THREE DROPS OF BLOOD (33 page)

The atmosphere of this place is healing, as well as providing shelter.

Ah, and that will be a good thing. One of the Three Drops will suffer--perhaps I will
bring her or him here, to heal and sleep.
He held out his hand to her
. Come. I will show
you the way, should anything happen to me.

You cannot die. That would mean the destruction of the Zygradon.
Meghianna
didn't care that her voice rose in panic. There was no one here but Mrillis to hear her.

The destruction of the Zygradon might mean my death, yes.
He put his hands on
her shoulders and turned her, so her back was to him.
What I meant, my dear, is that should
the need arise for this place, I may be too busy elsewhere to bring the sleeper here. Or too
closely watched by enemies who should not know this Vale of Lanteer exists, much less the way
to get inside. It will be up to you.

You do not believe I will be the one who suffers or sleeps?
She nearly laughed
with the relief that washed over her. Meghianna didn't like being too close to the center of any
prophecy. It seemed safer, calmer, to be the one who served and aided the others.

She caught her breath--that meant either Megassa or their unborn brother would be the
one who abominated. What could that mean? What horrid crime would one of them
commit?

We can only guess what our roles will be. We can only do our best to guide the
current of time and men's lives, and pray to the Estall that we can make a difference for the
good. There is no one else strong enough to open the door, and no one else I trust with this
secret. It is time for you to know. I believe that is the reason Trevissa was given the prophecy for
you. Now, watch.

In moments, she fell through time, to the chamber below the sea, in the tunnel between
continents, when Mrillis as a young man followed the currents of magic and the twisting of the
Threads and found the Vale of Lanteer and the man who slept there. She watched him anchor the
Threads to the chamber, and weave the Threads so that only those who knew the one spot could
find the doorway into the vale, which Graddon had taken outside of the fabric of time and
physical being.

When the vision ended, she blinked and found herself sitting on her couch, fighting the
wave of heavy dizziness that always came after wandering outside of her body. Mrillis still held
her hand, and watched her with that bemused, slightly sad smile.

"This is something," Meghianna whispered, needing to hear a voice to cleanse the
shimmer of magic from her body and mind, "as powerful and as dangerous and as vital as the
Zygradon and Braenlicach."

"It could be that you were born simply to guard the secret, and use it for the good of the
entire World and the generations yet to be born," Mrillis said. "We never know what the Estall
has planned for us until long after we have walked the path and carried the burden."

"Do you think the Estall is finished with you?"

"Unfortunately, no." He grinned and pushed to his feet. "Come. Efrin and Glyssani are
anxious to see you. I have confirmed their joyous secret, but as you were the one who had the
vision, they want you to make doubly sure."

Meghianna laughed breathlessly and let him pull her to her feet and lead her from her
quarters. So what she had guessed was true--Glyssani was pregnant with Efrin's son.

At last. Blessed Estall, I thank you. Let me be a strong warrior in my own right, to
protect my brother and the heavy burden you have prepared for him.

"There you are," Efrin greeted her, flinging the door open when Meghianna and Mrillis
were several steps away from the royal couple's quarters. He pulled his daughter into a tight,
quick embrace, his smile strained.

Despite herself, Meghianna laughed. She laughed more when Efrin stopped short, eyes
widening in surprise.

"What is so amusing?" he demanded, leading her through the front room, into the
private sitting area, where Glyssani lay propped up with cushions, a faint pallor the only sign of
illness.

"Oh, Papa, for the first time in my life, you're glad to see me because you
need
me. It's quite a shock, but I think I like it." She shared a knowing glance with Glyssani, which
warmed her. "I'm not your little girl anymore."

"Now, see here--"

"Majesty, don't even try to argue with a woman in her element," Mrillis said. "When it
comes to babies, it is them against all the rest of the world, and men are useless and know next to
nothing."

"I wouldn't quite say that," Glyssani said. She sighed, her smile brightening as
Meghianna settled down on the edge of the long couch so their hips touched. "Oh, it is good to
see you again, even if I didn't have my...little concern."

"A large concern, if I have my way," Meghianna retorted. She held out her hands, and it
warmed her a little more when Glyssani gave her hands into her grasp without hesitation. "How
far along do you think you are?"

"Perhaps two moons. I wasn't sure until I started to feel unwell." She shrugged and
wrinkled up her nose at Efrin. "I was utterly miserable with Markas, so I hope this is a good sign
of--"

"No." Meghianna laughed when her stepmother's mouth dropped open. "It is too soon to
tell if it is a boy or a girl, but yes, you are most definitely with child."

She finished the first step of examining the expectant mother, releasing her hands so she
could press her palms flat along the barely noticeable curve of Glyssani's belly. She had learned
from her many teachers, and from dealing with delicate pregnancies, that touch-sensing was less
dangerous to mother and child. Using the Threads to examine the body didn't allow for a gentle
enough touch. Sometimes the flow of energy in the Threads, even held in the most skillful hands,
upset the balance of new life, and early enough in a pregnancy could cause miscarriage.

"When did you first start falling ill?" She bit her lip in concentration and closed her eyes
more to block out the worried expressions around her. Efrin stepped up on the other side of his
wife's couch and held her hand. Meghianna almost told her father to release Glyssani, that his
touch interfered with the sensing, but she knew the expectant mother needed that bit of strength
and support.

"Just about the time Megassa returned from her grand parade," Efrin said, his voice sour
enough Meghianna opened her eyes to stare at her father.

"Papa? What's wrong?"

"I think I prefer her risking her neck, covered with mud and bruises and sending the
Encindi raiders fleeing in terror." He shared a rueful look with Glyssani.

"Megassa has decided she likes being a grand lady, concerned with clothes and jewelry
and dancing," the queen said. "Lorkin showers her with gifts and praise, now that she is safely
his, and is pleasantly jealous of the attention she is getting from all sorts of nobles who wouldn't
give her a second glance before. She decorates herself for him and pretends she never picked up
a sword or arrow and... if it weren't so extreme, it might be amusing and sweet." She sighed and
pressed her hand over her belly, at the same moment Meghianna felt the surge of nausea, the
fractional shifting of balance in her blood. "With all the fuss of Megassa returning, after being
the guest at fourteen estates in the last five moons... I thought I had merely pushed myself too
hard."

"You ignored your own discomfort too long," Efrin corrected, and pressed a kiss to her
curled fingers.

"There is something wrong, but not with the child," Meghianna said, taking her hands
off Glyssani's belly and standing. She fought the urge to wring her hands together, as if she could
wipe something foul off her fingers. "I think... Perhaps all the visitors in the fortress brought
some illness with them."

"A fine hosting gift," Mrillis said, nodding. "It should be simple enough to treat, with
tonics to cleanse the blood and strengthen your flesh."

"Why can't you just--" Efrin gestured helplessly, mimicking the motions Meghianna and
Mrillis both used when they manipulated the Threads. Even though the work was done all with
their minds and spirits, it helped sometimes to move their hands, to reinforce the
movements.

"The Threads are full of too much power, and it is too much effort to restrain them, to
have the delicate touch that will not scald the baby," Glyssani said.

She laughed when Efrin's mouth dropped open in surprise. "My love, I have studied
magic quite a bit, in the years since Timark's foolish prejudice was removed from Welcairn. I do
have some small bit of
imbrose
, enough to sense danger--and that served me well
enough, we all know." She sighed. "I thought, if by the grace of the Estall I did give you a child,
I should know the heritage that might come to him, or her."

"I don't care if we have a boy or a girl, as long as neither of you are harmed," he vowed,
and dropped down on the couch on the spot where Meghianna had sat.

Mrillis beckoned for Meghianna to follow him out of the room, leaving the two
alone.

We must determine the illness before we can safely dose her,
he thought to her
as they hurried out of the living quarters area, to his workroom.

I can give her something that will strengthen her, while we search,
she
responded. Now Meghianna did rub her fingers together.
There is something... unclean,
nibbling at her. I don't like it.

Ah, then it grew just in the short time since I went down to greet you. I sensed
something, but it was too weak and small, like a shadow that flickers out of view whenever you
turn your head to see it.

You think it is not an illness?

I don't know what to think, and that worries me more than anything else about this
situation.
Mrillis sighed.
I am grateful you are home now, Meggi. We need you. You are
a healer, gifted by the Estall, and I am only a boy who has stood in the doorway of the healing
hall and watched.

* * * *

Megassa invaded the workroom before the potion was halfway completed, interrupting
the discussion over the possibilities of Glyssani's illness. A whirlwind of ornate gowns and
scarves, jewels and perfume accompanied her. Megassa's hugs and exclamations of delight
turned into teasing scolding for her sister, for not coming to see her immediately, the moment she
rode through the gates.

"You were out riding and I was sick of riding," Meghianna retorted. "I wanted to wash
and rest a while before I was fit to see anyone."

"Hah! I know you too well, Meggi." Megassa giggled and hugged her again. "You
barely said hello to Papa and Glyssani, and then you immured yourself here with Lord Mrillis,
working on some nasty potion. Or is it another attempt to see into the future?" She stepped over
to the table holding the box of sand, coals, and the metal stand that held up the tiny cauldron of
bubbling potion.

"I have never..." Meghianna sighed and gave in to the inevitable. Megassa was in high
spirits, and the harder someone tried to have a serious conversation with her, the more she would
refuse.

"Welcome home, sister," Lorkin said, emerging from the cluster of court ladies in all
their finery. He wore dark brown and gold, with amber stones in his few ornaments; ring and
wristband and browband.

At least he doesn't affect stark black and silver all the time,
she remarked to
Mrillis.
Then I would think he was entirely posturing and trying to frighten everyone into
submission.

That earned a snort from the enchanter, who continued with his work as if there were no
intruders in his workroom.

"Come along with us. The real festivities can begin, now that you're here," Megassa
retorted, and caught hold of her sister's hands, physically threatening to drag her from the
room.

"Go on," Mrillis said, when Meghianna opened her mouth to protest and turned to him
for support. "You have worked far too hard and long. You need some foolery."

"Foolery!" Megassa squeaked, earning giggles from her friends.

Meghianna decided in that moment, she might just hate Lorkin for turning her sister into
a brainless flutter of scarves and jewels.

"Very well," she sighed, and nodded toward the doorway. "I suppose you're going to
insist on dressing me and painting me. It won't do you any good."

"Nonsense. You don't like dressing up because you simply haven't found the right
clothes to bring out your beauty." Megassa tucked her sister's arm through hers and gestured, so
the gaggle of women parted to let them out the door.

"There is a reason every Queen of Snows has always dressed in silver and white, Megs."
From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Lorkin's scowl before he smoothed it
away.

So he didn't like being reminded of her position. Why? Meghianna thought of the few
mutters of unrest in the court, the first suggestions that Lorkin and Megassa be named regents for
their firstborn son, who would be named Efrin's heir. Did Lorkin perhaps think that Meghianna
still had a claim to the Warhawk's throne, since she was the firstborn, and Efrin's only legitimate
child?

I have been watching him and listening to all the whispers and gossip.
Trust me,
Mrillis said, when Meghianna sent a silent query to him, worried by that
suspicion.

I trust you. I simply don't trust anyone who seems to enjoy the games of court
politics. Especially someone who could have an ulterior motive for making my sister fall in love
with him. I won't have Megs hurt. I'll rip his soul from his body and consign him to an eternity of
torment if he does that.

Make Megassa fall in love? How can anyone make that girl do anything?

The utter ridiculousness of the notion cut through the knot just starting to form in
Meghianna's belly. She laughed, just as her laughing captors hauled her through the doorway to
Megassa's quarters. That made it easier for her to give in to the inevitable. In a way, it was
almost pleasant to sit still, with her eyes closed, and let someone else fuss with her hair and rub
sweetly scented lotions into her skin and chatter about clothes and colors. She let them dress her
like a rag doll, and slipped into a pleasantly tired haze.