaned against the doorway and shook his head. "If the right woman comes into your life, you won't let her go. I'm the last man who would tell you to compromise. Marry someone you can love and accept as she is, Lucivar. Marry someone who will love and accept you. Don't settle for less."
Lucivar lowered his arm. "Do you think the right man will come into Cat's life?"
"He'll come. If the Darkness is kind, he'll come."
3 / The Twisted Kingdom
He stood at the edge of the resting place for a long time, studying the details, absorbing the message and the warning. Unlike the other resting places she'd provided for him, this one disturbed him.
It was an altar, a slab of black stone laid over two others. At its center was a crystal chalice that once had been shattered. Even from where he stood, his eyes could trace every fracture line, could see where the pieces had been carefully fitted back together. There were sharp-edged chips around the rim where small pieces had been lost, chips that could cut a man badly. Inside the chalice, lightning and black mist performed a slow, swirling dance. Fitted around the chalice's stem was a gold ring with a faceted ruby. A man's ring.
