Darrian stood behind the fenris'enas encircling Delilah. The elven prince gripped killing knives in each hand. He darted forward, slashed and kicked as he attacked her assailants.
"Get up," he yelled to Delilah. The girl stumbled to her feet. Darrian lunged forward again, drove both blades into the nearest fenris'ena. The wolf fell, and the prince pushed Delilah through the opening. Ben jumped to pull her behind him.
Delilah leaned around him to look at Darrian. "No," she screamed.
"Run," Darrian cried. "We will hold them off."
"I'm not leaving," Delilah cried, struggling against her father's hold.
Ben saw Margeaux's arrows take out another three of the wolves.
"Run," she echoed her nephew's words. "We will be right behind you. Get to the rocks."
With a harsh grunt, Ben clipped Delilah's chin with his fist, and she fell into his arms. Tossing her over his shoulder, Ben ran. As he climbed the path, he risked a glance back. Margeaux stood just below him, firing arrow after arrow. Snarls and yelps of the dying wolves filled the air.
In a small fissure of the mountain, he laid Delilah down. Her eyes opened and she screamed and tried to rise.
"Hush, Baby, hush," he said, drawing her close for a moment.
"Darrian. We have to go back."
"Be still," Ben said. "They are coming behind us."
She tried to scramble to her feet.
"No, we wait here." Ben's voice was firm as he held her still.
"Let go of me."
He gave her a shake. "We have to wait here. We will only make things worse. Do you understand me?"
Tears streaked her pale cheeks, but she nodded.
"Let me take a look at your arm."
Her leather jacket sleeve was ripped, but her arm looked more bruised than ripped.
"Daddy, you're bleeding."
Ben looked down at his arm. The teeth marks were easy to see. Her ripped a piece of cloth from his tunic and wrapped it around the bite. "The bleeding has stopped. I will get it seen to once we are through the rift." He walked to the path and looked down. Margeaux stood below. Ben's heart stuttered when he saw only three arrows remained in her quiver and that nine fenris'ena milled just beyond her.
Suddenly the wolves lifted their heads, howled, and melted into the brush.
Margeaux climbed toward them. Ben looked beyond, but Darrian did not appear. He felt a bolt of ice travel his spine. "Dear God, no," he whispered.
His gaze sought Margeaux's face. Her lips were thin and drawn tight, her face grief-stricken. Tears streaked her cheeks and ran unheeded from her eyes. He moved to press by her.
"Do not," she choked out.
Ben's shoulders slumped. Behind him he heard movement and turned. Delilah staggered toward them.
"Darrian?" she said.
Margeaux shook her head.
"No," Delilah screamed, and moved to push by them.
Margeaux grabbed her arm. "You do not want to see him as such."
Delilah fell to her knees. Sobs shook her body. "He saved me. He saved me."
Margeaux knelt beside her. "Yes, he did. My nephew loved you." She pulled the girl into her arms and held her as she cried.
The elven healer pulled away from Delilah and stood. "We have to keep moving," she said, pulling the girl to her feet.
Delilah jerked away. "I have to see him, to say good -bye."
"No," Margeaux said. "His soul is gone. What remains is a shell." She turned to Ben. "Get your daughter and yourself to the rift."
"And you?" Ben asked.
"I will meet you there. They appear to be gone. Dirkk must have called them, but I must make sure."
Ben did not move. Margeaux looked hard at him. Her eyes told him he must put his daughter first.
"You will be there before I cross through," Ben said, and it was not a question, but an order.
"I will be there. I promise." They exchanged another long look, then Ben turned to Delilah. "I'm taking you home."
Delilah stared a long moment beyond him and then nodded. "Yes, home." He took her by the hand and guided her to the upward path. He'd only climbed a few yards before he turned and looked back. Margeaux was collecting her arrows from the bodies of the fenris'ena. She must have felt his look, because she straightened and gazed up at him. He felt her love surround him and he pulled it close like a quilt. I'm coming back, he silently promised. Remember always. He turned and continued up the path.
*****
Margeaux watched until she was sure Ben would not return, and then made her way back down the path. She paused at each dead fenris'ena and pulled her arrows from the body. At the edge of the clearing she paused, took a deep breath and then moved toward Darrian's sprawled form. The wolves had not mauled his body. He could have been just asleep if not for the twisted position of his neck and head. His eyes stared upward. What had he seen as his soul departed? She knelt beside her nephew and touched his cold cheek. Closing her eyes, she lifted her hands skyward, palms up. "May you welcome him with warmth and love," she prayed. She began to sing softly a song of good-bye, her body swaying with the melody.
Finishing the last verse, Margeaux paused and listened as her words faded away. She stripped the clothing from Darrian's body and put them in her saddlebags, then whistled shrilly and waited. In moments, the three horses returned. Margeaux swung the bags across her mare's back. She looked one last time at her nephew and then mounted.
"You would not understand, Ben, but it is our way," she whispered. "We come from the Earth Mother and when dead we are left to return to her."
She turned the mare toward the upward path, the other two horses trailing behind as she climbed after Ben and Delilah.
*****
"Sit," Ben said, settling down beside his daughter on the crimson grass. He turned and looked to where he knew the rift waited. He could feel its power from here.
Delilah stared straight ahead, unseeing. Her tears had ceased, but a lost look of hopelessness shadowed her face. Up until the fenris'ena attack, he'd thought of sending her into the rift alone, but now she'd lost too much. To see her son die would be the end of her. He would return through the rift with her. It only remained to say good-bye to Margeaux.
He stood and faced the beginning of the trail. Delilah sighed and he looked down at her. The look on her face was more than he could bear. He sat down next to her and put his arm across her shoulders.
She tilted her head and looked into his face, her eyes filled with tears. "I need my baby."
Ben nodded and pulled her closer against his side. "We will go soon." Over her head, he watched the trail.
He heard the horses before he saw Margeaux. Their gazes locked as she came into view. Oh, my beautiful lady. I will miss you so. Seven years seems a lifetime away. She seemed to feel his thoughts and nodded her head in understanding.
"Come on, Delilah," he said pulling away from her.
She shook her head. "No, you go. I'll wait here."
Nodding his thanks, he turned from his daughter and walked to Margeaux. She dismounted as he neared. He reached to take her hands and drew them to rest against his heart. "A part of this stays here with you."
"As a part of mine travels with you." They gazed into each other's eyes, speaking with their souls and then Margeaux pulled away. Ben was glad she did, because he was not sure he could have.
"Go," she whispered. "I will be waiting here for you."
Ben turned and walked back to Delilah. She lifted a hand in farewell and Margeaux returned the salute as they walked away. Placing his arm across Delilah's shoulders, Ben led her to the rift. With the word of passing fixed in his mind, they stepped inside.
*****
Blinking back tears, Margeaux mounted and turned the mare toward Vilsathor. She already felt as if a part of her was missing. She only hoped Ben would come to her in her dreams, as he had before he'd entered Daradawn seven years ago.
She urged the mare forward, but something nagged at her. Why had Di
rkk called the wolves? Dread filled her. Margeaux closed her eyes. Hafgan. The wind whispered the name to her. She must go to Cinnard. With a last look back, she reined her mare south.
Chapter Eighteen
Patrick Bannion leaned from the concealing shadows of the stable and looked both ways. The moat lay just beyond. He took a step forward.
"Patrick? Where are you going?"
He turned. Daniel came from inside the stable, Maggie trotting at his side.
"What are you doing up, Whelp?" Patrick said.
"Couldn't sleep. I came down to talk to Jax for awhile."
"Your mom and dad know where you are?"
Daniel grinned half-heartedly before replying. "No. They think I'm in bed."
Patrick put his arm around the boy's shoulder. "You still want to learn magic?"
"Sure do. Do you think I'm ready? I don't have the flame mark though."
"For this magic you don't need the stupid blue flame. You only need to be proven worthy by the master," Patrick said. "I've told him about you. That's where I'm going now. Do you want to come?"
"Now? But it's dark."
Patrick stepped away from Daniel and scowled. "If a little dark bothers you, then you're not ready." He turned away. "Go back to bed."
Daniel reached out and grabbed Patrick's arm. "No, I'm ready. Really I am."
"Then follow me." Patrick walked toward the moat. When the boy did not follow, he stopped and looked back. "Well?"
"Healer Kerry is beyond the city walls?"
"Not the healer, but our true master. And yes, he lives in a cottage just beyond the field yonder."
"But the wolves—"
"They would not dare attack me, and I am under his protective spell."
Daniel started toward him and Maggie whined and darted in front of him. "No, Maggie, you stay here."
The basset hound grabbed Daniel's pants leg in her teeth as he turned to walk away. He pushed the dog away.
"Let go."
Maggie whined.
"Shut her up," Patrick said. "You want everyone to hear us?"
Daniel tugged on his pants leg, but Maggie wouldn't release him. "She wants to come."
Anger twisted Patrick's face, but then he smiled. "Okay, bring her."
"You hear, Mags? You can come. Now let go." He pulled his trousers from the basset hound's mouth and started after Patrick.
Their steps rang hollowly as they stepped onto the moat bridge.
In the middle of the bridge Patrick halted.
"Why'd we stop? I hate this bridge. Have you seen the thing in the moat?" Despite a valiant effort, the younger boy's voice quivered as he spoke. Patrick said nothing, just leapt at Maggie and kicked her over the side of the bridge. The basset hound yelped as she disappeared from sight.
"What are you doing?" Daniel screamed, running to the side of the bridge. "Maggie. Maggie."
Patrick grabbed Daniel's arm and twisted it behind the boy's back. "Shut up, you little brat, unless you want to join the stupid dog."
"Let go. You're hurting me." Daniel tried to pull away, but Patrick shoved the boy's arm higher. Daniel struggled, staring down into the moat. Maggie lay on her side at its edge, unmoving. "She's hurt."
Patrick laughed. "She won't be feeling anything soon. Look."
By the wan moonlight, they saw ripples form down the length of the moat.
"No, we gotta get her out," Daniel said, squirming in the older boy's grip.
Patrick pulled Daniel back against him and circled the boy's throat with his arm. "I'll choke you if you don't shut up." He pressed his forearm hard against Daniel's throat.
Daniel reached up and clawed at Patrick's arm with his free hand. Patrick swore, forcing his arm tighter against the boy's windpipe.
"You are going to kill him," a voice said from the darkness.
Patrick whirled to face the sound, dragging Daniel with him.
Thomas stepped from the shadows. "Makes no difference to me, but Dirkk might not like it, being his queen is the brat's mother and all."
Patrick felt Daniel sag against him and released his hold on the boy's throat. Daniel fell to his knees, coughing and rubbing at his neck.
Thomas stared down at the boy. "What are you going to do with him?"
"I'm taking him to my father," Patrick said.
"Your father?" Thomas laughed. He reached down, grabbed Daniel by the collar and jerked him to his feet. "You heard him, boy. We're taking you to Dirkk." He unwrapped the sash around his waist and tied it around Daniel's neck. "You try to run and I'll finish the job Patrick started. You hear me? Just do what we say and we'll give you back to your mommy and new daddy real soon."
Pale and wide-eyed, Daniel nodded.
"I'll go first," Thomas said, motioning to Patrick. "You follow behind and keep an eye on the brat." He bent, picked up a cloth bag and hoisted it over his shoulder.
"What's in the bag?" Patrick asked.
"A gift for your father." Thomas moved forward, jerking on the lead when Daniel didn't follow immediately.
"Get moving," Patrick said, shoving the boy in the middle of the back.
A choked, "Maggie," followed by a sob, broke from Daniel as they moved across the bridge and into the darkness.
*****
Dirkk stood on a high boulder and looked across the clearing. A thousand fenris'ena stood shoulder to shoulder, their silver eyes upon him. He'd called all to him. The remaining five hundred etain'daman also waited, eyes downcast, for a command. An army equal to tens of thousands of humans, elves and dwarfs. The dragons will be a problem, a voice inside his head insisted.
He pushed the thought away. The demon Daraodh had promised. He must trust in Daraodh and the dagger. His gaze hesitated upon the etain'daman. There were many, but there should have been more. Rage welled inside him again and he clenched his hands into fists. How dare she turn against him. He had made her his queen. He reached up and grasped the emerald dagger resting at his waist.
"Regan, you will pay for your deceit." He knew they'd gone to Hafgan's Cinnard. The fenris'ena also reported the harlot queen and her troops were there. It was time. He would squash them all and assume his rightful place as king of Daradawn. Regan would be his slave, naked and cowering at his feet. I will make her watch as I feed the puny mage she calls husband to my fenris'ena. The thought made him smile.
Three fenris'ena at the edge of the crowd turned and snarled at a clump of brush.
"Hold," Dirkk commanded.
Patrick entered the clearing. The boy hesitated on seeing the mass of wolves and etain'daman.
"Come forward, my son, " Dirkk said.
At his silent command, the fenris'ena parted. He saw the boy take a deep breath and then move toward him. He is strong, my son. And I will make him stronger still. His blood may be that of the bastard Rourk, but his heart and soul belong to me.
Patrick stopped beside him. Dirkk draped an arm across the boy's shoulders and turned him to face the fenris'ena and etain'daman. "Our army. An army that marches to Cinnard and glory."
Patrick smiled. "We've brought the brat."
"What?"
"The High Mages' brat, Daniel. Thomas has already taken him to the cages. There is more news." He told Dirkk of Queen Tessa's doubts, of Regan's reaction of hurt rage and how she had fled the castle.
Dirkk laughed at the news. "Now she will see. I again have her son. Her place is with me. The dagger wills it, and with her come the dragons. All will be well."
"You will still have her as your queen," Patrick asked.
Dirkk clutched the emerald dagger. "Daraodh has chosen her." He stared across the clearing. "And yes, I want her." He lifted his hands above his head. With one voice, the fenris'ena howled. "We go to claim what is ours." He leapt from the top of the boulder and strode through the fenris'ena and etain'daman. Patrick followed, and the wolves and the fairie demons fell in behind him.
*****
Regan looked from behind the flowering bower vine. She took a de
ep breath and almost gagged on the overpowering perfume of the gone-wild roses. The keep blazed with light, but no one walked the garden's paths. Just then, the moon chose to shed its shroud of clouds and she swore beneath her breath as it cast wide swaths of white light across the shaggy trees and shrubs.
"Come on. Just give me some cover until I get to the moat," she murmured. As if her request had been heard, the clouds closed up and the garden again slipped into darkness. "Thank you, Goddess."
She stepped from behind the vine and forced herself to stroll casually toward the old stables. Wet grass brushed her calves as she walked. She hadn't encountered any guards, but had a story prepared if challenged. The lack of guards had at first surprised her, but then she'd remembered she was at Cinnard, not Raya. Such disrespect for Hafgan came as no big surprise. If you treated people with dignity and respect, it's what you received in return. If you didn't, then they pretty much did what they pleased if you weren't riding herd on them.
Regan heard Jax chuff softly as she passed the stable. She glanced through the listing door and could see the white gleam of Skylar's head as the stallion poked it over the top of a stall.
At the drawbridge, she glanced back, almost wishing someone would come to stop this act she and Kelsey had set out upon, but no one followed. She kept to the middle of the bridge as she crossed. A muted sound froze her in mid-step. It sounded like something whimpering in pain. Oh, God, they weren't feeding something still alive to that monster, were they? She walked to the edge of the bridge and looked down. A form lay on a rock below, and as she watched it moved. Down the length of the moat she heard a splash. The clouds parted again and moonlight washed the black water below. Ripples formed, and moved toward the drawbridge.
Regan looked again at the rock and her heart jumped up to clog her throat. "Mags?"
The basset hound lifted her head and then dropped it again onto the rock, giving a slight wag of her tail. Regan looked down the moat. Two pale-green bulbous eyes broke the top of the oily water, followed by an elongated snout. Oh, no, you don't. Inside her the Power churned, and she drew it up into her palms.
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