Gail Martin - Dark Haven

Jonmarc turned to Laisren. "Take volunteers. Vayash moru only." Everyone but Gabriel followed Laisren. "Are you going to ride with us?" Jonmarc asked.

Gabriel nodded. "Of course."

"I know it's a trap. But I can't let Malesh pick off the villages. That's a sure way to bring war."

Gabriel stepped from the shadows into the light of the hearth. "Malesh tried to bring Carina across. We know it didn't work-completely- but we don't know how much of a bond was created. The bond between a maker and a fledgling is very strong. It takes lifetimes to weaken. Destroy the maker, and the new fledglings are also destroyed."

It took a moment for Jonmarc to find his voice. "There's no choice, is there?" he said bleakly. "Buy time for Taru to heal Carina, and Malesh kills a village every day we wait. Even if I could do that, even if it didn't break my oath to Staden, Carina would never forgive me for paying a price like that." His own voice sounded distant, as if someone else were talking. "Destroy Malesh, and I destroy Carina."

"The bond between maker and fledgling is so close that the fledgling dies the maker's death."

Jonmarc closed his eyes, trying to breathe. He lowered himself into a chair and stared into the embers. "Sweet Chenne." "I'm sorry, Jonmarc."

"Malesh is mine. Just give me a clear shot. I'll take him quickly, painlessly. It's more tha'n he deserves."

Gabriel said nothing, but Jonmarc knew from his expression that he understood. "I'll help Lais-ren make ready," he said, and left the room.

Jonmarc stood and walked to the doorway of Carina's room. She lay on the bed, her eyes closed, unmoving. Jonmarc could not see her chest rise and fall. The candlelight softened the pallor of her skin.

He crossed to sit at her bedside, and took her hand in his. It was cold. "I shouldn't have brought you here. I should have known better. Everything I touch crumbles." He withdrew the ruined shevir from his pocket, straightened it as best he could, and slipped it onto Carina's wrist. "I'll come for you," Jonmarc said qliietly, bending forward to kiss Carina on the forehead. "Wait for me."

Quickly now, before I lose my nerve, he thought. When he reached the door, he looked

back for a moment, and then, taking a deep breath, left the room.

He crossed into his own rooms. With practiced speed, he dressed for battle. Beneath his sleeve, he strapped the single quarrel in its launcher. He went to his desk and took a bottle of ink and a stylus, slipping them into his pocket, sure now of what he must do. Carrying his cuirass and cloak, he put out the candles and closed the door behind him."

Dark Haven was quiet. Mortals were asleep, and the vayash moru were busy elsewhere. Jonmarc encountered no one as he descended the stairway. The familiar coldness of battle settled around him. It was the same emotionless chill that had gotten him through Nargi, through Chauvrenne. He'd hoped never to feel it again. Now it returned, as if it had never left.

He paused only a moment at the arched entrance to the chapel. The chamber was lit by banks of candles; the stained glass image of Istra flickered with the torches that made it glow here, where no sun reached. Steeling himself, Jonmarc stripped off his shirt. He moved to stand in front of the large marble statue of Istra. Some long-ago sculptor had depicted a moment of anguish, with Istra lifting up the body of one of her fallen children as if to beseech the skies. At her feet was a large bronze reflecting pool.

Jonmarc knelt and opened the ink. He dipped the stylus, pleased that his hand was steady although his heart was pounding. Better not to think about it. He carefully drew the symbol of the Lady over his heart. The ink would stain his skin. It wouldn't be permanent, but there would not be time for the mark to wear away.

Jonmarc set aside the stylus and unsheathed his sword. He struggled to recall what he had seen men do on the eve of battle, years ago when he fought with the armies of Eastmark and Principality. He drew a deep breath, and raised his sword across his open palms as he bowed his head.

"Istra, Lady of Darkness. Hear me. I come to bargain with you." Only silence answered him. "Give me the life of my enemy, Malesh. Let him fall without pain by my hand, and in return, my soul is forfeit. I swear it." A slight breeze stirred in the chamber. The candles flickered, and a tremor moved across the surface of the water in the basin. As quickly as it came, the breeze was gone. Jonmarc sheathed his sword.

"A noble gesture, but unnecessary." Gabriel's voice sounded from behind him. "It's done."

"You're already the Dark Lady's chosen." "She has a strange way of showing favor." "There's still time. There's still hope." Jonmarc pulled his shirt over his head and fastened on his cuirass. He looked at Gabriel. "I'm done with hope. Now, there's certainty. I'll destroy Malesh. And I'll come for Carina. Let's ride."