Prince of Fire (35 page)

Sian placed his hand on her shoulders gently. 'Tomorrow will always be uncertain, love. Always."

She knew he was right, and still something inside her wanted to hold back. "Yes, but when we say vows, I should be wearing a pretty gown, not a sloppily altered sentinel's uniform. I should carry flowers, not a sword. I want our wedding to be perfect, Sian."

His face remained hard, but his eyes softened. The purple there danced with emotion and love. "No matter where we are or what you wear, it
will
be perfect." He waved his hand and bathed her in enchanted purple light. Suddenly her uniform appeared to be a pretty blue dress, and the sword that hung at her side looked like a bouquet of spring flowers.

But it wasn't real, and she knew it too well. All she did was lift her hand in silent protest, and Sian instantly made the enchantment go away.

"Do you love me?" he asked, only a little frustrated.

"I do. You know I do."

"Did you mean it when you said that every time we love or laugh in spite of fear, the demon we're battling grows a little weaker?"

"Yes."

"Then why not now? While your parents are here and we're surrounded by men who love you and call you sister, why not
now?"

Ariana had been waiting for the perfect moment to arrive, and it struck her that in spite of her fancies of flowers and silk, perhaps this was it. Her parents were here, and so were many friends. Tomorrow might be uncertain, but tonight all was well.

They gathered near the fire, Sian in dusty black and Ariana in battered green. She did not allow him to make the scene prettier for her or for others. No, she wanted , reality in her wedding. Not flowers, not contrived beauty, but the reality of love and commitment. Her parents and her friends, her brothers in mis war, were present. They loved her, and in the predawn hours of yet another uncertain day, she said the words that made Sian Sayre Chamblyn her husband in that one, final way.

When the final words were spoken, a shout went up. Men who had been solemn of late laughed heartily. Ariana's mother cried, but the tears she shed were tears of joy. Her father shook Sian's hand, which was an improvement over wrestling him into the dirt for boldly and truthfully answering his question and revealing the nature of his relationship with an overly protected eldest daughter.

In the midst of it all, Ariana realized that Sian had been right to remind her of the words she'd spoken when they'd been waiting for Keelia in the palace of the Anwyn Queen. The Isen Demon that infected this land fed on fear, and it trembled and weakened at the growth and declaration of true love.

17

They ran most of the night, stopping only for water and very short periods of rest. Joryn had never thought to follow
anyone
while embracing the body and power of a cat, but he followed the red wolf up the mountain path without a moment's hesitation.

Beneath the large and brilliant moon, through feline eyes all was gray. All but Keelia. She had burnished red fur and golden eyes. She was bright and powerful, as if he saw her with another part of himself than with eyes alone.

She was his. His Queen, his lover. His mate.

They raced up the mountain, but they weren't quick enough to reach camp before the sun rose. Joryn felt his body begin to change, and he had no choice but to stop and allow the natural progression of transformation to claim him. Muscles contracted and reformed. Fur retracted. Color bloomed all around, as his human eyes took the place of those of a cat. There were a few brief moments of minor pain, as always, and his progress up the mountain was halted.

Keelia did not stop, nor did she begin the change into her human form. She remained wolf, with a wolf's speed and agility to help her to her destination.

A man once again, Joryn had no choice but to run on two seemingly inefficient feet. Still, his years on this mountain had acclimated him to the steep and rocky trails, and he continued on without a misstep, even when the red wolf he followed disappeared around a bend. On the other side of die bend was the camp where they'd left the others.

Maccus might've attacked in the night, taking the others by surprise ... but Joryn didn't think so. It was possible that, like Joryn, Maccus had to be in human form to call upon his magic. He would want use of that power when confronting superior numbers.

The sun was rising, which meant that Maccus was a man once more.

And Keelia was completely out of Joryn's sight.

* * * * *

Keelia realized the precise moment when the others would change; she felt it as they did—and
not
as they did. As always, she felt the call for change but was not commanded by it. She did not shift, nor did she pause at that important moment. Thanks to her gifts, she easily maintained the body of a wolf as she rushed toward the site where she'd left her parents and Druson last night. She knew what Maccus was capable of, and there was no time to slow down, not even when Joryn fell behind.

She startled them all, leaping into the peaceful campsite as her mother, father, and a mumbling Druson were getting dressed in simple traveling clothes, after passing the night in their animal bodies. They were all well, seemingly. But then, she supposed she herself had
seemed
well enough while under the wizard's spell.

Then her mother smiled, recognizing her daughter as a familiar red wolf, and Keelia knew all truly was well. That smile was not touched by dark magic, not in the least. She shifted into her human body easily and quickly, startling Druson. The Caradon was accustomed to the change taking much longer than the blink of an eye.

"Maccus lives," Keelia said abruptly. "He's still a danger to all of us."

"I told you ..." Druson began.

Juliet's smile died. "How do you know this?" She directed her question to Keelia, ignoring the Grandfather. "And what happened when you fell? Keelia, I have so many questions, I don't know where to begin."

"Begin with clothing," Keelia's father said. "Juliet, you have an extra frock in your pack, don't you?"

"Yes, yes." Barely dressed herself, Juliet grabbed her pack and pulled out a short-skirted dark green shift. She tossed the traveling dress to Keelia, who quickly pulled it on. Her father had always possessed an oddly human need for modesty where his daughters were concerned.

"Where's Joryn?" Druson asked.

"He's coming." Keelia smoothed the skirt of her mother's frock. "I didn't want to wait for him to catch up, since I did not know if Maccus would be here or not." She looked squarely at her mother. "He's the one who's blocked our psychic energy."

"How do you know?"

"When I was ... where I went," she said, not knowing how to explain any of this quickly, "I was unaffected by his spell. Some things which had been dark to me were illuminated. If we kill Maccus, the spell will be lifted and we'll be able to see again. We must see, Mother. There's a greater threat than one dark and power-hungry Caradon wizard at work, and our gifts will be needed." Keelia had begun to believe, as she'd run during the night, that this horrible threat was the very reason for her abilities. It was not a coincidence that some in this world were born with certain gifts. The test in life came when one had to choose how—or even if—to use those gifts.

She turned to watch the curve in the path. Joryn should be here by now, by her reckoning. Even on foot and naked, he should've been close behind her. She reached for him, in that way she had learned to rely upon, and for a moment she touched his mind.

Joryn?

Almost there. Are your parents and Druson well?

Yes. Hurry, we have much to. . .

Before she could finish, she felt the connection end. It was severed without warning, and she realized the precise moment that mental link vanished. Had Joryn unconsciously blocked her, as he had in the past? Or was something wrong? It was true, in the past their link had been most reliable in moments of crisis, but that didn't mean they couldn't learn to call upon it in even the most peaceful of times.

She tried not to panic. He was very close, and she hadn't heard a sound of alarm or a scuffle of stones from the path. If he'd fallen, she would've heard.

But if Maccus had been lying in wait...

Keelia turned and ran back the way she'd come, but she didn't get far. The Caradon wizard walked calmly around the bend, a length of Joryn's hair grasped in his hand as he dragged the unconscious man along, the other hand closed tight, obviously clenching something. Maccus wore a long purple robe and a small leather sack which hung at his waist. That damned medallion, dented and with a cracked stone at its center, hung against his chest.

"If you want this one to live awhile longer, you'll remain very still. All of you," he said calmly. Much too calmly, considering the odds. Four to one. Five, if Joryn awoke. Keelia looked down at Joryn's face as Maccus moved closer. He wasn't dead, but the rise and fall of his chest was weak and uncertain.

Her father took a step forward. "You assume that I care about this Caradon who has dared to touch my daughter. Kill him. See if I so much as flinch when he dies."

"Father!" Keelia admonished. Joryn had leapt off a cliff to save her, and her parents had been here to witness that act. How could they be so careless with his life?

"We need him," Druson mumbled. "We still need Joryn."

"I don't need him." Ryn rushed forward, and the wizard calmly lifted his hand. He whispered a curt word in the ancient language of the wizards as he tossed a handful of sand into her father's face. Ryn dropped in his tracks, instantly and completely unconscious.

Maccus reached into the pouch that hung from his waist and grabbed another small handful of the sand. Keelia recognized it as that which she'd used to draw a map to lead Maccus's men to Joryn's hiding place, when she'd been in his command. No wonder he had gasped when she'd tossed it onto the table. The seemingly ordinary sand was a powerful weapon.

"Anyone else?" Maccus asked calmly. "What must happen here can be accomplished with all of you senseless, or even dead. I would prefer to wait until tonight, when the moon rises again, but if I must kill you all now..."