The Shadow Queen

out the magic that has been used here.”

With a flourish of his white cape Lothair disappeared into the shadows.

Kaliq sat down at a large wooden table he used as a desk. Leaning back, he closed his blue eyes, and began to consider the possibilities. Who would have had the power to transport a mortal girl from one realm to another using the Dream Plain? No faerie from any of the kingdoms would have taken Ilona’s granddaughter. The Queen of the Forest Faeries was not a being to be trifled with under any circumstances. The giants were not clever enough, and besides, Lara had no quarrel with any among them. Who then was responsible for this mischief? It came to him suddenly!

Only a Darkling could do what had been done, but Darklings were few and usually kept to the Dark Lands where they were under the control of the Twilight Lord. But Kol, the Twilight Lord, was imprisoned for his crimes against Hetar, Terah and Lara herself. And the twin sons Lara had borne him were hidden away by the factions that had grown up about them and now fought an endless civil war over which of these two young men would rule in his father’s place. They would be fifteen now, Kaliq realized, surprised. The time had gone much too quickly. He should have been looking toward that realm. The darkness was obviously beginning to rear its head again.

Kaliq reached out, saying the words of a spell as he did. “Darkling, Darkling, come to me. Though you would rather hidden be. A Shadow Prince calls you his way, and you cannot help but obey.” He felt the creature struggling to evade him. “Appear or suffer my wrath!” Kaliq said harshly. “Now!”

There was a small flash, and a beautiful woman appeared before him. “My lord Prince,” she said in a smoky voice, and she swept him a mock bow. Her hair was as black as a moonless night. Her eyes were purple, and her skin milky-white. She was tall and slender. “What is it you want of me?” she said.

“Tell me your name,” Kaliq answered.

The Darkling laughed. “If I tell you my name you will have power over me.”

“I already have power over you,” he said, “so tell me your name, Darkling.”

“Why have you called me to you?” she countered.

“Your name, or shall I drag it from you,” Kaliq replied.

“I had heard that you were masterful, my lord Prince,” she taunted him. “How will you impel me to reveal what I choose not to reveal? Will you impale me upon your great lance forcing me to pleasures?” Her smile was wicked, and her breasts swelled just slightly over the low neckline of her violet silk gown.

“You are beautiful, and I should certainly enjoy sharing pleasures with you, but I never make love to a woman I cannot address by name,” he told her, amused at her blatant attempt to seduce him.

The Darkling stamped her foot. “You mock me!” she cried out. “Yet I am worthy of your respect, for I can cause such havoc in Hetar and in Terah as has never been seen.”

“Why would you do that?” he inquired of her.

“Because I can!” she responded childishly.

She was young, he realized then. “Tell me your name, Darkling,” he said with a small smile. “You know mine.”

Now the Darkling smiled an arch almost coquettish smile at him. “My name is Ciarda,” she said. Then she clapped her hand over her mouth. “I did not mean to say it!”

“I told you I should have your name from you,” Kaliq told her.

“How did you do it?” she wanted to know. “I should like to learn how to do such a thing.”

“You are too young for such knowledge,” Kaliq told her. “But tell me, Ciarda, why did you bring the Princess Zagiri to Hetar?”

“Because the Lord High Ruler wanted her,” Ciarda responded. “The Hierarch is coming soon, and the Terahn girl will be necessary to help him keep his place as ruler.”

“Indeed,” Kaliq remarked dryly. “Your powers are great for one so young.”

“I have been given the loan of all my sisters’ powers,” Ciarda said, proudly tossing her head so that her long ebony hair moved gracefully.

She was lying, and he knew it, Kaliq thought. “Why do you seek to harm Hetar?” he asked her.

“I shall not tell you why, my lord Prince,” Ciarda said, and then she disappeared.

Kaliq cursed softly. He had underestimated Ciarda because he had believed her both young and naive. Her beauty had misled him. What in the name of Limbo was the matter with him? It was not like him to reveal his thoughts so easily. He might force her back to him, but she was prepared to resist him now, and he had lost the advantage. He was letting his passion for Lara weaken him, and he didn’t like it. And he knew Lara would not have liked it, either. She would scold him for behaving like a boy, Kaliq thought with a small smile. And she would be right.

If he was to aid Lara then he had to pull himself together. He needed all of his strength and his powers to be of use. Allowing emotions to cloud his judgment and to weaken him was unlike a Shadow Prince. But the death of Magnus Hauk had allowed him to dream once again of having the faerie woman all to himself for eternity yet he had never thought such a thing possible. Indeed he believed it an impossible situation.

“Brother!” Lothair was once again in his presence. “I have found the source for the legend of the Hierarch. On her deathbed, Ulla, who had been Usi the sorcerer’s concubine, the one who bore the daughter from whom Vilia Ahasferus descended, is said to have spoken these words. ‘There will come a time in the future when Hetar grows weak and loses its path. When that time comes a leader will arise to bring Hetar back into the way of righteousness. He will be called the Hierarch.’ I stood by Ulla’s bed as she spoke these words,” Lothair told Kaliq.

“Was Ulla known to be clairvoyant? Or was this some mischief of Usi’s?” Kaliq wondered aloud. “And Vilia was descended from Ulla’s daughter, and the chosen one in her generation. Still she loved Jonah, and would have done nothing to harm him.”

“Perhaps she was threatened,” Lothair said thoughtfully. “She was happy with both her husband and the son she bore Jonah. The only thing that irritated her was that despite the strides the women of Hetar have made Jonah would not give her the title of consort. What if some dark being wished to bring Jonah down so that the Hierarch could arise, and take power here in Hetar? Despite her bloodline Vilia was not truly touched by the darkness. She was greedy and ambitious, it is true, but she was loyal to those loyal to her. If she was approached to help destroy her husband she would have refused. So they reached out to harm her son in an effort to force her to their will.”

“But instead Vilia warned Jonah of what was coming, and chose an important bride for him that his stature be increased among the people of Hetar.” Kaliq took up the thread of Lothair’s idea. “And then using her own small powers healed her child with her own life force. I must admit to admiring such a bold tactic. It was both clever and brave.”

“Still,” Lothair said, “it was the Darkling who brought Zagiri across the Dream Plain. If the Darkling is the one who threatened Vilia in the first place why would she help her? There is more to this, brother.”

“The Darkling’s name is Ciarda,” Kaliq said.

“The word itself means dark,” Lothair remarked. “Is she beautiful?”

“Very,” Kaliq replied. “I should have enjoyed taking pleasures with her but that she is an enemy. Her aura is violet, and it shimmers around her. She told me that her sisters had given her their powers, and then she was gone.” He sighed. “I need to know more of this creature. I can scent wickedness in the very air, Lothair. It has penetrated even here to Shunnar. Gather those of our brothers who are strongest now, and go forth to seek any who would call himself the Hierarch. It is not like us to be caught off guard. Something evil is brewing, and I would know what it is.”

“Agreed,” Lothair said. Then he was gone from Kaliq’s presence.

The great Shadow Prince sat for some time considering his next move. He could sense that this was the most dangerous game he had played in some time. He drew his cloak tightly about him and in the silent language of magic he spoke the spell. Take me to where the Darkling lies. Reveal me not before her eyes. He found himself in a small room. Ciarda sat brushing her long dark hair. Her beautiful coloring reminded him of Lara’s youngest daughter, Marzina. And suddenly Kaliq knew. Ciarda was either a daughter or a sister of Kol, the imprisoned Twilight Lord.

Ciarda laid the hairbrush aside. She shrugged her diaphanous lavender robe aside, and said aloud, “Rolf, Rolf, hear my plea. Cease all else, and come to me.”