"I said, have you seen my wife?"
She heard Peter ask. His voice came from the direction of the stables.
"No, Mage. I have seen no one."
Regan looked from Maggie to the nearing moat monster. She hesitated for a moment and then released the Power in a bolt of blue. It struck between the monster's eyes and it rolled, bellowed rage, and slapped the water with its giant tail.
"What was that?" she heard Peter yell.
"It's the moat thing."
Regan readied another bolt of blue flame. With a satisfied smile, she flung it at the water below. It struck the monster in mid-roll. An ice-blue aura spread its length. Her smile widened as she watched it shudder and convulse, then sink beneath the filthy water.
Regan looked again at Maggie. The basset hound struggled to her feet.
"Maggie, stay," she ordered, and the basset hound sat down upon the rock.
Regan glanced back toward the stable. Did she have time to rescue Maggie?
She watched Peter slide to a halt at the beginning of the bridge. His gaze moved over her, a frown of disbelief etching his forehead. "Regan? What are you doing?"
"Maggie's down there. I killed that thing." She pointed to the dark water. "Get her, please." She turned and started across the bridge.
"Stop. Where do you think you are going?"
She halted, but did not turn to face him. She took a deep breath. "I'm going to where I'm appreciated," she said, "where I'm not doubted."
"To Dirkk?"
She heard the angry pain in Peter's voice. "Yes," she whispered, then louder, "Yes. Dirkk's right. I guess it was always meant to be."
"No," Peter said. "Come back to the keep. You are not thinking. We will talk about it."
She turned to face him. "Who is we? You, me and your queen?"
He took a step toward her and she backed away. "She is your queen, too."
Regan laughed. "Is she?" She shook her head. "I don't think so."
Peter's face went white in the moonlight. "What has he done to you?"
"He opened my eyes. Dirkk puts me first. With you I will always be second."
She saw Peter's shoulders sag. "What of Daniel and Catherine? What of our children?"
"They will be mine."
Peter straightened. "What?"
Regan forced herself to smile. "I will have my children, just not you."
His lips tightened into a thin line. "You will not have the children."
"I will," she said.
He took a step toward her and she raised her palms toward him. "Don't."
"You would use the Power against me?"
She watched his hands clench at his sides. "If you try to stop me, yes, and you know I am stronger than you."
From behind Peter came more voices, two of them, Angus and Rourk's.
"Let me go, Peter. It's for the best." She heard the pleading in her voice and did not care. "Don't make me hurt them. I will if they try to stop me."
From the moat below, Maggie barked loudly.
"Please, get Maggie."
"Go," Peter said. "Go to your new master." His voice was cold and emotionless. "But know this. We will defeat you and, when it is time, I will take you to Tessa, trussed like a pig for the slaughter."
He turned his back on her and moved to the edge of the bridge.
Regan choked back a sob, took a step toward him, then turned and ran across the drawbridge, into the darkness.
Forgive me, she silently begged, tears running down her cheeks, but I have to do this for you, our children and Daradawn.
*****
An hour later Regan leaned against an oak's trunk.
"Thea." The voice drifted into her head.
She pushed away from the tree and scanned the darkness. "Who is it?"
DaKar came from the brush beside her. The unicorn dipped his horn in greeting. "You are troubled."
Regan could not meet his silver gaze. "I've got to find Dirkk."
"I know what you do. I read it in your mind. Is it wise? You risk much."
She forced herself to look into the unicorn's eyes. "I've got to get the emerald dagger away from him."
DaKar stared at her for a long moment. "If it truly be your chosen path, I will guide you."
She glanced back in the direction of Cinnard. "I have to see it through."
The unicorn nodded. "Then follow."
They'd only walked a short distance when DaKar stopped. "They come."
Before she could ask who, the unicorn turned and slipped into the darkness. From the trees in front of her, fenris'ena emerged with lowered heads. Soft growls rumbled from their chests.
She called the Power and pulled it up into her palms. "Dirkk, I've come back."
The fenris'ena circled her. The Power formed a small ball of flame inside each of her palms.
"I know you can hear me through their ears. I don't want to kill them. We will need them."
The closest fenris'ena's lips parted and Dirkk's voice came. "We need them? You ran from me, taking my etain' daman."
She knew what she had to say, but she had to force the words out. She drew air into her lungs. "It was a mistake. I know it now. I had to rescue my son and Angus."
Dirkk laughed. "Why was it a mistake?"
Regan felt the hurt of Tessa's words again and used it to make her voice tremble. "They do not trust me. They think I've sided with you."
"Bring her to me," Dirkk ordered.
Regan followed the fenris'ena into the trees.
In a clearing, more than a hundred mage globes hovered and cast pools of bright light upon the army gathered there.
They are going to Cinnard. I've got to stop them.
The fenris'ena led her in a weaving path through the throng of etain'daman and fenris'ena. She saw Dirkk and walked toward him. The emerald dagger was sheathed at his side. As her look moved across it, a soft melody entered her mind. The Power surged in response and sought to send tendrils upward toward her head and the lilting sounds. She forced them back into place.
The melody flowed down her body, and the Power escaped her hold and rushed to meet it. Regan stumbled. The soft notes knifed into the Power and she fell to her knees and pressed her hands against her lurching stomach.
"What is wrong?" Dirkk demanded, coming to her.
Regan looked up, unable to speak. She closed her eyes, sought The Power and saw it and the music. The music was an emerald twine of green lacing in and out of the blue pulsing sphere. As she watched, the emerald strand tried to flatten and spread, but the Power pressed against it, forced it to hold its shape. Regan felt hands grip her shoulders, and the emerald twine blazed with green iridescence. At the same time, the Power paled to a watery blue.
"No." She tore away from Dirkk's grip and rolled to the side. With the broken contact, the Power blazed bright again and the emerald twine, faded to translucent green, withdrew from the sphere and climbed upward. With a last haunting note, the melody left her head.
Regan opened her eyes. Trembling, she stared at the emerald dagger. "What do you want from me?"
The answer was a whisper inside her head. "Touch me and know my commands."
She stood and reached toward Dirkk. The Power surged, and rushed unbidden into her hand.
"Hold," Dirkk cried and backed from her.
She glanced into her right palm, saw a blue sphere waiting there, and knew it wanted to join with the dagger.
Something hurled her to the ground. Thomas lay atop her, pinning her hands.
"Get off me," she snapped.
The healer did not move, and another set of hands fastened around her throat.
"What do you wish, father?" She recognized Patrick Bannion's voice.
She shifted her eyes to the side, but could see nothing but a pair of boots.
"Do you control the Power?"
She felt inside. Yes, it had subsided to its dormant and waiting state. Unable to speak, she nodded.
"Release her."
; Patrick removed his hands.
"No," Thomas argued. "We must kill her. This is our best chance."
She felt Thomas jerked from her. "Do not question me," Dirkk said.
Regan sat up. Dirkk towered over her, his hand gripped the emerald dagger's hilt. "Does it still call you?"
She could still hear its faint whisper, but felt no urge to touch it. "No," she whispered.
"Daraodh wishes both of us. A king and a queen," Dirkk said, but uncertainty coated his voice. "What happened?"
"The voice wanted me to touch the emerald dagger," she said, not telling him of the battle that had raged inside her body. She stared at the emerald embedded in the dagger's hilt. If the Power and I can control Daraodh, what will it mean? I know the demon is the key to the fenris'ena. They would be mine, but what else?
"And I will let you touch it," Dirkk said, drawing her gaze back to his face. "But the dagger can have but one master."
Maybe you're just a delivery boy, she thought, but nodded silently and climbed to her feet.
"No," Thomas said, starting toward her.
Dirkk pointed at three fenris'ena. "Hold." The wolves stepped between Thomas and Regan. "She is my queen, chosen by me and Daraodh. You will honor her as such, or I will feed you to them."
"And if she is a traitor?" Thomas demanded. "Make her prove herself to you. She fled you once and took a large part of your army. What if she seeks to weaken us even more?"
Dirkk frowned. "What do you suggest?"
"A test, a simple deed to see if she is truly with us."
"Go on."
Thomas shot a glance of satisfaction at Regan before answering. "Have her form a fairie into an etain'daman."
"A forming?" Dirkk looked at her. "We have no fairie."
"Ah, but we do." Thomas reached behind him and drug a bag forward. He loosened its top, then shook a form onto the ground. It was a fairie, bound hand and foot. Thomas turned it over with the toe of his boot. Over a strip of tape that covered his mouth, Talix's eyes glared upward.
"What is this?" Dirkk demanded. "Do you wish to destroy all my allies?"
"He is a traitor," Thomas said. "He's gone over to the harlot queen."
"Heed your words," Dirkk said, and the fenris'ena growled and pressed closer.
Patrick spat into the dirt at Talix's side. "Father, he is right. The fairie is Tessa's new pet. I saw him perched on the table beside her at Hafgan's."
A red flush transfused Dirkk's face. He reached and ripped the tape from Talix's mouth. "Is this true?"
Regan readied herself for more self-serving whining, but her eyes widened in surprise at the fairie's words.
"You betrayed me," Talix snapped. "Queen Tessa Angelique De'Amberville has never gone back on her word."
Dirkk jerked the fairie up by his hair until their faces were at the same level. Talix's small face twisted with pain, but he did not cringe or look away.
"You will make a fine etain'daman," Dirkk said.
Thomas pointed at Regan. "She must prove herself. We dare not attack with two traitors among us."
She fought to keep her feelings from showing on her face, but knew if she did a forming, the dagger was as good as hers. Glaring at Thomas, she said. "If that's what it takes, I will do the forming. It's your call."
Dirkk looked toward Cinnard. "If she but summons the dragons against our enemies, it is proof enough."
"And if she turns them against us, what is to stop them?" Thomas said.
"We have her son."
"What?" Regan cried in disbelief. "Daniel is at Cinnard."
Dirkk smiled. "Daniel is again my guest."
Pulling the Power into her palms, she spun to face him. "Bring me my son."
Dirkk jerked the dagger free and stared into her eyes as the fenris'ena pushed in closer around them. "Can the Power kill all of them before they kill you?"
"I do not know, but you will die. I guarantee it."
"Regan, my queen, I would not harm your son."
She lifted her hands and pointed them palms outward toward him. "Then bring him to me, now."
Dirkk frowned, then turned to an etain'daman. "Bring the boy."
Silence, so thick with emotion it could almost be seen, settled across the clearing as they waited.
Daniel ran toward her. "Momma."
"Stand beside me," she said, calming the Power. Regan lowered her hands. She swept a quick glance over him. "Are you okay?"
"Momma, I—"
"Not now. We'll talk later." Regan turned and stared hard into Dirkk's eyes. "Never again will you threaten me with my son. Do you understand? Joining with you is my decision. I will not tolerate you using my son to try to control me."
"Yes, my queen." He looked at Daniel. "What do you wish to be done with your son now?"
Regan hesitated. She looked into Daniel's eyes. They were huge and full of puzzled fear. "Take him to his room inside the cave."
"As you wish." Dirkk pointed to the etain'daman. "Take the young lord to his room."
"No, Momma."
"Daniel, go. I'll be there to get you in a little while."
"But—"
She held up a hand in warning. "You must do as I say."
Daniel stuck out his lower lip in mutiny and she cocked an eyebrow in warning. Tears flooded the boy's eyes, but he turned from her and stumbled after the etain'daman.
"I'm ready," she said.
Dirkk turned to face his army. "Then back to the cave."
*****
Mage globeshovered and cast a white glow into all but the left farthest corner.
Bands of silver glistened in the magic-smoothed, stone, while woven rugs of scarlet, gold, and black covered the floor. Tapestries of ancient fairie kings and queens draped the walls.
In the shadowed corner, runes carved into the stone floor curved outward. A char-coated brazier stood in their center.
Regan watched as Dirkk stared into the brazier's black concave bottom. He muttered beneath his breath. A sickly green ember formed and floated in the darkness. He leaned forward and breathed upon it. The ember flared and the flame spread until green fire danced on the air inside the brazier.
He picked up a small bowl, its insides stained a brackish-brown.
"Your hand, my queen."
Holding his gaze, Regan extended her left hand. His fingers were hot on her skin as they pushed back the sleeve of her shirt. She dropped her gaze to the emerald dagger and watched him pull the blade free of the sheath. His eyes bored into hers.
"What will you feel? I know the ecstasy it gives me, but you, with the Power already inside, what will you feel?" He bent and pressed his lips to her forearm. Their touch seared her skin. "It will hurt but for a moment."
She watched as he placed the blade's tip against the inside of her wrist and made a small cut. Where the blade touched, her skin felt instantly frozen. The cold moved up her arm and through her chest. Drowsiness crept across her mind and she felt herself yawn. Inside her stomach, she felt the Power rouse. Tendrils sprang free and climbed to meet the descending cold. They flowed into each other, the cold soothing the Power's flare.
Regan smiled and sighed as the calming heat flowed through her. It was as if her body soaked in a warm comforting bath. They were two parts of the same, Daraodh and the Power. Both neither good or evil. It was the person they worked through which made the decision.
The two recognized each other and blended like lovers separated too long. She heard a gasp. Thomas and Dirkk stared down at her arm in surprise.
She glanced down. The blood that flowed from her arm was the deep purple of concord grapes. She turned her arm over and watched the blood drip into the bowl. After a scant ten drops, the flow stopped on its own. The skin around the wound became bright red and the sides of the incision knitted together. Thomas moaned as the red changed to pale pink. A faint scar formed and then faded, until nothing remained to show where Dirkk had made the cut.
"What magic is this?" Thomas whispered, stepp
ing back.
Dirkk's face paled, but he said nothing. He turned to look at the blade. Purple blood coated its length and, as they watched, the blood flared into red-gold flames that danced along the blade toward Dirkk's fingers. He screamed, dropped the blazing dagger.
As if in a dream, Regan bent and picked it up. She watched, unafraid, as the flames spread toward her own fingers. Inside her, she felt the merged powers rise, travel her arm, and flow outward to her hand gripping the dagger. A small marble of power formed above her wrist. It was not blue, but instead a pulsing purple. The red-gold flame and ball of purple met at the arch of her fist just above her thumb. It was as if the flame touched water. It hissed and evaporated in a steamy haze.
Thomas fell to his knees and buried his head in his hands. "Demon. She is a demon."
Regan held the blade toward Dirkk. He reached for it, then screamed and drew his hand back. Beneath the black mask his green eyes narrowed, then he pulled the single chain leading down into the sheath's twin chains from around his neck.
"It will be as you command, Daraodh." He held the emerald dagger's sheath out toward her.
Regan inclined her head so the chain could be placed around her neck. The links of gold felt weightless. The twin chains rested between her breasts as she tucked the sheath into her waistband.
"The dagger has tasted blood and now will fulfill your wish," Dirkk said. "What is it to be?"
Thomas scrambled to his feet. His face was pallid and taut. "She must prove herself even more now."
Dirkk turned a wry smile upon him. "What will you do if she chooses not to?"
Thomas did not answer and Dirkk faced her again. He pointed to Talix, who lay mute and emotionless in a heap beside the brazier.
She hesitated. In the back of her mind she felt the milling fenris'ena. She looked from Thomas to Dirkk. Can I kill them both before they get to me? They can't take the dagger, but they could still kill me.
Regan nodded.
Dirkk picked up the fairie by his wings with one hand and used his other to extend Talix's tiny hand toward her. "Cut across his palm."
She met the fairie's eyes for a moment. "I am sorry," she sent, and was surprised when his words floated into her mind.
"We must do what the times demand. I have only myself to blame."
The Emerald Dagger Page 25
