Light and Darkness: The Complete Series: Epic Fantasy Romance

by Jayne Castel

  Not for the first time, Lilia wondered at the bird—was it a familiar of some sort? She’d heard that some enchanters did indeed bond with animals and birds.

  Thrindul glanced up, his gaze spearing Lilia’s.

  “We have a closed council now,” he informed her, “and will be busy for the rest of the morning. I shall have you escorted back to your chamber.”

  Lilia tensed. She had no wish to return to her cell, where she’d be alone to worry about her fate.

  “I wish to take a look around the House?” she replied. “Is that allowed?”

  Asher, who had just gotten to his feet next to the High Enchanter, favored her with a tight smile. “Don’t see why not. There’s plenty to see here. Make sure you visit the garden room.”

  Thrindul gave the enchanter a quelling look before shifting his attention back to Lilia. “A tour is permitted,” he said coolly, “but you will return to your chamber afterward, where you will stay until the noon meal.”

  Without another word Thrindul stepped down from the dais and strode away, carrying his white hawk aloft. Irana and Asher followed. Brand cast Lilia a lingering look that made her spine stiffen, before he too left the feasting hall.

  “I think I’ll join you on this tour,” Saul announced, rising to his feet. He wore an inscrutable expression. Lilia wondered if he was pleased or annoyed that Thrindul was throwing him out tomorrow. It didn’t matter to her—she just wanted him gone.

  “No one invited you,” Dain snarled.

  Saul grinned at him. “Nor you.”

  Lilia cast Saul a sour look. “Suit yourself,” she snapped. “Just keep out of my way.”

  Her guards stood waiting for Lilia at the foot of the dais. They circled Lilia as she exited the hall, Saul and Dain behind her.

  The four enchanters took them through the first floor of the House first, through the huge kitchens at the rear of the building, the store rooms, and the library, which took up one corner of the first floor. The library was a musty, damp space that had a forgotten, slightly melancholy air to it.

  At the foot of the stairwell that led up to the second level, Lilia spotted a set of stone stairs that descended into the basement. She turned to the enchanter nearest, a young man with a solemn face. “Where do they lead?”

  “The Vault,” he replied tersely.

  Lilia tensed. Ryana was locked up somewhere down there. Behind her, Dain and Saul didn’t comment, although when she shifted her gaze to them, she saw both of them observing the stairs.

  “Keep moving,” the enchanter ordered, scowling. He then motioned to the stairwell. “This way.”

  28

  The Garden Room

  THEY CLIMBED THE circular stairwell in the center of the building to the second floor. This was the level where the accommodation was housed, so there was little to see—except for a colonnaded portico that faced south. Decorated with pot plants and low stone seats, it looked like the sort of place one came for reflection. In warmer weather it would have been pleasant, but this afternoon a fine drizzle drifted down from a helmet of grey, and a dank breeze made the air feel clammy and chill. They didn’t linger.

  Up on the third—and top—floor, the ceilings were higher, the corridors wider. The Council Chamber was located here, as were the High Enchanter’s lodgings. Thrindul and his council were currently meeting, and Lilia could hear the muffled rise and fall of their voices through the thick stone.

  A chill swept over Lilia. They would be discussing her fate.

  She didn’t need to eavesdrop to know what they’d decide. They’d take the stone from her by force, and then they’d kill her.

  Lilia glanced over her shoulder at Dain, and their gazes fused. His eyes were shadowed, his expression tense. He too could hear the enchanters talking. She hoped he had a plan for getting them out of here—for she couldn’t see a way out of this building.

  Her breathing quickened. He needed to come up with something soon. Time was running out.

  The enchanters took them into a long hall lined with life-sized marble statues.

  Walking along the column, Lilia examined the statues’ faces. They were a haughty-looking assembly, all dressed in High Enchanter robes—presumably Thrindul’s predecessors.

  Eventually, they reached the end of the column, and Lilia turned her attention to where two massive oaken doors stood ajar.

  The garden room.

  She caught a glimpse of lush greenery through the gap in the doors, and could smell rich, peaty earth and wet foliage. Lilia cast another glance back over her shoulder at where Saul and Dain trailed behind. Saul wore a bored expression, whereas Dain was frowning.

  Lilia and her guard had nearly reached the doors, when a sound behind them made her halt.

  The meaty slap of flesh colliding, followed by a startled grunt.

  Lilia swiveled around, to see that Saul had just chopped Dain across the throat with the side of his hand. Dain collapsed on the flagstone floor and grasped his neck, choking.

  Saul bounded forward, moving so fast that Lilia and the enchanters had no time to react. He whipped out two knives from inside his leather jerkin. Lilia thought the enchanters had confiscated his arsenal of blades upon arrival, but he’d somehow managed to get his hands on more.

  He slashed an enchanter across the throat with one, and then stabbed another in the belly with the other. Spinning round, he plunged the blades into the chests of the remaining two men flanking Lilia.

  Cries and grunts filled the hall as the enchanters fell to their knees, cradling their injuries.

  Lilia stumbled back, toward the garden room. Saul shoved her hard, and the doors flew open. She tripped, fell, and skidded across the polished floor, coming to rest against one of the large columns that held up the roof.

  Behind her, Saul hauled the heavy oaken doors shut and threw the iron bolt, locking them both inside.

  Dazed, Lilia rolled onto her side and pushed herself up against the column, grappling at its smooth surface for purchase. Her left arm and flank hurt from where she'd hit the hard floor. But she ignored the pain; her gaze was riveted upon Saul, who now blocked the only way out.

  She struggled to her feet; dimly aware of standing in a great colonnaded space with a vaulted ceiling and arched open windows, and of the wall of greenery surrounding her. Like the Council Chamber, the garden room’s great arched windows were open to the elements, bringing in a damp breeze. The only noise was the gentle patter of rain on the tiled roof above their head.

  She could hear groans and cries coming from the hall of statues outside.

  Dain.

  Saul was watching her now, and the look on his face caused her legs to tremble. Gone was the cultivated air of boredom. The mask had slipped, and the man before Lilia watched her with cold dispassion.

  “I've waited too long for this,” he drawled.

  Lilia didn't take her gaze off him as she leaned against the chill column at her back. One hand went to The King Breaker around her neck, her fist closing over it. She wished she still had the knife Dain had given her in Idriss. However, they’d taken it off her the night before.

  “I won't give it to you,” she gasped.

  A fierce wave of protectiveness crashed over her. Lilia kept her gaze riveted upon Saul, waiting for him to come for her. Fear pulsed through her, and as it did, so did a familiar warmth.

  Saul slowly advanced, unarmed now for it appeared he’d used both his blades to fell the enchanters and had no more. He moved with fluid grace, stalking her.

  Heat pulsed through Lilia, in time with the beating of her heart, and then her skin started to crawl.

  For once, Lilia didn’t fight it.

  “I thought this would be easy,” he said, “but fate has been messing with me since the day I set eyes on that stone. I planned to take it from you the moment we left Idriss, but then suddenly it was a fight for survival … and those two never left you alone, not even for a moment.” Saul gave her a predatory smile. “And now we're here
… and I'm running out of chances. It's time we ended this game.”

  Lilia's breath hitched in her throat. “Get away from me,” she rasped.

  Saul laughed. A heartbeat later he leaped forward, grabbed her wrists, and pinned her up against the column—their bodies pressed together.

  “It’s a pity you’re a shifter,” he murmured in her ear. “I had plans for you.”

  In response, Lilia kicked him hard in the shins.

  Saul hissed in pain. Lilia brought up her knee sharply, aiming for his cods, but he moved out of reach. With one hand he clasped Lilia about the neck, choking her as he pinned her against the column; while with the other he reached down the front of her shirt for The King Breaker.

  Desperation surged within Lilia. She struggled against him wildly, uncaring of whether he hurt her or not. She couldn’t let him take it—couldn’t part with it.

  And then she shifted.

  Her clothing fell away, her body morphed, and the garden room grew in size, turning into a vast space that dwarfed her.

  With a snarl, Lilia sunk her teeth into his left wrist—the one that reached for stone.

  Saul roared.

  His right fist shot out, catching her across the head and sending her flying backward. Lilia bounced back against the column before landing on all fours. With a howl, she flew at Saul again.

  She savaged the same arm, ripping into the flesh. The warm metallic tang of blood filled her mouth, and she bit down.

  Saul tried to shake her off, tried to claw at her face with his free hand, but she clung on, her strong jaws clamping down harder still. In this form she was wild, feral, and lightning fast.

  Eventually, she released her grip on him.

  Saul staggered sideways, blood pouring from his damaged wrist. Panting, he leaned against the wide stone window ledge. He hunched, cradling his arm and trying to stem the flow of blood.

  “Fiend,” he snarled at Lilia. “This isn’t over … I’m not done with you.”

  Then without another word, he vaulted over the window ledge and disappeared from sight.

  Lilia bounded forward and leaped up onto the ledge. Bright blood splattered the pale stone. Saul had landed like a squirrel on the tiled roof around ten feet below. It was the roof of the Hall of Healing, two levels under them.

  Lilia gaped, watching him roll and right himself. It was an incredible drop, especially injured, but Saul made it look easy. Half a dozen strides took him to the edge of the slate roof. Then he slipped over the side and vanished.

  Crouched on the window ledge, Lilia wondered whether she should go after him.

  But then, behind her, someone started banging on the door.

  29

  Stand Down

  THE DOORS SLAMMED back against the wall with a force that caused the room to shake.

  Dain burst into the chamber. Staggering slightly, one hand grasping his injured throat, his gaze swept the space.

  A small russet-colored vixen perched on the window ledge, watching him. It wore a pendant about its neck.

  Behind Dain, enchanters entered the garden room. The air crackled with danger as he felt them gather the Light and the Dark, ready to do battle.

  The fox jumped lightly off the ledge, and an instant later it transformed. It grew tall, changing from a quadruped to a biped. The thick red pelt and long bushy tail disappeared, replaced with smooth pale flesh.

  Dain blinked as Lilia stood before him, stark naked except for the stone hanging around her neck.

  He stared, momentarily forgetting that his throat throbbed and that he could hardly breathe after the blow Saul had dealt him.

  Lilia was beautiful, her body both lush and lithe. His gaze slid from her full pink-tipped breasts to the soft auburn hair between her thighs.

  Shadows.

  Thrindul strode forward, shouldering Dain aside. “What happened here?”

  Lilia wiped away the blood that dripped from her mouth with the back of her hand. “Saul attacked me … tried to take the stone,” she murmured, a rasp to her voice. “I bit him, and he jumped out the window. He scaled the roof-top like a spider.”

  Dain moved forward, retrieving Lilia’s clothing from where it sat piled at the base of a column. He passed the garments to her, and she clutched them to her breasts, shivering now.

  “Are you hurt?” he rasped, barely able to get the words out.

  Lilia shook her head, before her brown eyes clouded. “Your throat?”

  “It’s alright … I’ll live.”

  Dain’s gaze went then to The King Breaker about Lilia’s neck. Despite the dull, rainy day, its milky surface swirled and shimmered as he gazed upon it.

  Brand emerged from behind Thrindul, crossing the room to the blood-stained window-sill, where he peered outside.

  “You fought him off?” Brand’s voice was incredulous.

  “Aye.”

  “Enough of this.” Irana had elbowed her way forward so that she stood next to Thrindul.

  Glancing back at her, Dain saw that Asher also flanked the High Enchanter. Asher’s gaze was wide, his face stunned. Like Dain and the others he’d just witnessed Lilia shift.

  “The girl can’t keep The King Breaker,” Irana continued, her voice sharp, her gaze blazing. “She could shift at any moment and rob us of it.”

  Lilia’s face paled. “I told you … I only wish to keep the stone safe.”

  “You expect us to believe a shifter?” Irana challenged. She stepped forward, sweeping her right hand before her. The shadows in the recesses of the room reared up with a roar as if they were sleeping beasts that had just been awakened.

  Panic exploded in Dain’s chest.

  The enchanter was going to kill Lilia.

  Still grasping his throat with one hand, he lunged forward, placing himself between the two women.

  Irana snarled, and Dain felt the air move. Menace closed in around them. Dain tensed. He couldn’t stop this, couldn’t protect Lilia. Irana would slay them both.

  “Stand down!” Asher stepped up beside Dain, meeting Irana’s battle stance with his own. A bolus of pale light glowed on his outstretched palm. It pulsed, as if in warning.

  Irana ignored him, taking another, threatening, step forward. “Don’t interfere,” she growled. “The shifter must die.”

  “You don’t command me, Irana.”

  “Move aside.”

  “No.”

  “Stand down … both of you!” Thrindul’s voice boomed across the garden room. And when neither enchanter moved it turned thunderous. “Now!”

  Irana glanced over her shoulder at the High Enchanter, her gaze narrowing. “Thrindul … this is the only way.”

  Thrindul’s mouth flattened into a thin line. “You take much upon yourself. I will decide what happens to the shifter.”

  “But, you—”

  “Silence!” Thrindul’s dark eyes flashed dangerously. The hawk crouched upon his shoulder gave an ear-splitting screech. “Move away from the girl.”

  A nerve flickered under Irana’s eye, but this time she did as bid. Likewise, Asher let his hand lower. Cautiously, he stepped to one side.

  Dain didn’t move. Despite that Asher had come to their aid, he didn’t trust any of these enchanters—least of all the scheming High Enchanter.

  Thrindul stared at Lilia now, his expression shuttered. “I wanted to keep you here for a few days … to study you,” he said finally, “but you’re too dangerous, too unpredictable. The time has come for us to hand you and the stone over to the king.”

  Next to the High Enchanter, Irana’s body uncoiled. She folded her arms across her chest and flashed Asher a hard victory smile. “Shall we take her there now?”

  Thrindul shook his head. “Since Veldoras fell, Nathan’s been busy with his war council. I will request an audience with him for first thing tomorrow.”

  Relief filtered through Dain at these words. They had a reprieve, albeit a short one. He still had time to get Lilia out of here. He just had no idea
how.

  Irana pursed her lips at this, yet held her tongue.

  Scowling, the High Enchanter shifted his attention to where Brand still stood by the window. “Gather a new escort and take the girl back to her chamber,” he ordered sharply. “She’s to remain there, locked up, till tomorrow morning.”

  Asher took the stairs down to the Vault. He descended slowly, careful on the mossy steps, holding an oil-lamp aloft to light his way.

  The air was cold down here and smelt musty and damp, the odor of a space that never saw sunlight. Asher rarely ventured down into the Vault—until Ryana they’d kept no prisoners here, and the few chambers housing items of value were locked tight. Only Thrindul held the key.

  Asher’s boots scraped on damp stone as he reached the bottom of the stairs and made his way along a hallway. The passage had been crudely constructed; hewn out of the rock beneath the building above, the rooms lining it were little more than alcoves.

  There were no guards here. Servants brought meals down for the prisoner a few times a day, and were escorted by enchanters when they had to empty the chamber pot, but the rest of the time, Ryana sat alone in her cell.

  The largest alcove, the cell sat at the far end of the hallway. The light of the two cressets burning on the walls illuminated the wet stone.

  It wasn’t a healthy place for a prisoner. The air was too damp. If Ryana remained down here, she would eventually develop lung problems.

  Stopping before her cell, Asher lifted his lamp to light up the cramped space within.

  Ryana sat upon a stone ledge, dressed as he’d last seen her in hunting leathers, her travel-stained cloak wrapped around her for warmth. Her thick blonde hair hung in lifeless hanks around her pale face; her steel-blue eyes were haunted.

  She looked at him, blinking owl-like in the flare of light from his lantern.

  “Asher?” she croaked. “Is that you?”