Adele placed one finger over her lips. "I won't let them take you. Whatever protection I can give you, is yours. But as for Jagu, if he's already in the clutches of Inquisitor Visant, that may prove rather more difficult."

"There is one more mission that I have been charged to carry out." Celestine slipped Enguerrand's letter out from her bodice and handed it to Adele. "But please, dear Adele, steel yourself, for it is extraordinary and unexpected news."

Adele looked quizzically at her and unrolled the letter, smoothing it out on her lap to read it. Celestine watched anxiously, fearing that, given the young queen's fragile condition, the news might prove too much of a shock. She saw Adele's eyes widen, then fill with tears. She gazed at Celestine. "He's alive? You've seen him? Is he well?" She wiped away a tear, laughing. "Look at us, crying like two silly schoolgirls!"

"He's recovering from a fever, but he is well, considering how close he came to drowning," said Celestine, joining in the tearful laughter. "But I wondered how this news might affect his majesty, King Ilsevir..."

Adele's expression became distant, almost wistful, and the laughter faded. "Ilsevir..." she repeated. "There cannot be two kings. What will happen now? This could lead to civil war." She looked down at her brother's letter again. "Enguerrand asks me to say nothing of this until he makes his return. Very well. His secret is safe with me." She scrunched the paper up into a ball and tossed it onto the logs in the grate. As it flared up, the door suddenly burst open and a white-haired man in black robes came in, followed by four armed Guerriers.

"What is the meaning of this intrusion, Maistre Donatien?" Adele could sound just as intimidating as her mother when she chose to. "How dare you disturb me without even having the courtesy to knock?"

Celestine instinctively moved closer to Adele.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, your majesty, but this young woman is very dangerous." Donatien seemed not in the least deterred by Adele's reaction. "I have no idea how she gained access to your private apartments, but as she is known to practice the Forbidden Arts, I can only a.s.sume that-"

"If you mean Demoiselle de Joyeuse, then I have granted her my protection." Adele stared at Maistre Donatien, as if daring him to challenge her authority. "My royal royal protection." protection."

"What's all the fuss about?" A door opened on the far side of the fireplace and Ilsevir appeared, in a robe de chambre of dove-grey brocade. Celestine instantly dropped into a deep curtsy and Donatien bowed. "Grand Maistre, why have you brought armed men into our private salon?"

"Sire, I apologize for the disturbance-" began Donatien but he broke off as Adele suddenly sank back onto the sofa. Celestine, alarmed, rose to hurry to her side.

"Stay away from the queen!" shouted Donatien. Two of the Guerriers seized Celestine by the arms, restraining her.

"No," said Adele faintly. "She... is not to be... harmed..."

"Adele, what's wrong?" Ilsevir took her hand and started to pat it ineffectually. But Adele's eyes had closed and she did not answer his question.

Donatien turned on Celestine. "You've laid some kind of sorcery on the queen, you witch!"

"I've done nothing of the kind!" Celestine cried.

"Adele?" Ilsevir was anxiously calling his wife's name. "Get help, Donatien! Summon the royal physician."

Faie, help me. Help me now. But Celestine's silent plea went unanswered and as servants came running in response to the king's cries, the Guerriers began to drag her out of the apartment. But Celestine's silent plea went unanswered and as servants came running in response to the king's cries, the Guerriers began to drag her out of the apartment.

"Demoiselle, you're under arrest," said Donatien curtly. "Take the witch away. Take her to the Forteresse."

CHAPTER 8.

"Prince Nagazdiel is here?" Sardion's eyes glittered. Through Nagazdiel's vision Rieuk could see the dark desire burning in the Arkhan's heart. "You've brought him to me at last?" He came closer to Rieuk, his hands reaching out as if to embrace the Drakhaoul within him. "My dread lord," he said, staring at Rieuk, through Rieuk. "At last I can bid you welcome. My family has watched over Ondhessar for centuries, waiting for this day to come." And then to Rieuk's amazement, he dropped to his knees and prostrated himself. "I offer myself to you, my prince. Please use my body as your vessel in this mortal world."

"Lord Arkhan, is that wise?" Rieuk began. "Is your body strong enough? Can your blood sustain a Drakhaoul?"

Sardion glared at him with his wild, hungry eyes. "You've fulfilled your purpose, Emissary Mordiern. I have no more need of you now."

"Sardion of Enhirre, is this truly what you want?" Nagazdiel spoke through Rieuk, his voice adding a deep, dark richness to Rieuk's natural tone. Nagazdiel spoke through Rieuk, his voice adding a deep, dark richness to Rieuk's natural tone. "And once we are bonded, you will do my bidding?" "And once we are bonded, you will do my bidding?"

"I was born to serve you, my lord."

Rieuk looked down with contempt at the man who had held him so long in thrall, groveling at his feet.

"Then come closer." Rieuk felt the Drakhaoul concentrating all his energy to transfer himself from his body to the Arkhan's. The Arkhan began to move toward him, as if in a trance, until they stood close together, forehead pressed to forehead.

The Drakhaoul's dark energy came flooding up through Rieuk, pouring out through his mouth and into Sardion's, in a hot, shimmering flood.

The instant the Drakhaoul had left his body, Rieuk slumped to the floor, drained. For a moment everything faded to a blur. Then he heard laughter; low at first, then rising to a manic pitch. Sardion had thrown back his head and was standing gazing down at his outstretched hands as if he had never seen them before, his whole body shaking with triumphant laughter. Little flickers of fiery energy crackled from his fingertips.

"This is-astounding! I feel so strong. So powerful!"

Rieuk caught a telltale flash of dark crimson in Sardion's eyes as the Arkhan flexed his shoulders, evidently relishing his newfound strength. Sardion extended one hand, pointing his index finger at a tall vase of beaten bronze, loosing a bolt of daemonic energy. The vase glowed white-hot, and suddenly collapsed in on itself, reduced to a pool of molten metal.

"This is the power I was born to wield!" cried Sardion ecstatically. "We will go to Ondhessar. We will show the Rosecoeurs who is the true master of Enhirre." And without a backward glance at Rieuk, he threw open the doors and strode away, calling for his guards.

"My lord, be careful, I beg of-" Rieuk checked himself. Why should he care what became of Sardion? Headstrong, cruel, impulsive, the Arkhan only cared about fulfilling his own ambitions. He had sent Oranir into the Rift as a living sacrifice to Nagazdiel, not caring what became of him, as long as he achieved his heart's desire.

"Ran," Rieuk whispered, focusing on his true purpose. He went straight to Sardion's desk, tugging open drawers, frantically searching for the ebony casket in which the Arkhan had placed the new Lodestar. He could barely detect the crystal's presence; within the gold-veined marble walls of Sardion's apartments, its clear vibrations were muted. With his good eye closed, he searched blind, relying on his senses to lead him to it, just as, long ago in Karantec, he had been drawn to Azilis's Lodestar. His heart was thudding hard against his breastbone; he could be discovered at any moment.

His fingers closed on a wooden box hidden in the depths of a drawer. He could feel the faint pulse within, shivering through the carved ebony. He drew out the box and opened it. Nestling within lay the crystal purity of the Lodestar-his Lodestar, that he had fashioned with such care deep in the Rift. Lodestar, that he had fashioned with such care deep in the Rift.

A burst of aethyric fire, red as blood, lit the darkening sky above Ondhessar. Rieuk looked back over his shoulder as he made his way back to the Hidden Valley, feeling the ground trembling ominously beneath his feet.

"How long can Sardion's body sustain such an outpouring of power?" he muttered. "He hasn't a drop of mage blood in his veins." He had to get to Ondhessar as soon as he could.

"Rieuk?" Lord Estael hurried out to greet him. Aqil and Tilath hovered in the doorway of the Tower, watching. "What's happening at Ondhessar?"

"Sardion," Rieuk said, trying to regain his breath. "He's taking his vengeance on the Enhirrans." He thrust the ebony casket into Estael's hands. "Please-whatever happens-guard this with your life until I return. It's the Lodestar."

"You stole it from the Arkhan?" Estael said, frowning.

"It was never Sardion's in the first place." Why was Estael still so obdurate in his support of the Arkhan? "Sardion has treated us all like dirt. It's time to make a stand against him. It's time to break free."

"Are you mad?"

"And it's my only chance to save Oranir." Rieuk pushed past the elder magi, making for the subterranean way that led back into Azilis's shrine.

"Rieuk, come back. Come back!"

He heard their voices calling after him down into the deep shaft but ignored them, pressing on into the darkness.

He had failed to save Imri. He had been too young, too inexperienced, to defend him against Linnaius. But he was older and maybe a little wiser, and he was d.a.m.ned if he was going to lose Oranir too.

Rieuk came out by the magi's concealed door into the empty shrine. Candles of creamy wax were burning in the little alcoves, and a bunch of fragrant white lilies lay where Azilis's statue had stood. Strange that the Rosecoeurs should still keep her memory alive here even though they had stripped the shrine of her precious relics.

He felt another burst of aethyric power shiver through the fort. He heard voices moaning, crying out in pain. The ground trembled beneath his feet again and a little spatter of stones fell down onto his head.

If that madman's not checked, he'll destroy the very place he was trying to preserve.

Rieuk climbed the steps that led up to the surface, back pressed against the wall, until he reached the entrance to the courtyard. Night had fallen, but torches illuminated the darkness, revealing a ghastly sight. Bodies lay everywhere, Allegondans in the grey uniform of the Order of the Rosecoeur. Some, still living, tried to push themselves up and crawl to safety. But the Arkhan's guards moved among them, mercilessly thrusting their spears into any Allegondan they pa.s.sed, living or dead. Others swarmed up onto the ramparts, tearing down the Rosecoeurs' flags. And through the carnage stalked the Arkhan himself, his eyes aflame with Nagazdiel's power, gazing down at his victims with a triumphant smile on his lips.

"Ondhessar is yours, Lord Arkhan!" Sardion's captain of the guards went down on one knee before him, holding up the bloodstained standard.

"Burn their flags," Sardion ordered. "And strip the bodies. Cast them out into the desert and let the jackals feast upon them." He turned toward the entrance to the shrine and Rieuk shrank back inside as the fiery eyes scanned the darkness.

"And now it's time to reclaim Azilis's birthplace."

Rieuk retreated as the Arkhan made his way into the shrine.

About halfway down, Sardion stumbled, and one of the guards caught hold of him, asking anxiously, "Are you all right, Lord Arkhan?"

"Let me be!" Sardion pushed the supporting arm away and set out again down the stairs. Rieuk flattened himself against the wall, watching as the Arkhan entered the empty shrine alone.

"Where is my daughter?" Nagazdiel's voice rang out, harsh as the beating of a funeral gong. " Nagazdiel's voice rang out, harsh as the beating of a funeral gong. " Why have you not protected her, as you promised to? Your ancestors made a blood oath to keep Azilis safe within this shrine. And now she is gone!" Why have you not protected her, as you promised to? Your ancestors made a blood oath to keep Azilis safe within this shrine. And now she is gone!"

The Arkhan began to totter across the floor of the shrine, his hands clutched to his throat as if he were choking. A strange, horrible sound issued from his mouth: a gargling, strangled cry.

"H-help me." His bloodshot eyes, bulging in their sockets, gazed at Rieuk in mute appeal, one hand clawed out toward him. "Rieuk... Mordiern..."

But Rieuk could only watch helplessly as the Arkhan dropped to his knees. Sardion's face was altering: The color was fast draining from him, to be replaced by a deathly, livid hue. His skin began to shrivel and contract. And still the agonized gargling cry went on, slowly fading to a wheezing death rattle.

"This mortal body is too weak to sustain me."

As Sardion crashed forward onto his face, Nagazdiel issued from his twitching frame and entered Rieuk once more. "Now take me to my daughter," "Now take me to my daughter," the Drakhaoul whispered in Rieuk's mind. the Drakhaoul whispered in Rieuk's mind. "Hurry." "Hurry."

Rieuk felt the power of the Lord of the Realm of Shadows pulsing through him. He turned as the guards came running down the stairs. At his feet lay the Arkhan's body, nothing more than a twisted, desiccated sh.e.l.l, as if Nagazdiel's presence had sucked all the living Essence from his veins.

"What have you done to the Arkhan, Magus?" The captain of the guards came forward, leveling his spear at Rieuk, waving on the others to follow. "Arrest that Emissary!"

The guards began to advance on Rieuk. The panicked cry, "The Arkhan's been a.s.sa.s.sinated!" went echoing through the shrine.

" We're wasting time here. We're wasting time here." Rieuk heard the frustration simmering in Nagazdiel's voice. "Ormas, lend me your wings." "Ormas, lend me your wings."

"Wings?"

Rieuk backed away from the guards. It felt as though a whirlwind was unraveling within him, channeling upward from the core of his being to concentrate in his back and shoulders. A tremendous pressure was building in his body. Any second now, the pressure would prove too great and his body would explode into fragments of flesh and bone. Something was trying to burst out through his spine. He gave a cry of agony as the great smoke-black wings unfurled. And then, as if he had always known how to fly, he was lifting from the ground and winging slowly up through the stairwell, aiming for the archway that opened into the courtyard.

"Free. Finally free at last!" Nagazdiel's cry shuddered through his body. The Drakhaoul prince had synthesized Ormas's abilities with his own to transform Rieuk's body; he had drawn out Ormas's spirit wings and trans.m.u.ted them so that he could fly once more. Rieuk could feel Nagazdiel's wild delight as he soared up into the star-studded sky. The Drakhaoul had been imprisoned in the shadows for years without number; to be flying unfettered once more filled him with ecstasy. Nagazdiel's cry shuddered through his body. The Drakhaoul prince had synthesized Ormas's abilities with his own to transform Rieuk's body; he had drawn out Ormas's spirit wings and trans.m.u.ted them so that he could fly once more. Rieuk could feel Nagazdiel's wild delight as he soared up into the star-studded sky. The Drakhaoul had been imprisoned in the shadows for years without number; to be flying unfettered once more filled him with ecstasy.

Far below, the ground was fast receding as he rose higher toward the stars. Ondhessar looked like a child's toy fort against the expanse of the endless desert. But as Nagazdiel turned toward the north, Rieuk heard him say, "She's fading... there's not much time." "She's fading... there's not much time."

And as they flew onward, Rieuk began to notice that they were leaving a trail of smoky darkness in their wake, as though every beat of the Drakhaoul prince's great wings was spreading the dust of the Realm of Shadows over the land beneath.

"What's that darkness over there? Is it an oncoming storm?" Enguerrand pointed toward the southern horizon, shivering. "Can't you feel it? There's a taint of Nagazdiel's presence in the air."

"But how can that be?" Eugene looked over the side of the sky craft and saw what Enguerrand was pointing at. The clarity of the blue sky was smirched, as if clouds of smoke were billowing across the Southern Ocean toward Francia. "The Serpent Gate was destroyed; Gavril and I made sure that it was sealed forever. What do you think, Kaspar?"

Linnaius was shading his eyes to look too, keeping his hand on the tiller of the craft to keep it steady. He shook his grey head. "If Prince Nagazdiel has left the Shadow Realm, then that can mean only one thing. The Rift is widening and the balance between our world and the next is breaking down."

"The balance?"

"Azilis, the Eternal Singer, has always watched over the Rift between the mortal world and the Ways Beyond. But since she left the Rift, that balance has broken down."

Eugene scratched his head, bemused. "You know very well that I'm no expert on the metaphysical or the mythological. Could you explain it to me in plain terms, Kaspar?"

"If the balance is not reestablished, then the chaos of the Realm of Shadows will bleed into this world and-"

"And unless Azilis returns to the Rift in time, it will be too late to save our world," said Enguerrand. "The last chapter of The Book of Galizur. The Book of Galizur. The end of all things and the return to chaos." The end of all things and the return to chaos."

"The end of the world?" Eugene echoed, stricken. If it really was the end of all things, he wanted to be with Astasia and his children. He lapsed into troubled silence, wondering why in spite of all the ordeals he had undergone to prevent the coming of Nagazdiel, some crazed fool had somehow managed to set the Drakhaoul Prince free from his prison.

"I should have taken matters into my own hands." Linnaius was muttering to himself. "I should have taken Celestine to Ondhessar. And now it may be too late."

Even as Linnaius was speaking, a thin, mean wind began to whine around the craft, bringing with it a fine, dark dust that stung the skin and made the eyes water. Eugene, shielding his face, looked back again. "The darkness is gaining on us, Kaspar. Can you go any faster?"

"Faster than Prince Nagazdiel?" Was that an ironic smile lighting Linnaius's silver eyes? "I'll do what I can." And Eugene saw him close his eyes, pressing his fingertips to his forehead, muttering beneath his breath.

The craft shuddered and bucked as a cold current of air shot toward them. Linnaius opened his eyes, looking upward.

"So you came at last, old friend," Eugene heard him whisper to the empty sky above them. And suddenly Eugene saw it-a powerful translucent sky dragon, snaking straight toward them, its silver eyes radiant as stars.

"What is this monster?" Eugene cried.

"You can see him?" Linnaius's wispy brows raised in surprise. "This is Azhkanizkael-a wouivre, wouivre, or air serpent. I suppose you could call him my familiar. He is stubborn and proud these days, and doesn't always answer my call." As if in reply, the or air serpent. I suppose you could call him my familiar. He is stubborn and proud these days, and doesn't always answer my call." As if in reply, the wouivre wouivre tossed its great whiskered head and, coiling itself around the craft, it shot off at tremendous speed through the clouds. tossed its great whiskered head and, coiling itself around the craft, it shot off at tremendous speed through the clouds.

CHAPTER 9.

Alain Friard knew himself to be a steady, even-tempered man, not easily roused to anger. But the sounds he heard coming from the Inquisition interrogation cells that rainy night induced feelings of such deep disgust that he knew he must act or lose his mind.

He went directly to the officers' quarters and, without even knocking, flung open Kilian Guyomard's door. Kilian was lying on his bed, still in his shirt and breeches. Friard thought he could detect the smell of strong spirits.

"What do you want?" Kilian asked sullenly.

"I may not be one of the elite order of the Rosecoeur," said Friard, barely able to conceal his anger, "but I am still your superior officer. Come with me."

Kilian stretched his arms up over his head, yawning widely.