Malesh and the others looked sharply toward the corridor. Uri stood in the doorway. For once, Uri was completely lacking the golden chains and jeweled rings that were his signature.
Gone, too, were his elaborate waistcoat and his frilled shirt. Dressed in black without ornamentation, Uri looked more like a mourner than a lord.
"End?" Malesh questioned, languorously swinging his legs down so that he sat up to face Uri. "We're only getting started." He fingered the talisman around his throat, the blood magic charm that shielded his thoughts from his maker. "What's the matter, Uri? Hurt that we didn't invite you to the party?"
Uri's dark eyes glinted with anger. "Riqua and Gabriel are bloodsworn against us-not just your fledges, but against all of my house. Tresa and Calthian are dead-killed as a warning and left at Scothnaran's doorstep. I've sent the rest into hiding."
"Some may be hiding-but the rest came to me. If they didn't want to fight before, seeing Tresa and Calthian murdered made them ready to see my point of view."
Uri stepped into the room. "You've destroyed two villages. How long until King Staden sends his troops against you? Even if you kill Vahanian-and it's going to be harder than you think-Staden can't let you succeed. Once the burnings start, the mortals won't be worried about 'good' vayash moru and 'bad' vayash moru. They'll burn us all."
Malesh looked away, pointedly toying with the gold chain at his wrist. "Then we will unite against a common enemy and take what is rightfully ours. That's what you're afraid of, isn't it, Uri?
Burning?" He stood and faced Uri. "Do you know what I fear? I fear an eternity
pretending to be less than I am. Playing the servant when I'm born to be the master. We deserve to rule over the mortals. You said so yourself. We deserve to rule with the Goddess because we are gods ourselves."
Uri's move toward Malesh was blocked by half a dozen vayash moru. "This isn't the way to do it. Mortals outnumber us. We can't make fledges as quickly as they breed. Even if they die by the hundreds, by the thousands, there are more of them left to hunt us." Uri looked around the impassive faces of Malesh's circle. "I remember being hunted in Trevath." He swept aside a crystal pitcher with his arm; it shattered on the floor, spraying blood across the room.
"You think you're safe in your hiding places. The mortals can track you if they want to badly enough. There are Hunters out there; Trevath and Nargi have never stopped using them. There are mortals just looking for provocation to send out the Hunters, and you're giving them exactly what they need to turn others against us."
"All these years you've protested the Truce-it was just empty bluster," Malesh goaded.
"We rule best from the shadows, behind the throne." "That didn't work too well for Arontala."
"He pushed too hard-and he was a traitor to our kind. Many mortals want what we have- eternal life, eternal youth, beauty. They're willing puppets to gain us what we want-a say in how the kingdoms are run, power over our own destiny."
"I don't care to rule from the shadows," Malesh said disdainfully. "War's coming-a war that will sweep up the mortals of the Winter Kingdoms. When it comes, we'll feast on blood, and we'll be the only ones strong enough to rebuild from the wreckage. The mortals will turn to us to save them."
"This is madness. You have to end it-now."
"No." Malesh swept his arm to indicate the room and the half-dozen vayash moru in it. "Your time is past. We rule now."
Uri moved before Malesh could stop him, crushing Senan's throat and tossing him aside. Berenn rushed toward Uri, and Uri dodged him, faster on his feet than Malesh expected, swinging around to strike again. Berenn maneuvered Uri into position with his back toward Malesh as Malesh withdrew a shiv from under his sleeve. As the vayash moru circled Uri, Malesh dove, sinking the shiv through the back of Uri's coat and into his heart. Uri sputtered blood and dropped to the ground, immobilized.
Malesh smiled. "I had it on good authority that the Old Ones don't die from a strike through the heart-at least, without other, magical weapons. My blood charms may not let me destroy you, but I can keep you from getting in my way. We're creating what you've always wanted-a world where the strongest rules." His smile faded. "My sources were a bit unclear as to how long I can keep you like this. The guesses ranged from a few days to… forever." He signaled to his group to move toward the door. "Enjoy your rest while we fight your battle-the battle you never had the balls to start."
Chapter Three
"She's moving. Let's see if she comes around."
The voices were distant, dream-like. The darkness was so complete it seemed to have mass, a smothering dark liquid instead of nothingness. She fought her way through it with a desperation close to panic. The darkness impeded her, making every motion an act of will. She focused her waning energy for a final push, and burst through the barrier that kept her in darkness.
Lady Carina Vahanian opened her eyes. The room around her was dark, its heavy curtains pulled tightly shut. Candles glowed dimly, enough for Carina to make out the forms of people standing around her bedside, and the luminous form of Raen, the ghost girl, in the shadows. One of the forms moved closer. "Welcome back," Sister Taru said with a tired smile.
Another feeling washed over Carina, a new sensation of ravening hunger. She felt as if she
had been climbing mountains for days, pushed beyond endurance.
"Drink this." It was Riqua who spoke, holding out a glass of liquid. Carina was too famished
to question, and gulped the liquid down before she finally registered the strange taste as
she drained the glass. It tasted, she thought with revulsion, of milk and blood.
"Have I been brought across?" Carina's voice was scratchy and faint.
"Not exactly." Royster the Librarian moved up beside her on the left and sat on the edge of
the bed. "That's the problem."
Lisette, Carina's vayash moru lady in waiting, stepped closer to help Carina sit, supported by pillows. Carina could see the worry in Lisette's face, and saw echoes of that same concern in the dimly lit faces of the others. "What do you remember?" Taru asked gently.
Carina closed her eyes and grimaced. "I went to Westormere," Carina said quietly. "To heal the people with fever." Her eyes darkened. "We were attacked by vayash moru. They killed. everyone. I fought, but Malesh was stronger." Her right hand rose to her throat, finding the two fresh punctures that were not yet healed. "He forced me to let him drink. and then he made me
take his blood. He meant to bring me across."
Taru's eyes were sad as she took Carina's hand. "Malesh is young in the Dark Gift. He didn't know that a healer can't be brought across-not with the healing powers intact, anyhow. The healing magic wars with the Dark Gift."
"Right now, you're stuck between," Riqua finished. "You're not living, but you're not vayash moru, and you're certainly not dead."
Carina closed her eyes, sensing her healer's magic within her own body. After a moment, she looked at Taru. "I can't stay this way. I can feel the strain. What now?" "Now, we try to find a way to heal you-or bring you across fully," Royster answered. Carina turned to look at the elderly scholar. Royster's white hair was even wilder than usual, as if he'd been running his hands through it. He and Taru looked tired and rumpled, and she wondered how long they had been keeping their vigil and whether they had slept. Even Riqua looked worried.
Carina looked to Taru. "Where's Jonmarc?"
Taru and the others exchanged glances. "Malesh challenged Jonmarc for the title of Lord of Dark Haven. Jonmarc, Gabriel, and most of the vayash moru guard left at sunset yesterday. They haven't returned, and the sun has just set again." "How long do we have, to find a cure?" Carina asked.