debts.”
In the enormous chamber where the Dark Throne resided, Ladvarian trembled as he looked at Lorn. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Lorn-at least, not usually. It was just that Lorn was the Prince of the Dragons, the legendary race who had created the Blood. Lorn was very,
And then there was Draca, the Keep’s Seneschal, who had been Lorn’s mate and the Dragon Queen before she had sacrificed her true form in order to give other creatures the Craft.
Sacrifices. No, he would
But being summoned here by Lorn and Draca when the Arachnian Queen was so close to finishing that special web of dreams … It frightened him. If they forbade the kindred from doing this… The kindred would do it anyway, whatever the cost.
Little Brother, Lorn said in his deep, quiet, thundering voice.
Prince Lorn. Ladvarian was trembling enough for them to see it.
I have a gift for you, little Brother. Give thiss to the Weaver of Dreamss.
A flat, beautifully carved box appeared in the air before Ladvarian. When it opened, he saw a simply designed pendant made of white and yellow gold and an equally simple ring. But it was the Jewel in those pieces that made his hackles rise and his ears flatten tight to his head.
It had no color, and yet it wasn’t colorless. Restless, it shimmered, hungry to complete its transformation. It tugged at him, seeking a bond with his mind.
He took a step back. As he looked up at Lorn, angry and confused enough to issue a challenge that would have been foolish as well as futile, he realized Lorn’s scales had that same translucent shimmer. Knowledge crashed in on him. He took another step back and whined.
Do not fear, little Brother. It iss a gift. The Weaver will need it for her web.
Gathering his courage, Ladvarian approached the box. I have never seen a Jewel like this.
And you never will again, Lorn replied gently. There will never be another one like it.
Still cautious, Ladvarian said, It has no rank. It does not know what it is.
It doess not yet know what it iss, Lorn agreed. But it doess have a name: Twilight’ss Dawn.
When Ladvarian was on his way back to Arachna with the box, Draca and Lorn stared at each other.
”You rissk much giving him a Jewel like that,” Draca said.
There iss reasson to rissk much, Lorn replied. Witch hass almosst completed her web?
”Yess.” For the first time since she had met Jaenelle, she felt the weight of her years.
We cannot heal the taint, Draca, Lorn said softly. Sshe can.
”I know. When I gave the gift of magic, I gave it freely, knowing I could never alter what wass done with it.” Draca hesitated. ”If sshe doess thiss, sshe will be desstroyed.”
Sshe iss Kaeleer’ss Heart. Sshe musst not be desstroyed. Lorn paused and added softly, The kindred have alwayss been sstrong dreamerss.
”Will they be sstrong enough?”
The question neither could answer hung between them.
A stealthy movement and the sudden glow of a small ball of witchlight woke Jorval from an uneasy sleep. ”Priestess?”
A hand grabbed his hair, yanked his head up. ”No,” said the silver-haired woman as her knife cut his throat. ”I am vengeance.”
”Enough,” Daemon said, leading Jaenelle into her sitting room. ”You need to rest.”
”The web’s almost complete. I need to-”
Daemon wanted to rage at her but knew it wouldn’t do any good. She had dropped weight she couldn’t afford to lose at a frightening speed. Putting obstacles in her path would only force her to waste energy she couldn’t spare, so he took the other path.
”You told me a few minutes ago that you still needed a couple of things to complete the web.”
”Those things will take time,” she protested.
He bent down and kissed her softly, persuasively. When he felt her yield, he murmured against her lips, ”We’ll have a quiet dinner. Then we’ll play a couple of hands of ’cradle.’ I’ll even let you win.”
Her huff of laughter provoked another hunger. His kiss deepened as his hand caressed her breast.
”I think I am hungry,” Jaenelle said breathlessly when he finally gave her a chance to speak.
After they had thoroughly satisfied one hunger, they finally sat down to dinner.
Pain woke him.
Kartane opened his eyes. Two fading balls of witchlight provided enough light for him to clearly see that he was outside. Then he realized he was upside down.
Something rustled the bushes nearby.
Turning his head a little, he stared at an odd pile of brown clothing, neatly folded.
Suddenly, his heart pounded. Suddenly, it was hard to breathe.
The surrounding shadows shifted just enough for him to see that the odd pile wasn’t clothing, it was brown skin.
As he drew in a breath to scream, glowing red eyes appeared in the darkness around him.
Even with her head under the water, Surreal heard Kartane scream.
She popped up out of the water, then immediately lowered herself to her neck. The pool, fed by a hot spring, was delightfully warm, but the air was cool enough to bite.
She heard snarls, a howl, a terrified shriek.
The air wasn’t the only thing around there that had a bite.
”So this is Hell,” she said, looking around. It was too dark to see much, but the area around the pool had a kind of stark beauty.
”This is Hell,” Titian replied, a blissful smile on her face. She straightened up and gave Surreal a searching look. ”Has the debt been paid to your satisfaction, Surreal?”
The snarls and shrieks stopped for a moment, then started again.
”Yes,” Surreal said, leaning back with a sigh, ”I’m satisfied.”
”Sometimes the heart reveals more than panes of glass can.”
