to Axis the day he‘d killed Borneheld.
She trembled violently, and stood back, wrapping her arms about herself.
Every muscle of her body, every nerve ending, screamed at her to now slip off her clothes
until she stood white naked, save for the mantle of her desire. And then? Then to lift the cloak
from its hook and slip it about her shoulders, tying the tassels at her throat, and walk the
corridors of this palace until she came to Drago‘s chamber.
And when she slipped silently inside the door, Faraday knew what she would find.
Drago, asleep in a chair before the fire.
Thus had she found Axis, and thus had she given her body and love to Axis.
Faraday bent over, screwing her eyes shut, trying to find the courage to resist the call of
both body and cloak.
Something, damned fate, now needed her to give herself to Drago as she‘d once given
herself to Axis. And what then…what then? Would he betray her love and need as Axis had
done?
In the past weeks she‘d found herself being dragged to Gorkenfort, and now to Carlon,
retracing the steps of her previous life. Would she continue to retrace her previous mistakes and
naivities until she stood held in the talons of some foul Demon in some misbegotten chamber,
watching Drago intent on saving Tencendor and not her?
Was this what Noah has recreated her for? Was this her fate through life after life after
damned, accursed life?
―No!‖ she cried and slammed shut the doors of the wardrobe. She would deny her love
for Drago, deny her need for him, and thus save her life.
―No, no, no!‖ she whispered now, and tore herself away from the wardrobe. ―Never! This
land must find itself another way to save it than my blood!‖
For doubtless this land would need blood to save it.
―And always my blood,‖ she said. ―Always mine. Why? ‖
She had to get out of this chamber. It was not the one she‘d used when she‘d gone from
being Borneheld‘s wife to Axis‘ whore within the space of a few hours, nor even the same
palace, but it was a prison nevertheless…and the blue cloak had managed to find its way here.
Faraday took a deep breath, tucked a few stray tendrils of hair behind her ears, and wiped
the wetness from her eyes.
It was night, and Demon-free, and even though the wind blew cold, a walk on the
parapets might clear her mind enough to resist all the temptations and siren calls of fate.
But even so, Faraday‘s feet slowed outside Drago‘s chamber, and she paused to stare at
his door for long minutes before she could force herself past.
Gods, but she wanted him. She loved and adored him as she had never adored Axis.
Drago had a gentleness that his father had never had, and a depth of compassion that exceeded
anything his parents had. Did he get that from Rivkah? Faraday could not think where else.
―Ah! Stop these thoughts!‖ she chided herself, and forced her feet briskly towards the
stairs leading to the parapets. ―Find yourself a peasant with no destiny and be content!‖
At that she had to smile. Her? Wrapped contentedly in some burly, work-odoured
peasant‘s arms in a straw and licefilled bed? And then her sense of humour truly resurrected
itself, and Faraday laughed aloud at her own thoughts. That was her mother Merlion in her!
She opened the door to the parapets and breathed in the air gratefully, still smiling at
what Merlion would have made of her daughter‘s thoughts on men and love. Sometimes Faraday
pondered at the absurdity that her mother had ever submitted to the whole sweaty, thrusting
business of love…but she must have done…at least once…unless her father got her so drunk one
night she slept through the entire distasteful procedure.
Faraday giggled, and clapped a hand to her mouth to stifle her mirth. What could Merlion
have thought when her belly began to swell with child? That a roving dark incubus had
impregnated her during some nightmare?
Faraday‘s giggles increased, and she walked over to the stone walls stare at the sight of
Carlon spread out below the palace. Gods! She had to stop this line of thought!
―Why so merry, Faraday?‖ a soft voice said behind her, and she spun about, sobering into
bright anger.
―What are you doing here!‖ she snapped.
Drago stopped, surprised by her tone. Hadn‘t they come to some workable arrangement?
―I heard you pass my chamber,‖ he said, ―and I thought that I would—‖
―Would what? Thought that you would open the door and seize me and drag me to your
bed? Is that what you—‖
―Stop it!‖ Now he, too, was angry. ―For the gods‘ sakes, Faraday! What is the matter with
you? I only wanted to speak with you.‖
Her face tightened, and she turned back to the view. ― I only want to be left alone.‖
―Faraday.‖ Drago‘s voice had softened. ―I would never force myself on you. You have
very clearly stated you do not want me.‖
―SunSoar love forces itself everywhere,‖ she said bitterly. ―Your father would not take
‗No‘ as a suitable response. How can you?‖
Drago risked stepping closer to her. He put out a hand, thinking to touch her shoulder,
then thought better of it. ―What is wrong?‖
She turned back to him, leaning against the parapet, her face tilted up to his. ―Did you
know that earlier I was remembering Axis?‖
―Is that why you were laughing?‖
―I was recalling the night that I came to him here. The night I went to his bed for the first
time. Although,‖ she paused, ―one strictly cannot call the hearth rug a bed, can one?‖
Drago‘s face tightened, but he did not speak.
―What do you think of that, Drago? Did you realise that the first time I lay with your
father it was here in Carlon? Did you know that, in the very chamber you now occupy, I spent
many long nights with your father?‖
―Would you like to give me a thrust by thrust description?‖ he snapped. ―Would that
appease your need to hurt me? To push me away?‖
Faraday averted her face, angry with herself, but more so with him. Why was he here?
Why?
Drago suddenly reached out and grabbed her to him, pressing her against his body.
―Damn you!‖ he whispered. ―I have travelled through the very stars to return to you. Do I
deserve this much hatred?‖
She tensed, her hands on his chest. ―You journeyed back through the stars in your
desperate need to redeem yourself to Tencendor, not for me. Is it not Tencendor you should be
forcing to your bed?‖
―Curse you, Faraday!‖ Drago cried, and let her go. ―Why do you stay with me if you hate
me this much?‖
―Because I promised Noah I would be your friend,‖ she said. ―And that is the only
reason.‖
Drago stared at her a long searching minute before he replied. ―I do not believe you. How
hard did you have to fight with yourself, Faraday, not to come to that well-remembered chamber
again tonight?‖
―And how much do you wonder,‖ she countered, ―whose name I would have had ringing
through my mind as I let you love me? Whose shoulders I would feel under my hands? Whose
mouth I wanted to feel on mine before all others?‖
―All stars damn you,‖ Drago said weakly. ―Why won‘t you accept love when it is given
you freely? I have no paramour hiding in Spiredore across the Lake. No lover awaiting me in
some secret bed. I would be yours, and yours only.‖
―No.‖ Faraday shook her head slowly back and forth, and her eyes glistened with tears.
―You lie. You have a paramour and a lover and one you are destined to betray me for.‖
―Oh, for the gods—‖
―If I let you love me, if I let me love you, then I would condemn myself to the same fate I
suffered at Axis‘ hands.‖
―Who would I betray you for, Faraday?‖ he asked softly. ― Who, dammit?‖
She stared at him. ―You would betray me for Tencendor.‖
And then she pushed roughly past him and was gone.
59
A Fate Deserved?
They had come directly south, moving through the north-western portion of the ranges
where the forest had not stretched so they could conserve power rather than expend it fighting
the trees.
The trees could wait. Their time for destruction had not yet come.
The four Demons who were left were close to the maximum power they could achieve
without Qeteb to aid them. They had drunk deeply of the souls available in Tencendor, and had
deepened their own abilities, but until Qeteb walked beside them, snarling with the laughter of
life, they were necessarily contained.
As Rox‘s death had demonstrated.
If Qeteb had been there, the struggle would have ended somewhat differently.