Prince of Magic (21 page)

Should she avoid the village of the red-and-black markings—those cryptic symbols which had already disappeared—or should she race toward it?

Sian was not an indecisive man. The right path was always clear to him, and he never hesitated in taking it, no matter what the cost.

Until now. If he told Ariana that the prophesy foretold her death, would it increase her strength and will or would she cower with fear and thus make herself more vulnerable? Like it or not, he could not think only of her. She was necessary in this coming war. Something she was to do in the coming months—or perhaps in the coming years—would make a significant difference in the battle which was hers to fight.

So, should he warn her of all that awaited her? Or should he allow her the blissfulness of false hope? He didn't have much time left in which to decide. Her army of forty men had been assembled by Merin. The sentinels had been told that they were going to fight in a battle like no other, that they would fight evil itself with a woman as their leader. Word had traveled through the palace quickly, as he had known it would. Men and women whispered in fear, and they stared at Ariana as if she were a stranger to them. Word of the battle to come was likely now traveling across the land, warning those who would be their adversaries that they would not be allowed to take what they wanted without a fight. It had begun.

In a matter of hours, Ariana and her army would leave Arthes.

She slept at Sian's side, and he allowed her to sleep. In the past two days, since he'd learned that she'd chosen her date of departure, there had been a strain between them. That strain did not keep him out of her bed, but there was no more laughter here. No more teasing and easy banter. Instead what was between them took on a desperate manner.

Perhaps Ariana didn't know that she was destined to pass into the Land of the Dead before the battle was over, but somewhere deep inside she realized that what she and Sian had would be over the moment she marched away from the palace. She was not coming back.

Was it Diella, lurking deep and whispering dark truths? The empress, if she remained, had been silent and still, but that did not mean she was gone. Sian could only imagine that more than a quarter of a century in Level Thirteen would make a few days or weeks of sleeping and waiting for the right moment to rise very easy, especially if those days or weeks were spent inside a woman like Ariana, who loved life and lived it well.

Sian drew her sleeping body to his, so that he might better feel the brush of her warm skin against his, so that he could drink in the utter and complete femaleness she wore so well. She was special in so many ways he could not begin to list and appreciate them all, and he knew with everything he possessed that she was not meant for war.

He desperately wanted to change the prophesy, but it took a magic much more powerful than his to do such a thing.

Ariana's eyes opened, and gentle fingers brushed away a strand of his hair, hair that had fallen across his cheek as he studied her. "You should sleep, enchanter," she said sleepily. At times like this, that simple word that described his powers sounded like an endearment, as meaningful as the "love" he had tossed so thoughtlessly at Diella.

"We need to talk."

"No." Her bare body shifted into his, and she was warm. Wonderfully warm and soft. "Our time for talk is done." She sighed. "Don't make me sad, Sian. Don't whisper revealing words that I will carry with me when I go. A soldier isn't supposed to cry."

He would argue that he had no revealing words to whisper, but she was an empath and surely knew better. "You need more study," he said, removing emotion from his voice. "I thought I might travel with you for a while."

She tipped her head back and looked him squarely in the eye. "No. Thank you, but no."

Sian bristled. He had not expected her to refuse. "You're not ready to go on alone."

"I am as ready as I will ever be."

"But—"

"And I'm not entirely alone." She caressed the cord at her throat.

"That's hardly sufficient—"

"Don't make me say it," she interrupted. "Don't make me tell you that I am leaving you behind for the same reason I sent Duran to Tryfyn." =

Protection. Worry. Love.

She curled against him and didn't say another word. Neither did he. He held her close, and rubbed his hand up and down her back. It was the fine, sweet back of a woman, not a warrior.

After a while, he whispered, "If I could take your place, I would do so. If I could carry all your burdens, I would not hesitate."

The words she did not want to hear were wasted, as she had already fallen into an uneasy sleep.

Eventually Sian slept, too. When he woke, he saw that Ariana had awakened and left the bed without disturbing him. The sun was barely up, and yet she had begun to dress, pulling on a sentinel's green trousers and a sentinel's loose-sleeved green shirt. Her vest and weapons sat close by, but she had not yet donned them.

She was too busy reading the prophesy she'd plucked from his coat pocket.

Ariana felt like she could melt through the floor. She had always known that death was possible, she had even of ten thought it was likely. But to see it written this way, not as a possibility but as a certainty…

Sian had known all along. He had purposely hidden the truth from her. He'd trained her, shared her bed, come to care for her… and all that time he'd been lying to her.

"Ariana."

Her head snapped up when he called her name so softly. He remained there in her bed, naked and maddeningly calm. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"To what end?" Sian asked as he left the bed. He moved toward her, but she backed away two short steps. She did not want him to touch her. Not now.

"Must there be an
end
to the truth? Must every word that leaves your mouth be weighed and calculated and… and… cold?" she finished. "Calculated and cold, that's what you are."

Sian reached for his trousers… trousers that had been hanging on a chair near the coat she had been drawn to as she'd dressed. It was as if a little voice in the back of her head had whispered,
You know the prophesy is there. You know you want to read it before you leave
.

And so she had. Now she wished she had ignored the impulse that had driven her to read this prophesy which doomed her.

Sian pulled on his trousers quickly. "I have been studying the witches' journals from Level Seven, trying to find a way back from the Land of the Dead as I searched for more information on the Isen Demon."

"There is no way back from the Land of the Dead," she snapped as she threw the prophesy at him.

"How do you know? Perhaps there is something we don't know of which can change this prophesy. A spell or a potion or an amulet…"

"Stop it," Ariana ordered in a lowered voice. She raised her chin, and even though everything that meant anything to her was currently falling apart, she did not cry. She did not even whimper.

Not everything in her heart was gone. She still had the love of her family, and the knowledge that her actions could save many people much pain. What she'd lost was Sian, and in truth, he had never been hers. If he had been hers in the ways she had imagined, he would not have lied to her.

"You're dismissed," she said calmly. "I hope your journey home is a pleasant one." Words caught in her throat, but she did not let the reaction show. "No wonder you never told me where you lived. You knew all along that I would not be looking for you when the battle was done, because when the battle is done, I'll be dead."

He reached for her.

"Don't, Sian." She tilted her head slightly and studied the face of the man she'd thought she knew so well. "Does every man lie when it suits him? Is any man capable of speaking the truth even when it is painful to him, even when that truth gets in the way of what he wants? Will a man lie simply because it is
convenient
? I think perhaps that is the case. No wonder a woman is destined to lead this army. Truth is necessary, Sian, even when it's unpleasant."

"You need more men," he said sharply, completely ignoring her argument.

"Not yet," she responded with confidence. "Right now I need Keelia and Lyr and their people. Once we're assembled, then I'll decide how many more men I need."

He was clearly frustrated as he folded the prophesy and stuffed it into his pocket. "You have Merin and his forty. Why not make it forty-one?" he asked gruffly. "I can fight, you know. And my magic would be helpful, in battle and in travel."

Since she'd discovered the extent of the prophesy and Sian's lies, Ariana had stepped away from him, keeping her distance. Now she moved toward him. She reached up and took his face in her hands, her palms resting against cheeks rough with a morning's stubble, and then she went up on her toes and kissed him. It was a cold kiss, unlike any other they had shared. When she pulled her mouth from his and dropped down, she said, "I love you, Sian, and I thank you for everything you have taught me. I love you, but I do not trust you. I don't want a man I can't trust in my army."

She handed him his shirt, then stepped past him and opened the door. "Good-bye, enchanter. I wish you a long and happy life."

Frustrated, he stepped into the hallway. She slammed the door behind him, and then, without pause, crossed the room to continue preparing for the day. She would wear an outfit very much like that of any soldier as she marched away from Arthes. Her fingers trembled as she fastened the buttons of her vest, and she tried to dismiss the reaction by retreating into her own thoughts.

He's not worth a moment's heartache.

I know that.

There are other men in the world, men who would be more than happy to take his place. You will soon discover that one man is very much like another.

But I don't want another man. And even if I did, I'm going to die, probably soon.

Death is not so bad…

The soldiers Fynnian had assembled looked fiercer and more prepared than those who had come at Ciro's silent command. They were certainly better armed. Still, the prince knew that when the time to fight was upon them, none would be fiercer than those who had answered his call.