Rayne had come for him, not the demon, and he did not wish for this moment to be tainted by the demon’s control. She would not understand if she looked into his eyes and saw the demon’s darkness.
She had such a beautiful white soul. It shone around her, almost blinding him. Perhaps the day would come when he’d be forced to take that soul from her, but not today.
“Rayne, my love.”
Her hand came up swiftly, and he saw, too late, that she held something shiny in her hand. Not metal. If he had seen metal, he might’ve been forewarned, but this was simply a long and slender piece of stone that sparkled and shone bright, like Rayne’s soul. Crystal. It was simply crystal.
With a force unexpected from one so delicate, she pushed the crystal into his heart. Ciro watched it enter his body, only then realizing that it was a weapon. A dagger.
The crystal dagger.
The demon screamed, and the sound all but burst Ciro’s eardrums. It might’ve burst his heart, too, but for the dagger blade which was buried within it. He felt the demon leaving him, not of its own free will as it sometimes did, but by force. As the demon was sucked from Ciro’s body, the dagger in Rayne’s hand was filled with a smoky darkness, one swirling tendril at a time.
“Why?” he whispered.
Again, that odd glimmer affected his vision and he blinked hard. When that was done, it was not Rayne who stood before him, dagger in hand, but the sentinel who had escorted her here.
“How...” His eyes cut to the wizard, the enchanter, and Ciro realized that he had been tricked. Another woman wore Rayne’s clothes and even her hair, and when he saw that she was healing the damaged emperor, he knew who she was. The blond healer who had come back from the dead, the new empress of this palace, the woman who loved his brother the way Rayne was supposed to love him.
Why were none of his men rushing to save him? Why did they not fight? Even though the demon was all but gone, for a moment Ciro connected with his Own, his legion, his army. They were already running away, fleeing him and the palace they had taken. They were soulless cowards unable to fight without the demon’s strength to feed them. Most of them would be dead before nightfall. They would kill one another if his brother’s armies did not do the deed for them. Even Diella ran, half-dead and desperate to save her child.
Our child.
Her child now.
Ciro dropped to his knees. He felt as if he’d been deflated. Sapped. There was no power left in his body or in what remained of his soul. He could barely lift his hand, and when he did, he saw that it was thin and childish, as it had been before the demon had shared its power.
“What have you done?” he asked.
The sentinel held the dagger in his hand. It was no longer crystal clear, as it had been, but was black as the demon’s eyes. When he saw that, he knew what had happened. The demon had been taken from him, taken and trapped, imprisoned in the dagger.
Ciro placed a hand on his chest, where he bled like any other man might when stabbed. He was no longer immortal, no longer immune to the wounds inflicted by such mortal weapons. Even the back of his head, where the candlestick had hit him, hurt horribly. He had forgotten pain, for a while, but as he bled pain returned for him.
Death was coming, too, and he was mightily afraid of what awaited him in the afterlife.
Ciro looked at the enchanter, who had been freed by his wife. Sian Sayre Chamblyn, emperor, he supposed, was already somewhat healed, thanks to her ministrations. She loved him, he could tell. She’d come here for him when the odds had been against her; she’d come here at the risk of her own life.
Would he have ever known anything of the sort if he had not joined with the demon? Would any woman have loved him this way? He didn’t know. He would never know.
“I had no choice,” he said. “Fynnian tricked me. The demon seduced me with promises.” As he said the words, he knew there had been a time when he could’ve fought for his own soul and for others, and he had not. He had accepted all that the demon promised, not caring about the cost.
“I really did always wish for a brother,” Ciro said, and then his world went black and he fell to the floor face first.
What came for him at death was as dark as the demon trapped in the crystal dagger. He tried to scream and beg for mercy, but could not.
Chapter Sixteen
Rayne looked to the west and unconsciously fingered her newly shortened hair. Lyr had said she was “still beautiful” but she wasn’t so sure. It was odd, to feel a breeze upon the back of her bare neck.
If locks of her hair sewn into a bonnet helped to fool Ciro, then she was not sorry. Her hair would grow back in time.
Some twit had suggested they use horsehair instead of chopping off her long locks, but she’d been horrified to think anyone would be fooled by such a ploy, and Lyr had insisted that it would not be sufficient. They were taking enough of a chance in trying to fool Ciro without that artifice. Her hair, her dress, an incredible enchantment—if all went well.
Would all go well? She hadn’t slept since Lyr and the others had left. Two days and a few hours, and she could not even think of sleep until she knew. Had Lyr been successful, or was Ciro headed this way?
Queen Keelia, scantily dressed as usual and smiling widely, approached with a quick step. There was joy in that smile, and Rayne felt the joy to her toes. Still she waited, breath held, for the words to come.
“He did it,” Keelia said before she reached Rayne. “I felt a new light in the world the moment the demon was trapped and Ciro died.”
“Ciro is dead?” Rayne asked. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Keelia placed her hands on Rayne’s shoulders, and those odd golden eyes locked on to hers. “A weight was lifted from us all, and a darkness which had hidden many secrets from me dissolved. There are still a few battles to be fought, but this war is almost over. We won.”
The queen released her grip on Rayne and spun about, shouting to the nearest green-clad sentinel. “You!”
The young soldier jumped. “Yes, Majesty?”
“There are two brothers here. The Arndell brothers. Do you know them?”
“Yes, Majesty.”
“Are they in camp?”
“They are preparing to ride with General Merin when word comes from the others.”
Keelia shook her head, and long red hair danced. “No. They are to come to me immediately. If Merin gives you any trouble, tell him I insisted. He’s welcome to argue with me himself if he cares to.”
The sentinel nodded and rushed toward the other edge of camp to do as he’d been told.
Keelia said a darkness had been lifted and she could now see. There was so much Rayne wanted to know, and while they waited for the brothers to be fetched, she asked her questions. “Will Lyr be here tonight? Tomorrow? What happens next? For us, I mean, for me and Lyr. Am I carrying a child? Will he ever admit that he loves me?” Her heart caught in her throat. “What will become of me now?”
The queen’s face remained serene, but there was a touch of amusement in her eyes as she answered, “I can tell you everything you wish to know about your future, with enough time and concentration.”
Rayne smiled herself and gave a soft sigh of relief.
“But I won’t,” Keelia finished, still serene.
“But...” Rayne began.
“Your days are meant to be lived one moment at a time, not planned and set to the last detail.”
“I just want to know what lies ahead.”
Keelia shrugged her shoulders. “Life lies ahead. Life filled with surprise and heartache and laughter. It would spoil the coming if you knew what to expect.”
“At least tell me that Lyr’s all right,” Rayne insisted.
Keelia nodded. “He is well.”
“Tell me that he loves me,” she added in a lowered voice.
Again, Keelia smiled. “Why should I bother to tell you that which you already know in your heart?”
The brothers Keelia had
asked for arrived, ending the maddening conversation with an abruptness that left Rayne feeling dissatisfied.
The seer queen studied the brothers from head to toe. Both were young and handsome, perhaps Lyr’s age or a bit older. One was black-haired and green-eyed, solemn of face and precisely dressed. The other had streaks of blond in his dark brown hair, laughing blue eyes, and a half-smile on a wide mouth. He also wore a uniform, but his was sloppily fastened here and there, and his boots were muddy and had been for days.
“You wished to see us?” the black-haired Arndell asked. Keelia took a deep breath. “Yes. I must travel south to meet my parents, and I am entrusting our guest into your hands. Watch her. Guard her.” She glanced over her shoulder and caught Rayne’s eye. “She is a very special woman, though she does not yet know how special.”
Again, it was the black-haired brother who spoke. “Your Majesty, we are to ride out with General Merin perhaps as early as this afternoon. When we are called...”
“You have been called,” Keelia said. “You have been called to guard over this woman with your very lives.” She looked from one brother to another. “As you are both Arndell. I would have your given names as well.”
“Trystan,” the black-haired soldier responded.
His brother answered as well. “Devlyn.”
Keelia nodded. “Trystan and Devlyn Arndell, do not leave M’lady Rayne’s side until I return and relieve you of that duty.”
Trystan nodded curtly, though he was evidently disappointed with his new assignment. Devlyn shrugged as if he did not care one way or another.
Keelia had a word with her husband, and then she did something which shocked Rayne to her very core.
The queen sprouted wings. She put her head back and spread her arms, and then she sprouted wings like those of a large bird, or an angel. Her face changed subtly, feathers sprouted in her hair, and then she flapped those large wings and flew. Rayne looked on, awestruck. The Arndell brothers stared. Everyone in the camp stared in awe, until the queen was so far away they could no longer see her.
“How very odd she is,” Trystan said softly.
“Yeah, but not at all bad looking,” Devlyn said. “I wouldn’t kick her out of my bed if I happened to find her there.”
Trystan sighed. “If her consort hears you say that, he will tear you apart and I will not lift a finger to stop him.”
“Thanks, brother. It was just an observation. It’s not as if I’m likely to find a queen in my bed. Shit, I don’t even have a proper bed these days, thanks to you. How did I ever let you talk me into enlisting in this army?”
“You were drunk,” Trystan responded.
“So I was.”
Devlyn turned to Rayne. “How exactly are you so very special?” The question might’ve been a sarcastic and hurtful one, but his smile was sincere.
Rayne was not yet ready to introduce herself as an Earth Goddess, so she said, “I’m a very good gardener.”
Instead of being put off by her answer, Devlyn said, “Excellent! I’d much prefer to stand guard over a pretty gardener than to clash swords against those nasty Ciro’s Own fellows. They do not fight fairly.”
“Neither do you,” Trystan said as he joined them.
Devlyn studied Rayne’s too-short hair with interest. “I knew a woman once who wore her hair just so.”
“Really? On purpose?”
“Yes, very much on purpose. She would adorn her short locks with brightly colored flowers or jeweled clips, and it was ever so much easier to get to her neck.” Devlyn leaned in as if he intended to demonstrate.
“Forgive my brother,” Trystan said as he elbowed Devlyn aside. “He knows no boundaries and possesses no manners at all.”
“We’re twins, you know,” Devlyn said, crossing his arms in a casual pose and ignoring her exposed neck.
“I never would’ve guessed,” Rayne said. Though they did look somewhat alike, they were definitely not mirror images of one another. “Which one of you is older?”
“Dammit, Arndell!” General Merin’s voice was sharp, and both Arndells turned to his call. Even Devlyn’s spine straightened. “What the hell are you doing here? A small contingent of Ciro’s Own has been spotted a short distance away, and we’re riding out in minutes. I should not have to search the camp for those soldiers who are supposed to be ready to fight!”
“The Anwyn Queen ordered us not to leave M’lady Rayne’s side until she returns, sir,” Trystan explained.
Devlyn added a simple, “Yep. That’s why we’re here.”
Merin sighed. “I have learned not to question that one. We’ll miss your swords, but this will likely not be our fiercest fight.” He glanced over his shoulder and smiled. It was the first time Rayne had ever seen his face in such a state. “They’re not moving toward us in an organized fashion, they’re running away.”
They were running away because Ciro was dead. Rayne knew that but she wasn’t sure how much Keelia had shared with the others before she’d flown off like a huge, graceful bird. Feeling it was not her secret to share, Rayne excused herself and said she wished to lie down in her tent. The brothers followed her, and as she entered the small tent which had become home for now, they settled themselves at the exit.
Rayne did lie down but she couldn’t sleep. Her mind was spinning, and not all of her thoughts concerned her future at the moment. Why had Keelia asked those two to guard her? She wasn’t even sure a guard was necessary, and if it was, then any soldier should do. Why them, and why had her eyes lit up so as she’d called for them? The brothers’ voices drifted to her.
“I wouldn’t kick M’lady Rayne out of my bed, if I had a bed,” Devlyn said.
“Is there any woman alive you would kick out of your bed?” Trystan’s voice was sharp.
“Of course. I can be somewhat discriminating. She has great tits, don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”
In the privacy of her tent, Rayne’s face grew warm. Trystan was right; his brother knew no boundaries!
“Keep your voice down,” Trystan insisted. “Someone might hear you.”
“I don’t care.”
“That’s your problem,” Trystan said sharply. “You don’t care about anything or anyone.”
“You care too much,” Devlyn countered.
Rayne shut her ears to the brothers’ bantering and thought about Lyr. He was well, Keelia had said. For now nothing mattered but that. He had succeeded, he had won, he had fulfilled his prophesy.
Now what? She didn’t know what the future held and Keelia insisted that she didn’t need to know. Her initial reaction to that refusal had been anger, but in the weeks since Lyr had led her away from home, she’d learned to enjoy what each day brought. Love had been a surprise, as it should be. What was to happen next was also yet to be written.
Rayne closed her eyes, feeling safe with the odd Arndell brothers at her door. Keelia had been right about something else. She did know that Lyr loved her.
***
The palace was more empty than not, as Ciro’s servants had fled. Without the demon, they were cowards. Lyr was more than ready to return to the camp where he’d left Rayne waiting, but before he could depart, it was necessary that the new emperor and empress be settled in safely, with sufficient guards to prevent any attacks by dark soldiers who weren’t content to flee. Sentinels had been called, but they were not yet at their posts.
He could do nothing but wait. Wait and watch and listen, as his cousin and her husband tried to make sense of their new situation.
“This is ridiculous,” Sian muttered. Thanks to Ariana’s enhanced healing powers, he was fully recovered from his ordeal. “For months I’ve managed to fight on my own, and now that I’m fucking emperor, I need an army of sentinels to stand between me and the rest of the world?”
“That language isn’t befitting the new ruler of the country,” Ariana said calmly.
Sian cast his wife a sharp glance. “You’re enjoying this.”
“I am n
ot.”
“Where are your mother and her blasted sisters?” Sian threw up a disgusted hand. “Where are those damn twins?”
“If they can’t find Liane and the boys...”Ariana began.
“Then I’m it.” Disgusted, Sian plopped down in the biggest chair in this room in which he’d been pacing. The throne.
Ariana sat on his knee. “Whatever happens is meant to happen. Sebestyen’s sons will be found or they won’t. You will be emperor for many years or you won’t. Whatever happens, I will be with you.” She took his hand and led it to her stomach. “We will be with you.”
Ariana had not said a word to Lyr about a baby, but it was now clear that she was carrying one. Smart woman. If she had revealed her condition to Lyr, he would’ve tied her up and left her behind—empress or not.
Sian stilled immediately as he contemplated his wife’s belly. “I don’t want my son to grow up like Ciro.”
“No matter where we are, whether we’re here or at your home or in another home we make for ourselves, he won’t. I promise.”
The guards Lyr had been waiting for finally arrived, and he said a quick good-bye. He’d told Rayne to run if he didn’t return in four days, which meant he had a day and a half to get to her before she fled the camp. The countryside still wasn’t safe for a woman alone. Too many of Ciro’s Own survived.
Not for long.
***
Rayne did not plan to run anywhere, even though Lyr had told her to do so. Thanks to Keelia, she knew he’d been successful and there was no reason to hide from Ciro or those who would kill her to keep her from bearing his son. Still, as morning and the deadline approached, she could not sleep. If Lyr could be here, he would.
She could not help but remember that while Ciro was dead, his Own lived on, though their number was less every day, and they were no longer fighting in an organized effort but in small and ineffective pockets of resistance. Would Lyr be so intent on reaching her that he’d allow his vigilance to slip and fall into a trap?
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