Prince of Magic (26 page)

The sentinels no longer seemed downhearted. Wisely, they were still afraid of what awaited them, but none had turned away from Ariana and her destiny.

They'd been traveling four days, and the closer they moved to the mountains that were their first destination, the more anxious Ariana became. Was it possible that they could reach Keelia and her people before coming face to face with the enemy? Was it possible that her army could be complete before she confronted what was left of Ciro?

It was hard to picture the spoiled prince as a monster, but thanks to Diella, she knew that to be true. Would she even recognize him when the time came? Would she live long enough to see what had become of the boy who'd been the Isen Demon's first victim?

First victim in this war, at least.

He's too strong for you.

Perhaps. Perhaps not.

You are destined to die, witch. Doesn't that certainty make you want to run from this battle ? Doesn't it make you want to run into the arms of your lover?

Ariana glanced over her shoulder. Sian remained, as always, near the back of the column. Did he really think that she would not know he was near? He had underestimated her powers if he thought he could hide from her in such a way. Of course, he had underestimated her powers from the beginning.

I can't run from this.

Step aside and allow Ciro and his men to reign, and you might live a long life with your lover, hiding in the mountains perhaps, with a cave as your home. It would not be the fine life you have accustomed yourself to, but it would be life.

I thought Ciro scared you.

He did.

He does.

But so does the thought of disappearing into nothingness scare me.

Ariana rode gently down the road on the back of the gray horse that had become her friend and constant companion. Today she wore a green uniform, like those who surrounded her, with a wide-brimmed hat much like Sian's to keep the sun from her face. The white uniform she had made was dramatic, but it was not practical for every day. She would have need of it again, but not today. Perhaps not tomorrow, if she were lucky.

She understood Diella better than the dark soul had imagined was possible when she'd chosen to hitch a ride out of Level Thirteen. If what was left of the dead empress had been able to escape from Level Thirteen before Ariana's arrival, she would have. It was the empathy that all but invited the dark spirit in. Diella could not jump from Ariana's body to another at will. She could not move unless she found another empath whose soul was dangerously open. And if she left now, without the walls of Level Thirteen to contain her, what would she become?

Nothing. Nothing at all.

When we go into battle, you will fight with me, won't you?

I have no choice, witch. You know very well that if you die before I find another resting place, I will be lost. I'm not ready to be lost.

Neither am I.

Sian would be shocked if he knew that not only was Diella still with her, but they carried on frequent conversations and had even come to an uneasy truce.

He would be horrified to realize that Ariana had decided she needed something of the murderous empress within her in order to do all that had to be done.

Rain. Why was he not surprised? Sian had become accustomed to bad food, uncomfortable clothing, long hours in the saddle, and less than intelligent conversation among the sentinels—who seemed able to speak for extended periods of time about two subjects: women and liquor, neither of which was available to them on this march.

Now there was a gentle but steady rain. His hat kept the droplets from pelting his face, but water ran off the brim in streams that landed on his shoulders and down the front of his sentinel's vest. Like the others, he made sure his sword was stored where it would be kept dry.

There was not a word of complaint about the weather as they continued on. Nightfall was near, but it was not yet time to rest. Perhaps the others were accustomed to traveling in such weather—and worse. War did not stop for a change in the weather.

Of course, few of these men had known true war. A handful of the veterans had fought in the revolution twenty-five years ago. In more recent years there had been skirmishes here and there, small battles to fight, but since the War of the Beckyts had ended, there had been no true battle, so the younger soldiers were all but untested.

Ariana was leading an inexperienced army.

Even though the woman who led this small army no longer wore white, Sian spotted her easily. Not only were her stature and shape unique in this delegation, but her blond hair was as unruly as ever. There were many longhaired sentinels, and a few of them had fair hair. But none caught his eye as Ariana's did.

Was it possible that she was ready to forgive him? Would she ever be?

They stopped for the night, and the rain continued. As it was no longer clear and warm, a number of tents were quickly constructed. Those who were assigned the first watch would not be able to enjoy the shelter, not for a while, but those who would watch over the camp at a later hour quickly made use of the rough tents.

Sian was one of those who had been assigned to take the first watch. That suited him, rain or no rain, as it gave him the opportunity to see that Ariana was safely settled for the night.

Merin and two others very quickly threw up Ariana's tent, which was larger and sturdier than the others, as befitted a leader such as she. Sian watched, but continued to keep his distance. That was becoming increasingly difficult in a party of a mere forty-three. Ariana, Merin, her forty soldiers, and Sian.

He watched as Ariana disappeared into the tent, and breathed a sigh of relief. Two guards remained close to that tent, their only duty to make sure that she remained safe. The day would come when that task was beyond their capabilities, but tonight… tonight it was not.

Ariana opened the tent flap and said something to one of the guards, who nodded and immediately ran to Merin's tent. He spoke to Ariana's first in command, and Merin quickly exited. There was no urgency in his step, so nothing was wrong, but still… why had Ariana called to him? Sian's heart beat too hard. Was it Diella? Perhaps Ariana herself called to the puppy-like man with curling hair. Sian snorted softly as he took a few steps in the direction of Ariana's tent. Could he take the chance that Diella had plans to seduce Merin tonight? It was the first opportunity the party had had to make use of the tents, which meant it was the first night which offered any opportunity for privacy.

He waited a moment, hoping that perhaps he was wrong and they were speaking general to sentinel. Sister to brother.

Not likely.

After a few torturous minutes, Sian began to step briskly in that direction. If he made a fuss of some sort, Merin would have to exit Ariana's tent. And then what? He was not her keeper. He had no right to tell her what she could and could not do. In fact, he was at
her
command.

So why was he so incensed at the very idea of Ariana—or Diella—making use of Merin's body?

Before he moved too close, the tent flap moved and Merin exited. Sian breathed a sigh of relief. His imagination had gotten out of hand; that was all. He felt himself responsible for Ariana; that was why he'd reacted so. He turned about to reclaim his post, so it was several moments before he realized that Merin was walking not to his tent, but directly toward Sian.

"Sayre, is it?" Merin called when he had almost caught up with Sian. The rain seemed to fall harder.

They had met in the palace, but it was dark in this corner of the camp, and with the hat shadowing his face, there was no way Merin would recognize the enchanter he had been introduced to once. When he was sure he stood in the blackest of shadows, Sian turned to face Merin.

"Yes, sir. Sayre it is."

Merin cocked his head to one side as if attempting to see into the shadows. "Our sister wishes to speak with you."

"Our sister," Sian repeated.

"Ariana," Merin snapped impatiently.

"I am the lowliest of soldiers," Sian argued. "Surely another—"

"She asked for you," Merin interrupted.

"She does not know me," Sian responded in a cutting voice.

Even in the dark, Sian could see Merin's smile. "Our sister sent me to fetch the purple-eyed, hawk-nosed, eagle-eyed wizard who lurks about and rides at the end of the column each and every day."

Sian sighed, not bothering to argue that he was not the one Ariana had asked for. "What gave me away?"

"She has known since the second day that you were with us." Merin's jaw tightened. "I wanted to send you back to Arthes immediately, but Ariana insisted that if you were here, then you were meant to be with us, just like all the rest."

"And yet she waited until now to ask for me," Sian said tightly.

"Yes."

"What does she want?"

"I have no idea."

That was untrue. Merin obviously knew that he and Ariana had been romantically involved. No, sexually involved. Sian did not care for romance, and never would. With that knowledge, it was apparent that Merin thought Ariana to be lonely tonight.

And there was that tent and the resulting privacy to be considered.

Sian seriously doubted that was the case. Ariana had been very angry with him when she'd discovered the truth of the prophesy. Whatever reason compelled her to ask for him, it had nothing to do with their previous relationship.

He followed Merin to Ariana's tent. The rain was beginning to let up, but the ground was already muddy and slippery, and the night's chill was touched with a dampness that cut to the bone.

One of the guards held the tent flap open, and Merin indicated that Sian should go first. If anyone but Ariana was in there, he would have to consider that it might be a trap. He crouched down and entered. There was no light to speak of in the tent that sheltered Ariana, but he could see her well enough. From a distance, he had not been able to see how very tired she was.

Merin made as if to return to his own tent, but Ariana called him and asked him to join her for a moment. The tent was barely large enough for three, but it was minimally sufficient.

Without even the most basic of greeting for him, Ariana began to speak. "It is ridiculous for a talented enchanter to hide himself among us when we could be making use of his magic."

"In what way?" Merin asked sharply.

Ariana sighed. "Light. Give us light, enchanter."

Sian was glad of the opportunity to illuminate the tent so he could see Ariana more clearly. Yes, she was under great strain, and that strain showed too clearly in her tired eyes. Merin was surprised by the light, but not shocked. He knew something of magical ways apparently.

Ariana locked her eyes to Sian's. "We also need full access to anything you have discovered pertaining to the prophesy. Have you learned anything about the crystal dagger? Have you found a way to defeat the Isen Demon?"

"I must answer no to both those questions."

"Some of what I saw scribbled onto the prophesy seemed to be nonsense. Can you interpret it for me?"

"Some," Sian admitted. "But much of what my grandfather penned on his death bed is a mystery to me, as well as to you."

"I see." Ariana breathed deeply. "I had hoped for better answers, but all I ask of you is the truth. From this night forward, I will expect only the truth from you."

"And you will have it."

Merin, who listened without comment, had no way of knowing how meaningful the conversation had become.

Ariana continued. "From this night forward, you will be my wizard, my counsel. You will ride beside me, and stop pretending to be something you are not." She sounded only slightly angry. "Given what lies ahead, we cannot afford to ignore any advantage. You are an advantage to us, Sian."

He nodded, but remained silent. Ariana continued to stare at him. "Merin, you may go."

Merin did so, not without some obvious trepidation.

Ariana was silent for a long while after Merin departed. She studied Sian closely. She cut him with the accusations in her eyes. No, she had not forgiven him. Not at all.

"Diella isn't gone," she said softly when she finally spoke.

It was one of his worst fears, that the empress would somehow rise up. Still, he knew it was Ariana who spoke at this moment. "I will find a way to be rid of her, once and for all. I promise you."

"I do not want promises from you," Ariana said sharply. No, she had most certainly not forgiven him. "And I do not want Diella gone. I want her under control." A touch of desperation touched Ariana's voice. "That is what I need from you, enchanter, control."

"I don't know that I can give it to you."

"Try."

He owed Ariana more than he could ever repay. He wasn't certain that Diella could be controlled, but the least he could do was, as Ariana requested,
try
.

"If you move yourself into the proper state where all your energy is under your command, you should be able to isolate Diella and rid yourself of her once and for all. I should've insisted that you do that before you left the palace, as a precaution, but I was certain she was already gone." He'd been so wrapped up in Ariana's body, he had neglected his calling. It was his fault that Diella remained.

Ariana sat straight and tall, close to him and yet very far away. "You were right when you said that I do not have it in me to kill. I am a healer, and always have been, and to watch men I have led and come to care for fall, to kill with a sharp blade without stopping to consider the wounds I inflict, to take a living being's life and then turn to take another without so much as watching the first fall, is not in me, and yet it's what I must be prepared to do. I can't. Diella can. Diella and I together can—"

"Let me fight for you," Sian offered, unable to listen any longer. "Let me do what you cannot, and let's send that dark spirit out of you once and for all. If she takes control, she would gladly slit the throat of every man you call brother. She would happily kill these men who have come to trust you. To
love
you."