Lynan breathed in deeply with relief, but the breath froze when he heard Silona's laugh. At first he thought it came from in front of him, but then the grove itself seemed to take it up and the laughter surrounded him. Every tree and hedge became a reflection of her shape, every branch an arm, every gust of wind a breath from her fetid lungs. Terror swelled in him and he screamed.
Korigan woke with a start and knew instantly what had taken away her sleep. She was here, and Korigan could feel her presence as if the vampire was standing over her. She leaped out of her bed and rushed to Lynan's tent. The Red Hands on duty stepped aside for her and she entered. There was not enough light to see by, and she could hear no sound. It occurred to her that Lynan might be outside, and the thought almost panicked her. How would she find him? How could she protect him from Silona? At that moment she heard, as if from a great distance, a woman's voice saying Lynan's name. The sound of it was like ice in her brain, and her skin seemed to crawl in revulsion. Then she heard, close by, Lynan's voice answer.
'You shall never have them.'
The words were desperate. Following the direction of his voice she could see his dim outline on a cot.
Again from far away she heard Silona. 'What is it you desire the most, Lynan Rosetheme?' Korigan saw he was naked, and as she watched he became aroused. She surprised herself by being ashamed for his sake, and even as she went to him to wake him he pushed away with his arms at some invisible presence. Silona laughed, and the sound came from all around the tent. Korigan froze, more afraid than she had ever been before, and she struggled against it vainly until Lynan screamed. Suddenly she was afraid for herself no more, and she rushed to him.
'Lynan! Wake up!' She took him in her arms. He sat up, struggled against her, tried to push her way. The Red Hands came into the tent, confused and alarmed. They carried torches. 'Go!' she ordered them. 'Leave one of the torches, but go! He'll be alright!' They left without hesitation. They knew about Lynan's nightmares—seen by them as a great sickness that only someone great could suffer—and knew as well that Korigan often helped him.
She turned back to Lynan, trying to force him down. 'It's alright, I'm here! You're safe!'
His whole body shuddered. In the flickering light she saw his skin was shiny with sweat. His eyes opened and stared, terrified, at Korigan.
'It's me,' she said as soothingly as possible, fighting to keep her voice calm.
'Silona!' he whimpered and scuttled backwards out of her arms.
'No, it is me, Korigan—'
'Silona!' he said again, louder, and the fear in his voice tore at Korigan's heart. She grasped his hands and used all her strength to pull him back so she could wrap her arms around him and force his head against her breasts. 'Listen! Do you hear my heart? Silona has no heart. I am no vampire.' Still he struggled against her. 'Lynan, listen to me! I am Korigan! I am your queen!' She said the words so quickly they came out before she could stop them, and in shock almost let go of the prince.
'It's true,' she said, but to herself more than to Lynan. Determination filled her and she grasped Lynan's head in her hands and kissed him on the mouth. He stopped struggling against her. She opened her eyes and saw the terror in his eyes drain away to be replaced by recognition.
He pulled away from her, gently. 'Korigan?' He looked around him, dazed. 'It was her—'
She dropped her hands and did not know what to do with them. 'I know,' she said falteringly. 'I heard her, and I saw you fight her off.'
'What…?' The question died on his lips, and he would not meet her gaze.
Korigan did not know what to say either. Since her father's death had left her queen at age thirteen she had had to make choices to secure her throne and advance her people's interests, and every time she had seen clearly the consequences of her action; but this time she was confronted by a choice that might be the most important in her life and yet she could not see which path would best serve either her throne or her people. All she knew, and this with utter certainty, was what she wanted, and realising that she also realised she had left herself no choice.
'It is too late for regret,' she said quietly, again more to herself than to Lynan.
'Korigan?'
She closed her eyes, leaned forward and kissed him a second time, but without holding him to her. Too quick! she told herself, knowing now he would reject her a second time. But then his lips parted slightly and he kissed her back. His arms moved around her, embracing and capturing her at the same time. For the first time in her life Korigan had no thought for her throne or her people. For the first time in her life she thought about nothing except how she wanted something for herself, and how glorious it felt.
It was not yet dawn when Jenrosa woke. She left her tent and made for the small creek she had seen the day before. It was no more than two paces wide and a hand's-breadth deep, but it would do. She knelt in front of the creek and scooped a hole out of the dirt nearby, then used her cupped hands to fill the hole with water. She waited for dawn and for the water to settle, then gently broke the surface with the tip of one finger and watched as the ripples spread out, each catching the sun's light and turning into golden rings. She sighed deeply and said: 'The past is the same but the present has no boundary.'
The moment she uttered the last word the rings of gold turned to rings of blood, and then all the water in the hole turned red as if from some dreadful infection. Jenrosa gasped and quickly stood up. She felt nauseous and bent over to vomit, but could only dry retch. She stood up again and wiped spittle from her mouth, tears flowing from her eyes.
What is wrong with me? What have I become?
She could not believe—would not believe—that she was seeing the future. Of course there would be blood, she told herself, they were in the middle of a war. She did not have to be a magiker to predict that.
Then what was happening? Why was everything she did tainted with blood? She woke up every morning tasting it on the back of her throat. She had dreams of rivers of blood cascading down the streets of Kendra, so much blood it could fill an ocean.
Deep in her mind she already half knew the answer, but refused to drag it up to full awareness. It had to do with Lynan and Silona, but she did not want to stare the truth in the face. Not yet. Not until she was sure.
All my fault, she thought. Everything is my fault.
She started sobbing, at first from self-pity, but then in real sorrow as the memory of Kumul welled up inside her and so overwhelmed her she fell to all fours in the dirt. Her tears flowed now, falling off her cheeks into the hole of bloody water, and as they did the water cleared, becoming like crystal. When Jenrosa saw this she rested back on her heels and forced herself to control her grief. She told herself that Kumul would have been ashamed of her, and that finally brought her up.
She touched the water again with the tip of her finger. 'The past is the same but the present has no boundary,' she said. And this time the ripples carried neither gold nor blood. She watched intently, trying to gather meaning from the images that flashed in the expanding rings, one after the other, and realised they were telling her the same story. Thousands of Chetts lay dead in a long green valley somewhere in the Oceans of Grass. 'The same story,' she said aloud. 'So this must be the past.' The last image showed a pennant with a flying bird on it. At first she thought it was the kestrel of the Rosethemes, but then realised it was like no bird she had ever seen before.
We have a new enemy, she told herself. And they are already among us.