Bishop, Anne - Dark Jewels 02 - Heir to the Shadows (v1.0)

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Bishop, Anne - Dark Jewels 02 - Heir to the Shadows (v1.0) Page 43

by Heir to the Shadows [lit]


  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.

  A Consort's ring.

  He finally stepped closer.

  If he read the message correctly, she had healed but was soul-scarred and not completely whole. By claiming the

  Consort's ring, he would have the privilege of savoring what the chalice held, but the sharp edges could wound any man who tried.

  However, a careful man . . .

  Yes, he decided as he studied the sharp-edged chips, a careful man who knew those edges existed and was willing to risk the wounds would be able to drink from that cup.

  Satisfied, he returned to the trail and continued climbing.

  4 / Kaeleer

  Saetan fell out of bed in his haste to find out why Lucivar was roaring so early in the morning.

  A part of his mind insisted that he couldn't go charging out of the room wearing nothing but his skin, so he grabbed the trousers he'd dropped over a chair when the birthday party finally wound down but didn't stop to put them on. He wrenched his arm when he tried to open the door that had swollen from last night's rain. Swearing, he gripped the doorknob and, using Craft, tore the door off its hinges.

  By then the hallway was stuffed with bodies in various stages of dress. He tried to push past Karla and got a sharp elbow in the belly.

  "What in the name of Hell is going on here?" he yelled. No one bothered to answer him because, at that moment, Lucivar stepped out of Jaenelle's bedroom and roared, "cat!"

  Apparently Lucivar didn't have any inhibitions about standing stark naked in front of a group of young men and women. Of course, a man in his prime with that kind of build had no reason to feel inhibited.

  And no one in their right mind would tease a man who vibrated with such intense fury.

  "Where are Ladvarian and Kaelas?" Lucivar demanded.

  "More to the point," Saetan said, pulling on his trousers,

  "where's Jaenelle?" He looked pointedly at the Ring of

  Honor that circled Lucivar's organ. "You can feel her

  through that, can't you?"

  Lucivar quivered with the effort to stay in control. "I can

  feel her, but I can't find her." His fist hammered down on a small table and split it in half. "Damn her, I'm going to whack her ass for this!"

  "Who are you to dare say that?" Chaosti snarled, pushing to the front of the group, his Gray Jewel glowing with his gathering power.

  Lucivar bared his teeth. "I'm the Warlord Prince who serves her, the warrior sworn to protect her. But I can't protect her if I don't know where she is. Her moon's blood started last night. Do I need to remind you how vulnerable a witch is during those days? Now she's upset—I can feel that much—and her only protection is two half-trained males because she didn't tell me where she was going."

  "That's enough," Saetan said sharply. "Leash the anger. now!" While he waited, he called in his shoes and stuffed his feet into them. Then he froze Chaosti and Lucivar with a look.

  When no one moved, he stepped away from the group and pressed his back against the wall for support. He took a few deep breaths to calm his own temper, closed his eyes, and descended to the Black.

  While it was true that witches couldn't channel Jeweled strength during their moon time without pain, that wouldn't stop Jaenelle.

  Using himself as a center point, he cautiously pushed his Black-Jeweled strength outward in ever-widening circles, looking for some sense of her that would at least give him an idea of where she was. The circles widened farther and farther, beyond the village of Maghre, beyond the isle of Scelt, until . . .

  Kaetien!

  He felt fear and horror braiding with anger growing into rage.

  Black rage. Spiraling rage. Cold rage.

  He started to pull back to escape the psychic storm that was about to explode over Sceval. He strengthened his inner barriers, knowing that it wouldn't help much. Her rage would flood in under his barriers, where he had no protection from it. He just hoped he had enough time to warn the others.

  kaetien!

  As she unleashed the strength of her Black Jewels, Jaenelle's anguished scream filled his head and paralyzed him. A rush of dark power smashed against him, tossing him around like a tidal wave tosses driftwood, at the same time a psychic shield snapped up around Sceval. Then, nothing.

  He floated just beyond that shield, scared but oddly comforted—like being safely indoors while a violent storm raged outside.

  He must have gotten caught between the conflicting uses of Black power when Jaenelle put up the shield to contain the storm. Clever little witch. And all that psychic lightning had a terrifying kind of beauty. He wouldn't mind just floating here for a while, but he had the nagging feeling there was something he should do. *High Lord.*

  Damn troublesome voice. How was he supposed to think when ... * Father. *

  Father. Father. Hell's fire, Lucivar! Up. He had to go up, out of the Black. Had to get his head clear enough to tell Lucivar. . . . Which way was up? Someone grabbed him and dragged him out of the abyss. He sputtered and snarled. Did him as much good as a puppy snarling when it was picked up by the scruff.

  The next thing he knew, something was pressed against his lips and blood was filling his mouth.

  "Swallow it or I'll knock your damn teeth down your throat."

  Ah, yes. Lucivar. Both of him.

  His eyes finally focused. He pushed Lucivar's wrist away from his mouth. "Enough." He tried to get to his feet, which wasn't easy with Lucivar holding him down on one side and Chaosti holding him down on the other. "Is everyone all right?"

  Karla bent over him. "We're fine. You're the one who fainted."

  "I didn't faint. I got caught . . ." He started struggling. "Let me up. If the storm's over, we have to get to Sceval."

  "Cat's there?" Lucivar asked, hauling him to his feet.

  "Yes." Remembering Jaenelle's anguished scream, Saetan shuddered. "You and I have to get there as soon as possible."

  Karla poked a sharp-nailed finger into his bare chest. "We have to get there as soon as possible."

  Before he could argue, they'd all disappeared into their rooms.

  "If we move, we can get there ahead of the rest of them," Lucivar said quietly as they entered Saetan's bedroom. He called in his own clothes and hurriedly dressed. "Are you strong enough for this?"

  Saetan pulled on a shirt. "I'm ready. Let's go."

  "Are you strong enough for this?"

  Saetan brushed past Lucivar without answering. How could a man answer that question when he didn't know what was waiting for him?

  "Mother Night," Saetan whispered. "Mother Night."

  He and Lucivar stood on a flat-topped hill that was one of Sceva’s official landing places, the gently rolling land spread out below them. Large meadows provided good grazing. Stands of trees provided shade on summer afternoons. Creeks veined the land with clean water.r />
  He had stood on this hill a handful of times in the past five years, looking down on the unicorns while the stallions kept careful watch over the grazing mares and the foals playing tag.

  Now he looked down on a slaughter.

  Turning to the north, Lucivar shook his head and swore softly. "This wasn't a few bastards who had come for a horn to take home as a hunting trophy, this was a war."

  Saetan blinked away tears. Of all the Blood, of all the kindred races, the unicorns had always been his favorite. They had been the stars in the Darkness, the living examples of power and strength blended with gentleness and beauty. "When the others arrive, we'll split up to look for survivors."

  The unicorns attacked at the same moment the coven and the male circle appeared on the hill.

  "Shield!" Saetan and Lucivar shouted. They threw Black and Ebon-gray shields around the whole group while the other males formed a protective circle around the coven.

  The eight unicorn stallions veered off before they hit the shields head-on, but the power they were channeling through their horns and hooves created blinding-bright sparks as they scraped across the invisible barriers.

  "Wait!" Saetan shouted, the thunder in his voice barely competing with the stallions' screams and trumpeted challenges. "We're friends! We're here to help you!"

  *You are not friends,* said an older stallion with a broken horn. *You are humans!* "We're friends," Saetan insisted.

  *you are not friends !* the unicorns screamed. *you are humans!*

  Sceron took a step forward. "The Centauran people have never fought with our unicorn Brothers and Sisters. We do not wish to fight now."

  *You come to kill. First you call us Brothers and then you come to kill. No more. no more. This time, we kill!* Karla stuck her head over Saetan's shoulder. "Damn your hooves and horns, we're Healers. Let us take care of the injured!"

  The unicorns hesitated for a moment, then shook their heads and charged the shields again,

  "I don't recognize any of them," Lucivar said, "and they're too blood-crazed to listen."

  Saetan watched the stallions charge the shields over and over again. He sympathized with their rage, fully understood their hatred. But he couldn't walk away until they were calm enough to listen because more would die if they weren't cared for soon.

  And because Jaenelle was among those bodies, somewhere.

  Then the unicorns stopped attacking. They circled the group, snorting and pawing the ground, their horns lowered for another charge.

  "Thank the Darkness," Khary muttered as a young stallion slowly climbed up the hill, favoring his left foreleg.

  Relieved, the girls began murmuring about healing teams.

  Watching the young stallion approach, Saetan wished he could share their confidence, but out of all of Kaetien's offspring, Mistral had always been the most wary of humans—and the most dangerous. Necessary traits for a young male who everyone anticipated would be the next Warlord Prince of Sceval, but damned uncomfortable for the man on the receiving end of that distrust.

  "Mistral." Saetan stepped forward, raising his empty hands. "You've known all of us since you were a foal. Let us help."

  *I have known you,* Mistral said reluctantly. *That sounds ominous,* Lucivar said on an Ebon-gray spear thread.

  *If this goes wrong, get everyone else out of here,* Saetan replied. *I'll hold the shield.* *We still have to find Cat.* *Get them out, Yaslana.* *Yes, High Lord.*

  Saetan took another step forward. "Mistral, I swear to you by the Jewels that I wear and by my love for the Lady that we mean no harm."

  Whatever Mistral thought about a human male laying claim to the Lady was lost when Ladvarian's light tenor pounded into their heads.

  *High Lord? High Lord! We have some little ones shielded, but they're scared and won't listen. They keep running into the shield. Jaenelle is crying and won't listen either. High Lord?*

  Saetan held his breath. Which would prove stronger— Mistral's loyalty to his own kind or his love for and belief in Jaenelle?

  Mistral looked toward the north. After a long moment, he snorted. *The little Brother believes in you. We will trust. For now.*

  Desperately wanting to sit down and not daring to show any sign of weakness, Saetan cautiously lowered the Black shield. A moment later, Lucivar dropped the Ebon-gray.

  They divided into groups. Khary and Morghann went to help Ladvarian and Kaelas with the foals. Lucivar and Karla headed north from the landing place with Karla as primary Healer, Lucivar as secondary, and the rest of their team scouting for the wounded and providing assistance. Saetan, Gabrielle, and their team headed south.

  It hurt to look at the mares' hacked-up bodies. It hurt even worse to see a young colt lying dead over his dam, his forelegs sliced off. There were some he could save. There were many more where all he could do was take away the pain to ease the journey back to the Darkness.

  Hours passed as he searched for the foals that might be hidden under their dams. He found yearlings hidden in shallow dips in the land, dips that held a power unlike any he'd ever felt before. He didn't trespass into those places. The young unicorns watched him with terrified eyes as he carefully circled around them looking for wounds. It came to him slowly as he stepped around torn human bodies that any of the unicorns who had reached these places had, at worst, minor cuts or scratches.

  He continued to work, ignoring the headache the sun gave him, ignoring the aching muscles and growing fatigue.

  His emotions numbed as a defense against the slaughter.

  But they weren't numb enough when he found Jaenelle and Kaetien.

  "There, my fine Lady," Lucivar said, running one hand down the mare's neck. "It'll feel sore for a few days, but it will heal well."

  The mare's colt snorted and pawed the ground until Lucivar gave them a few carrot chunks and a sugar lump.

  When the mare and her colt moved off, he helped himself to a long drink of water and half of a cheese sandwich while he waited for the next unicorn to gather the courage to be touched by a human.

  May the Darkness bless Khary's equine-loving heart. After a rapid look at the carnage, Khary and Aaron had gone back to Maghre. They'd returned with Daffodil and Sundancer pulling carts loaded with healing supplies, food

  for the humans, changes of clothes, blankets, and Khary's "bribes"—carrots and sugar lumps.

  Seeing Daffodil and Sundancer working confidently with the humans had acted as a balm on the unicorns' fear. The words "I serve the Lady" had produced an even stronger response. On the strength of those words, most of the unicorns had let him touch them and heal what he could.

  Taking the last bite of his sandwich, he watched a yearling colt cautiously approach him, its skin twitching as the flies buzzed around the shoulder wound protected by a fading shield.

  Lucivar spread his arms, showing empty hands. "I serve—"

  The yearling bolted as Sceron's war cry shattered the uneasy truce and Kaelas roared in challenge.

  Calling in his Eyrien war blade, Lucivar launched himself skyward.

  As he sped toward the man running for the landing place, he coldly ticked off each little scene as it flashed under him: Morghann, Kalush, and Ladvarian herding the foals into the trees; Kaelas pulling a man down and tearing him open; Astar pivoting on her hindquarters as she nocked an arrow in a Centauran bow; Morton shielding Karla and the unicorn she was healing; Khary, Aaron, and Sceron protecting each others' backs as they unleashed the strength of their Jewels in short, controlled bursts that ripped the invading humans apart.

  Focusing on his chosen prey, Lucivar unleashed a burst of Ebon-gray power just as the man reached the bottom of the hill.

  The man fell, both legs neatly broken, his Yellow Jewel drained.

  Lucivar landed at the same moment the old stallion with the broken horn charged the downed man. *Wait!* he yelled as he threw a tight Red shield over the man.

  The stallion screamed in rage and pivoted to face Lucivar.

 
; *Wait,* Lucivar said again. *First I want answers. Then you can pound him.*

  The stallion snorted but stopped pawing the ground.

  Keeping a watchful eye on the stallion, Lucivar dropped the shield. Applying a foot to a shoulder, he rolled the man over onto his back. "This is a closed Territory," he said harshly. "Why are you here?"

  "I don't have to answer to the likes of you."

  Brave words for a man with two broken legs. Stupid, but brave.

  Using the Eyrien war blade, Lucivar pointed to the man's right knee and looked at the stallion. "Once. Right there."

  The stallion reared and happily obliged.

  "Shall we try this again?" Lucivar asked mildly once the man stopped screaming. "The other knee or a hand next? Your choice."

  "You've no right to do this. When this is reported—"

  Lucivar laughed. "Reported to whom? And for what? You're an invader waging war on the rightful inhabitants of this island. Who's going to care what happens to you?"

  "The Dark Council, that's who." Sweat beaded the man's forehead as Lucivar fingered the war blade. "You've no claim to this land."

  "Neither do you," Lucivar said coldly.

  "We've a claim, you bat-winged bastard. My Queen and five others were given this island as their new territory. We came here first to settle the territory boundaries and take care of any problems."

  "Like the race that's ruled this land for thousands of years? Yes, I can see how that might be a problem."

  "No one rules here. This is unclaimed land."

  "This is the unicorns' Territory," Lucivar said fiercely.

  "I hurt," the man whined. "I need a Healer."

  "They're all busy. Let's get back to something more interesting. The Dark Council has no right to hand out land, and they have no right to replace an established race who already has a claim."

  "Show me the signed land grant. My Queen has one, properly signed and sealed."

  Lucivar gritted his teeth. "The unicorns rule here."

  The man rolled his head back and forth. "Animals have no rights to the land. Only human claims are considered

  legitimate. Anything that lives here now lives by the Queens' sufferance."

  "They're kindred," Lucivar said, his voice roughened by feelings he didn't want to name. "They're Blood."

 

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