Mercedes Lackey - The Outstretched Shadow

Or was just being willing to die enough?

I don't understand…

"You thought we were dead," Jermayan said. "And I must say, without this young lady and her skill with a bow, we might very well have been."

Jermayan paused to exchange a look of warm comradeship with Vestakia that left Kellen gaping in shock. Things had certainly changed while he'd been unconscious!

"But once you destroyed the cairn, the goblin army fled, and your healing regained its power. Once we found you, we got out of there as fast as we could. Fortunately Shalkan was able to light our way back to Valdien and Lily, and praise the powers of Leaf and Star they'd stayed where they were left," Jermayan said. Kellen could hear the relief in his friend's voice.

"We bandaged you up as well as we could," Vestakia added. "Your poor hands! And I thought of bringing you here—this is one of the places where I hide from the Demons. And at least it's dry."

"And there's plenty of fresh meat—if you like goat," Jermayan added, smiling as if at a private joke. Vestakia giggled.

"Do you think you can sit up?" Jermayan asked.

"No," Vestakia said firmly. "I'll lift him up." Gently she cradled Kellen in her arms and raised him into a half-sitting position. Abused muscles shrieked in protest, but he managed to keep from crying out.

Jermayan produced the inevitable cup of tea and held it to his lips. Kellen drained it thirstily, and then another, and then a large bowl of broth. He felt better after that—not well enough to try moving on his own for anything short of a Demon attack, but better.

"My hands," he said, once Vestakia had returned him to a supine position once more. "You said they were burned. I can't even feel them. Can I… do you think… will I be able to hold a sword again?"

"You are a Knight-Mage and a Wildmage," Jermayan answered with a smile. "The healers in Sentarshadeen are very good—and Idalia is there. I believe you will. But now, let us savor our victory. It hasn't stopped raining once in the last three days," Jermayan said, sounding satisfied. "And if it rains so out of season here in the Lost Lands, then the drought must be truly broken in the Elven lands as well. And as for Demons, my girl, your days of hiding from them in caves and under rocks are over. You're coming back to Sentarshadeen with us, and any Demon who comes after you will have to answer to me. As will anyone else," he added meaningfully.

"To all of us, I think," Shalkan said, stepping into the cave. The unicorn was covered in mud, but looking very pleased with himself.

Kellen sighed with relief, feeling himself relax completely. The Barrier was down, his friends were friends with each other, and he was alive. He couldn't stop grinning, even though it made his sand-abraded face hurt a great deal.

"We did it!" he said. It was finally starting to seem real to him.

"Yes, we did," Shalkan said approvingly. "And once you're well enough to travel, we can bring the good news to Sentarshadeen… although I suspect they already know, somehow," the unicorn mused, switching his sopping tail back and forth.

"It will be a wet trip back," Jermayan said cheerfully. "And I'm sure there will be floods and mudslides and—well, it doesn't matter. We did it, all of us. The Barrier is down, the drought is ended. We've broken the power of Shadow Mountain."

Vestakia dipped the cloth in the bowl beside her and began to bathe Kellen's face again with the allheal tincture.

"Thank you," she whispered, bending over him. She kissed him, light as a butterfly wing, upon the forehead, then replaced her lips with the soothing cloth.

And suddenly, Kellen was anything but soothed. Suddenly he felt a peculiar unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach, and was utterly conscious of Vestakia's presence, her nearness, in a way he hadn't been even a moment before.

Now that he realized he was going to live after all, there was the matter of the future to deal with. And he was starting to get the feeling that his vow of celibacy and chastity was really going to be a lot harder to keep than he'd thought.

A whole lot harder.

QUEEN Savilla was angry.

In the Heart of Darkness, her anger was more dangerous than sunlight, more deadly than the touch of a unicorn's horn. All who lived in the World Without Sun feared her fury.

Save one.

PRINCE Zyperis entered the private pleasure chamber of his Queen. The mosaic floor of gold and polished skull-ivory was red and wet, for Queen Savilla had been about her Art for many hours now, slaking her disappointment upon the bodies of those captives who could not be broken or subverted. There were a dozen creatures in various elaborate and ingenious forms of restraint scattered about the chamber, so that Savilla could move from one to the next as her fancy struck her. Most were still capable of screaming, the Prince noted with a connoisseur's eye, though naturally none dared. To make the slightest sound would be to draw Savilla's attention to them once more. There was only a faint pleasing background music of gasps and whimpers, stifled sobs, and the steady beat of the barbed lash that the Queen was using on the current object of her attention, a once-unruly Centaur.

The creature was far beyond standing under its own power, but all six limbs were held fast by a seemingly delicate cage that could be adjusted almost infinitely to provide the Queen full access to any part of its body she wished to torment, without protecting it from her attentions in the slightest.

Prince Zyperis noted, with interest, that Queen Savilla was so thoroughly engaged in her amusement that she hadn't noticed his arrival. That must be rectified. The Barrier was down, the rain had returned to the Elven lands, the Endarkened's plans had been utterly ruined, and even the blood and pain of several of the captives in his own dungeons had not been enough to take the edge off his anger and despair. He needed more. He needed danger.

"One weak and uncertain Knight-Mage, dearest Mama, yet you could not convince him to cast aside his pretty pebble and join his fortunes to ours? How droll."

QUEEN Savilla turned away from her victim. Only one creature in all her kingdom would dare to speak to her like that. With a snarl of rage on her lips, she turned to face her arrogant son. For a moment her eyes burned white-yellow with the force of her passion. Then, with a change of expression so sudden it came as a shock, she licked blood from her claws, and smiled.

"Ah, Prince Zyperis. And your own plans on that day went so well, of course? When may I greet my dear granddaughter Vestakia, and welcome her to our Court?"

PRINCE Zyperis growled. His great wings trembled as he fought his temper. Tweaking the Queen's tail was one thing. A true battle for dominance was something he did not want.

Yet.

"They will pay," he whispered in a low, shaking voice. "The Elves— the accursed Wildmages—my love, we were so close… !"

He could not help himself. To have the one thing he longed for with a longing that was torment snatched out of his claws in the moment of victory! He felt tears of rage burning his eyes.

"And now we must begin again," Savilla said firmly. With a gesture, she banished her servants from the chamber, then went to him and drew his head down against her bosom, stroking his hair and his wings as he wept tears of outrage and fury against her blood-red skin. "But come, let us think of more soothing things for a time."

She recalled her servants, and together they dispatched Savilla's victims one by one.

IT was good to do things together, Queen Savilla reflected. It gave you insight into those who might one day become your enemies, against the day when you might need to destroy them. Meanwhile, the cheated rage that burned in Zyperis's soul was balm to her own. Let others grieve as she sorrowed, for the victory that had been taken from them by the arrogance and pride of a young Knight-Mage. She had spoken no more than the truth when she had told Kellen Tavadon that he had doomed himself. She would make sure of it. Everything and everyone the Knight-Mage loved would die, and he would die with them. Slowly. But only after he had watched her extract the last drop of pain from the ones he cherished.