Bertrice Small: The Twilight Lord

The third book in the World of Hetar series, 2007

HE HAD NOT THOUGHT it possible to be vanquished by a creature half-human, half-faerie. But as the stones concealing the tower window exploded outward with her incantation and the bright light poured into the chamber, Usi knew that he would not survive. He howled a moment in frustration and with his last vestige of strength tried to tempt Lara into the darkness, but her powers and her resolve were too strong for him now. The light scorched him cruelly with its fierce cleansing burn.

In that single instant before he was finally hurled into the realm of the Lord of Oblivion, he thought of how long ago he had prepared for just this moment, though he had not truly believed it would ever come. The faerie woman had defeated him. But his essence would survive in his descendants. His enemies never knew that he had deliberately fathered children on two of the women he had brought to his tower. He had sent the women away before their condition could be known, not just for their safety but for the safety of the progeny they would bear him.

Aye! His black blood ran in the veins of others to this day. And as he called out to that blood with his last dying breath he heard it answer him, and rejoiced. The final battle was yet to be fought.

THE GREAT WINGED HORSE galloped across the skies above the Emerald Mountains, a single rider on his back. Strapped to the animal’s side was a woven basket in which a sleeping child lay. Lara glanced now and again at her daughter Zagiri to make certain she remained asleep. She was a beautiful little child with her father’s dark gold hair; her golden eyelashes fanned out over her pale-pink cheeks. She looks like him, Lara thought. The only bit of me in her are her green eyes.

“We’re almost there,” Dasras said as they left the mountains behind them. “I can see the fields of the Blathma below us, and just beyond and to my left are the meadows of the Aghy. I wonder if Roan has any pretty new mares.”

Lara chuckled. “You are as lusty as a Shadow Prince,” she told him.

Dasras chortled. “Well, I was born and raised among them,” he said drolly. Then he asked, “Is the princess still sleeping?”

“Aye,” Lara responded. “She’ll be delighted to see Dillon again-and he her. I hope Anoush has gotten over her jealousy by now. She doesn’t even understand that I am her mother and her invidiousness toward Zagiri is hurtful.”

“She is too young to have developed that attitude without help,” Dasras remarked.

“Who can have planted the seed of envy in Anoush? Certainly not your good Noss. She has always been a fine foster mother to your children.”

“Vartan’s mother,” Lara said sadly and with certainty. “She grows madder with each passing day. I have asked Noss to limit my children’s visits to Bera but she is their grandmother. Of course there is Cam, as well. Adon’s son is Anoush’s cousin. And Bera is raising him. I have never found him to be a pleasant child.”

“You should investigate the situation and see that it is corrected,” Dasras advised. “It does not matter that your children are blood kin to Bera and Cam. If they pose a danger to Dillon and Anoush, you must do what you must to keep Vartan’s younglings safe. Bera’s feelings cannot matter to you, and Cam has no sensibilities at all to consider that I can see. The safety of your children must come first and foremost.”

“I am fortunate to have such wise advisers as you, Verica and Andraste,” Lara told the great stallion.

“And the Dominus?” Dasras teased her.

“Villain!” Lara laughed. “My husband is a good man and a wonderful lover, but he does not understand humanity as well as he thinks he does. However, we shall not tell him that, shall we, Dasras?”

The horse shook his head, then began his descent to the lands below him, which were possessed by the Fiacre Clan. He preferred galloping the last few miles into the main village, New Camdene, rather than just descending into its midst. The cattle in his path scattered as his hooves touched the ground. There was no one this bright summer morning to see their arrival until they drew close to the dwellings. To Lara’s delight it was her son, Dillon, who first saw them coming and ran toward Dasras to welcome his mother. The horse came to a stop.

“Mother! Welcome!” Dillon said. “Have you brought Zagiri?” Standing on his toes he peeped into the basket. “Ahh, Zigi, wake up now,” he cooed.

The little girl slowly opened her eyes and, seeing Dillon, smiled and held out her arms to him. “D,” she said excitedly. “Uppy, D!”

Dillon lifted her from the basket and set her on her feet. Zagiri slipped her hand into his and together they began to walk. Lara slid down from her saddle to join them as Dasras followed. Lara smiled as she watched Zagiri toddle along beside Dillon on her fat little legs. Her son carefully matched his steps to his younger sibling.

“Where is Anoush?” Lara asked the boy.

He stopped and turned a serious face to her. “We must speak on Anoush, Mother,” he said quietly.

“Did you know I would come today?” she asked, nodding.

He smiled at her now. “Aye, I awoke and felt you drawing near. That is why I came out to meet you. I know Dasras’s habit of landing several miles outside the village and then taking a leisurely gallop. My instincts are growing stronger.”

“You will go to your grandmother and Prince Kaliq one day for training,” Lara said. “Not yet, but one day, my son.”

“When?” he asked eagerly.

“When you are twelve,” she answered.

“I should go sooner,” he protested. “That is almost three years away.”

“The fact that you cannot accept my decision in the matter but proves to me that you are not yet mature enough,” Lara told him.

“Ah, you are too clever, mother,” he said with a chuckle.

“Aye, I am clever but I am also wise, Dillon. Anoush has no magic in her I can yet see and I cannot yet tell if Zagiri will have magic. But you, my son, from the beginning I could see the magic in you, but I said nothing and let you discover it for yourself. With the proper training you will be a great sorcerer one day. But you also need time to be the little boy you are now. You need long summer days feeling the sun on your back, picking berries and eating them until your tongue is blue, swimming in the lake, riding your horse and lying on a hillside at night looking up at the stars. Your summers must feel as if they would go on forever and ever. For now, you must be taken unawares by the summer’s end and your return to lessons,” Lara told him. “When you feel the summers going quickly, then I will know you are growing up and we will begin to discover how much magic is in you. Then and only then will you go to study with Prince Kaliq and your grandmother. You will be old for far more years than you are young, Dillon. Enjoy these years.”

“Mother, you are wise and I know your words are truth,” he told her.

Lara smiled. “Tell me of your sister now,” she said. They began to walk again.

“Our grandmother infects her with discontent,” Dillon said.

“And your cousin?”