Lion of Macedon

and wished she had chosen another day for the journey. For beside him stood Olympias.

Sadness struck Derae like a blow.

The mother of the Dark God!

The mother of Parmenion's child.

Hatred touched her and her vision swam. 'Help me, Lord of All Harmony,' she prayed.

She watched Olympias walk forward into Philip's embrace, saw the momentary spasm of jealousy on Parmenion's face.

'What did we do to you, my love?' she thought, remembering her years with Tamis as they had battled to prevent the conception of the Dark God. According to the old seeress, Parmenion was the Sword of the Source, the one man capable of preventing Kadmilos from being born in the flesh. How vain they were. . and how stupid. Tamis had secretly manipulated events in Parmenion's life, creating in him a warrior like no other in the civilized world: a fighter, a killer, a strategist beyond compare. All this so that he would be ready to destroy the Dark God's plans. Instead, the opposite had been achieved.

Derae's anger grew. For a moment she wanted nothing more than to use her power to obliterate the babe in the belly of the new Queen. Frightened by the impulse, she fled back to the temple.

And here her anger turned to sadness, for she floated above her own body, staring down at the careworn face and the silver-streaked hair. Once she had been a beauty like Olympias. Once Parmenion had loved her. Not any more. No, she thought, if he could see you now he would turn away, his eyes drawn to the youthful skin and the earthly joys of girls like Olympias.

Returning to her body, she slept for two hours.

Leucion awoke her. 'I have prepared a bath for you,' he told her. 'And I bought three new gowns for you at the market.'

'I need no gowns. And I have no coin.'

'The clothes you have are theadbare, Derae. You are beginning to look like a beggar. Anyway, I have my own money."

For a moment only she considered rebuking him, but dismissed the thought. Leucion was a warrior who had chosen to travel to the Temple to serve her. He asked for nothing in return.

'Why do you stay?' she asked him, her spirit eyes scanning his hawk-like face, so stern and strong.

'Because I love you,' he answered. 'You know that. I have said it often enough.'

'It is my vanity that makes me continue to ask,' she admitted, 'but I feel guilty, for there will never be any more than we have. We are brother and sister, now and always.'

'It is more than I deserve.'

She traced a line on his cheek, her finger running the length of his jaw. 'You deserve far more.

You must not let your mind drift back to our first meeting- that was not you. There are forces in the world which use us, abuse us, discard us. You were possessed, Leucion.'

'I know,' said the silver-haired warrior. 'I too have studied the Mysteries. But the Dark One can only enhance what is already there. I almost raped you, Derae, and I would have killed you. I did not know there was such darkness in my soul.'

'Hush! There is Darkness in every soul, and Light also. For you the Light was — ultimately -

stronger. Be proud. You have saved my life, and remain my only friend.'

Leucion sighed, then smiled. 'It is enough for me,' he lied.

The warrior prepared a fire and left Derae sitting before it, her thoughts distant, her spirit eyes watching the dancing flames.

'I need help,' she whispered. 'Where are you, Tamis?'

The fire surged to life, the flames dancing high, twirling in on themselves to form a woman's face. Derae lifted her hands, soft light spilling from her fingers and surrounding her with a shield of brightness.

'You do not need protection against me,' said the face in the fire. 'And you can no longer call upon Tamis. I am Cassandra.'

The face became more solid, framed by hair of flickering flames. Warily Derae let the spell of protection fall.

'You are the Trojan priestess?'

'Once upon a distant day,' answered Cassandra, 'I warned Tamis of her folly. But she did not listen. When Parmenion sired the Dark God, Tamis was filled with despair. Her soul is far from us now, broken like crystal, fragmented like the moon on water.'

'Can you help her?'

'No. Though all others forgive her, she cannot forgive herself. Perhaps in time she will return to the Light. For myself I doubt it. But what of you, young Spartan? How can I help you?'

'Tell me how to fight the evil that is coming?'

'My gift in life — if a gift it can be called — was to speak the truth and never to be believed.

That was hard, Derae. But I obeyed the Source in all things. Tamis was corrupted by pride. She believed she alone was the instrument to bring down Kadmilos. Pride is not a gift of the Source.

In teaching you the ways of the Mysteries, Tamis instilled in you a sense of that same pride. My advice is to do nothing. Continue to heal, to work with those in pain, to love much.'

'I cannot do that,' Derae admitted. 'I was as much to blame as Tamis. I must at least try to make it right.'

'I know,' said Cassandra sadly. 'Then use your mind. You have seen Aida and her wickedness. Do you not think she also has seen you? If she is prepared to destroy a Persian child, will she not — even more powerfully — seek to destroy you?'

'She and I have met twice,' said Derae. 'She has not the power to overcome me.'

'There speaks pride,' answered the face in the fire. 'But Aida has many servants and can call upon spirits, demons if you will. They have the power. Believe that, Derae!'

The fear returned and Derae felt the cold breeze from the curtained window behind her. 'What can I do?' she whispered.

'All that a human can do. Fight and pray, pray and fight. Yet if you fight, Aida wins, for to fight successfully you must kill, and in killing there is the joy of the Dark, touching, corrupting, changing.'

'Then I should let her kill me?'

'That is not what I am saying. The battle between Light and Dark is not without complexity. Follow your instincts, Derae. But I advised you to use your mind. Think of what Aida must do in order for her dream to be fulfilled. There is one great enemy she must kill.'

'Parmenion?'

'There speaks the voice of love,' said Cassandra. 'Not Parmenion. Who is the great enemy, Derae?'

'I don't know. How many men and women are in the world? How can I see them all, follow all their futures?'

'Think of a fortress, with high walls. Impregnable. Where would the enemy most wish to be?'

'Inside,' answered Derae.

'Yes,' Cassandra agreed. 'Now use your mind.'

'The child!' whispered Derae.

'The golden child,' Cassandra confirmed. 'Two souls in one body, the Dark and the Light. As long as the spirit of the child lives, Kadmilos can never truly conquer. There is a bird, Derae, that builds no nest. It lays its egg in the nest of another, alongside other eggs. When it hatches it is larger than the other chicks, and one by one it pushes them from the nest to fall to their deaths on the ground below. It does this until it is the only survivor.'

'And Kadmilos will push out the child's soul? Where will it go? How can I protect it?'

'You cannot, my dear; you have no link to it. When the birth is close the child's spirit will be thrown into the Underworld, the Caverns of Hades, the Void. There it will burn like a bright flame

— for a little while.'

'What then?'

'Its brightness will summon the creatures of the Dark and they will destroy it.'

'There must be a way!' protested Derae, pushing herself to her feet. 'I cannot believe it can end like this!' Walking to the window, she felt the breeze on her face and struggled for calm.

'You say I have no link,' she said at last, turning back to the face in the fire. 'Who does?'