Chapter 1

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Dynan Telaerin closed the door to his rooms. He stood in the wide hall in the Royal quarters of the Telaerin Palace. He was home. It was approaching midday and he felt each one of the hours he’d been up the night before. They had just finished getting Marc Talryn settled into bed after his long struggle. Dynan looked at his twin brother, Dain, who didn’t seem like he was there at all.

But he was alive, a miracle there, and he seemed the same, despite the exhaustion that marked his face. He was bruised and scrapped, but they both were. Blond, blue-eyed, identical. Dain was a little thinner from spending the last two years in a cell. Dynan pulled in a breath of relief that it was no longer and then he frowned, glancing to the King’s door across the hall.

“What is that smell?”

Allie Ahreld and Ralion Blaise almost cringed when Dynan turned to them for the answer, though he suspected what it was already. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to hear it confirmed. The two men didn’t appear to want to answer. Like Dain, they both seemed on the verge of collapse, but they were both wound up and tense, as if they didn’t quite believe the battle had been won.

“It’s Kamien,” Ralion said. Allie looked ill. “We found him ... yesterday? I don’t know what day it was. He’s been in there a while.”

“Why? I mean ... never mind.” Dynan shook his head and walked across the wide hall to the door of the King’s quarters. The others followed reluctantly. He supposed it didn’t matter why. He could guess why after getting the basic gist from Dain about everything that had happened since the landing on Cobalt, hardly four days ago, and the terrible struggle that ensued to destroy Maralt Adaeryn. Which they managed to do. Barely. “Open the door.”

“You really don’t want to see this, Dynan,” Ralion said. “It’s been witnessed and all, so there’s no need ... All right. Open the door, Allie.”

Allie didn’t want to, but did as he was told, stepping back quickly as the door swung open. Dynan looked at them for a moment. “You don’t have to come in.”

Ralion nodded. Allie couldn’t have even if asked, but Dain shook his head. “I’ll be all right. It’s not something you want to see by yourself anyway.”

Ralion frowned at that. “When did you—”

Dain stopped him with a look. “I killed him, Ralion. I’ve seen it before.”

“You did? Oh. We all thought Maralt did it.”

“Same difference,” Dain muttered and moved into the room.

“You know what, Ralion?” Dynan said. “I’ll let you know if we need any more of your help.”

Dynan turned from him, wondering at his attitude. He’d noticed all the way up the stairs while they carried Marc, finally collapsed after his ordeal, how Ralion stayed away from Dain, hardly looked at him, and seemed extremely uncomfortable to be around him at all.

Ralion, Dynan thought angrily, needed to realize and accept that Dain couldn’t have done anything differently in the Throne Room or afterward. He could accept that or find somewhere else to call home, and Dynan intended to make that clear to his old guard.

Snow, blown off the roof, swirled in through open windows, bringing with it a chill that deepened the ache in his arm. Every available window, it seemed, had been opened. He was shaking from the cold when he found Dain, over in an interior, windowless study. Dynan turned quickly from the dead stare that met him. Kamien was unrecognizable. The smell of rotting meat filled the room to the point the air wasn’t breathable. The jeweled dagger protruded grotesquely from his chest and Dynan wasn’t prepared to feel sorrow and pity.

Dain didn’t move, looking down at Kamien for a long time. The smell didn’t seem to bother him. Dynan thought he was going to be sick from it.

“I had more reason to want to kill him than most,” Dain said quietly. “He knew I was alive and knew I was with Maralt on Muri, stuck in a dungeon cell, but he didn’t deserve to die like this. Or be left like this.”

“Maybe. He was a pawn, just like so many others. I keep wondering if we could have done something differently, if that would have kept him from going to Maralt. That was his choice though.”

“You think so?”

Dynan nodded, pulling Dain out of the room and closing the door behind him. He needed to find a window and moved across to the long hall that ran almost the entire length of the wing. The draft of air cleaned away the smell of death. Outside, there was a blinding white blanket of snow covering the courtyard. Drifts mounted against the guest wing halfway up the bottom row of windows. The colonnade that cut across between the two wings of the building was impassible.

“It’s easy to forget now that Maralt wasn’t nearly so powerful then as he got to be later. Kamien wasn’t forced to be his friend. All he had to do was say no to him and he didn’t. After that, Maralt had him.”

“And a lot of other people.”

Dynan turned, looking down the hall that eventually led back to the bedchamber and private parlor. Another chill shook him. This one was caused by memory and the certainty of Kamien’s death that left no one standing in the way of the Cobalt Throne.

The King’s private parlor had been refurbished, down to the carpet on the floor. The panel above the marble mantle remained, though the painting that hid it had been changed.

“Thought a bit too much of himself too,” Dain said, looking up at the full portrait of Kamien. Dynan smiled for a second while he tried to remember the access code to the panel. “Do you want Allie to come back here and do this?”

“Like we can get him in here. What happened when they found him?” he asked, trying another code from some very dim memory. He got that one wrong too while he listened as Dain told him how Maralt had learned that Marc knew who he was, and come after him.

“I was still with Marc, but he didn’t know it. I was still hiding, I guess. Ralion tried to stop Maralt from finding us. Didn’t work. That’s when Maralt took the part of me that Marc had. And when me and me ended up in the same space together, we got slammed back together. That was ... weird. Marc ended up having to leave me with Maralt.”

“He left you?”

“He didn’t have a choice. It was better that he got out before the anethinol took hold, but Maralt and I were inside me on a drug meant to keep us both from concentrating, only it didn’t quite work that way. I didn’t think I was going to make it through that one.” Dain shook his head, closing his eyes briefly. “Bastard.”

“He’s dead, Dain. Really dead. Just as dead as Kamien.”

“I don’t think his memory will ever be.”

A click startled them both as Dynan finally found the right code and the panel slid open. He looked at his brother, then at the crown nestled on a plush deep blue cushion. “Memories fade given time. Ten years from now, that’s all he’ll be. A distant memory.”

Dain didn’t answer to that, nodding to the crown instead, lined with sable fur, its arches encrusted with countless glittering gems; sapphires, emeralds and diamonds. “Finally yours.”

Dain smiled at him while Dynan swallowed down the sudden fear that rose to choke him. “I’m ecstatic. Really.” He frowned at a rolled parchment resting beside the crown. He drew it out, almost afraid to see who had left it there for him to find. “It’s from Kamien.”

“Kamien? That’s something Maralt didn’t know about then. Maybe he found a little resistance there at the end. What does it say?”

Dynan carefully unwound the paper, sitting down as he read. Dain joined him on the couch facing their half-brother’s portrait. “Dynan, if you’re reading this now, here in my rooms, then it’s likely that I’m dead. I don’t begrudge you the satisfaction you doubtless feel right now. After what I’ve done, you have every right to hate me. I can only hope that with my death, Maralt Adaeryn is dead too, if he can even be killed. If he lives, you must know by now what a terrible threat he is, not just to Cobalt, but all of Brittallia. I know now that Maralt never intended for me to keep the crown, but take it for himself. I was a fool to ever trust him. That I allowed him to use me so easily is the single greatest mistake of my life and I’ve died paying for it. You may die paying for it too, if he’s still alive. Kill him at all cost. He is evil beyond imagining. You may have to kill Dain too, the Gods forgive me. Maralt has done something to him, using him as he uses everyone, and if he can control Dain, he can control anyone.

“Do you remember the last night in Father’s office when I told you that you would make a fine King, that you were more suited for it than I? It was the truth and I meant it. I almost warned you that night, of what Maralt intended. I think now if I had, we might have been able to stop him. Of course, Maralt would have killed me as easily as he killed Father. If you have any doubt of that, I know he murdered him. He told me and he told me how he did it. I was afraid of dying that way myself, but I don’t fear it any longer. I know it’s coming for me soon.

“For all that I’ve done to you and allowed to be done to you, I’m sorry. For all the atrocities that have been committed against the people of Cobalt, there can be no forgiveness. I ask for none. I wish you well. Your brother, Kamien.”

The parchment snapped back into a roll as Dynan let go of the bottom edge. For a moment he held it, turning the paper in his hand.

“Do you think too many people would object if we give him a King’s burial?” Dain asked after a long silence.

“They might. Doesn’t matter. History will be unkind enough to him as it is. I don’t think we need add to that by denying him his right. That’s when this really started. The day you and I were born and Kamien was denied his birthright. Our grandfather couldn’t see that.” He stood, gasping suddenly at the stabbing pain that shot through his shoulder. Dain was instantly at his side.

“You need to get some rest.”

“That would be nice, except I don’t happen to have anywhere to sleep.”

“Come sleep with me. My rooms are sort of clean.”

Dynan smiled at him, but shook his head. “I still have to explain all this to Alexia and Creal. Drake too. I can’t believe they aren’t up here demanding to know what’s going on. I don’t know what I’m going to tell them.”

“Don’t tell them anything.”

“Sure. I’ll get away with that. No problem.”

“Why did you agree to have them help you, Dynan? You didn’t need it. Obviously, since you’re here without their fleets. We could have done this years ago.”

“No, we couldn’t. We didn’t know what we were going to be faced with. We’re here, Dain, because Maralt wanted us here just the way we came. If we’d tried this years ago, without any sort of back up, we would have been slaughtered. There was enough of that this time around.”

With the likelihood of more to come, he thought, locking the crown into its vault.

Dain looked to another open arch that would take them back toward the front of the suite of rooms. “There’s one other thing we have to check.”

“The tower vault.” Dynan nodded, but noted again the abject weariness that marked his brother’s face. “Maybe it should wait a day.”

“I’m fine. Better than you. I don’t have a hole in my chest, or a broken collarbone. Sorry – again.”

“You don’t have to keep saying that.”

“I’m going to anyway.”

Dynan smiled at Dain’s insistence. Whatever made him feel better was fine. “I definitely want to find out how broke we are.”

“Or not. There was a lot of gold in there the last time I got in,” Dain said and led the way through the arch, down the hall, past studies and parlors and sitting rooms the King used, or didn’t use as Dynan remembered it. They were places to keep clean and walked through on a regular basis. They hadn’t ever spent a lot of time in here, even when Ambrose was King. Most of their lives they spent their time at Beren, or across the hall.

As they reached the room that housed the entrance vault to the King’s Tower, Dain glanced back at him. Dynan was struck again at how amazing it was that he was there. He was alive. He seemed all right, even though deep within, buried and locked away were chamber after chamber of tortures and horrors endured.

Dain shook his head. “I’m fine, Dynan.”

“If you keep saying that, do you think it’ll end up true?” he asked and went in.

“You know what I want?”

“I do,” Dynan said, putting his good arm around him and pulling him over.

“It’s too much.”

“I know it is, Dain. We’re going to get through this.”

“If you keep saying it—”

“We will.”

Dain nodded without believing it, but he tilted his head to the tower that filled half the room. The curve of black stone took up the corner and then some. Built into the rock, a shield door followed the line of the tower. “Wonder if he changed the code.”

“This will be a quick trip if he did.”

It turned out that the code was the same and the palm scan worked. It was coded so that the only people who could get into the tower were Telaerins. A resounding click echoed as the bolts drew back and joined with the hum of anti-gravity units shifting the heavy door. They were polarized to work against one another, the mechanics of which got a little noisy.

It was dark inside and that was the first hurdle. Dain stopped on the threshold and backed up a step. He wasn’t there just then, but somewhere else and he blinked a few times in a row before he came back.

“We can do this later,” Dynan said, sensing from Dain a nearly overwhelming fear of going into such a dark and enclosed space.

“As long as you’re with me. I think. Maybe.”

Beside the tower, there was a shelf, curved with the wall that contained a number of lamps, half of which didn’t function. Dain found four of them that did and took them all, just in case, along with extra charged power cells. He turned the lamp on and Dynan shook his head.

“We don’t have to do this right now.”

“We kind of do.”

“I brought some chests from Beren. Stuffed full.”

“The little cases we had stashed? Right. That will last less than a day around here. Just go.”

Dain nodded him on. Once inside, with four lamps on, the tower was as bright as day, though still a lot like walking into a cave. Dynan wondered who thought it was a good idea to make a windowless structure out of black rock that seemed to suck light out of existence. The lamps helped, but it was still oppressive. A stair wound upward from the first level that would take them all the way to the top, around and down the other side, and then into the interior rooms where all the gold was supposed to be. It was a long climb. They stopped twice so Dynan could rest, which was the second hurdle.

He was barely out of a Medic Center bed, standing at the moment due to an inexplicable, miraculous recovery after having his heart cut in half. He’d been warned it would take time to get back to normal again. He felt like an old man, short of breath and body aching the higher they climbed.

The door at the top opened onto the parapet at a dizzying height above the Palace. The day they stepped out into was bright. A blue sky stretched from horizon to horizon without a single cloud in evidence. The snows of the previous night were blown to the east on a stiff wind. Rianamar lay like a white jewel beneath them on one side, the mountains soared behind them, and the Wythe Sea rolled against the cliffs below. A few shore birds rode the wind just under eye level. It was cold to the bone, but they didn’t care.

Dain pulled in a lungful of air.

“Good to be home,” Dynan said, smiling while they drank it all in. “Isn’t it.”

“It’s amazing to be home.” He looked back at the mountains that rose in sharp relief against the pristine blue. “I thought – more than a few times – I’d never see this again. It’s so far beyond good, I don’t know what to call it.”

“Pretty close to a miracle.”

They looked around a moment longer, taking in the bird’s eye view of the world until the cold settled in. Dain turned for the way back inside, circuiting the parapet carefully. The crenels were barely waist height and the tower felt like it was swaying in the wind.

Dynan got in front and led the way down. The stone steps were another long tunnel-like affair that gave Dain a few bad moments that he did his best to submerge. Dynan wondered how long that would last before the barricades came down. There was a level of anguish steeped within that was buried, contained behind a wall he kept building, stone upon stone just to keep it contained.

“You never did learn how to block too well, did you?” Dain said and made Dynan laugh. “I don’t want to think about it. That’s all.”

“I know—”

“I’ll collapse later, all right? After you’re crowned and I don’t have to worry about it any more. My job will be done. I won’t have anything to do. Then, I will officially fall over.”

“The Chancellorship?”

“Um ... no.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“No way. I mean, sorry, but—”

“That feels a little weird,” Dynan said. “The idea that I’ll be King and you won’t be here.”

“I’ll be here. Any time you need me. Marc is pretty smart, you know.”

“You all right with that? He’ll be able to give you an order.”

“He definitely won’t,” Dain said without pause and Dynan laughed again. “You, yes. Marc, no.”

“Me? I doubt that too, Dain.”

“I’ll do what you tell me...”

“...most of the time,” Dynan said with him.

“Most of the time is about all I’ve ever managed with anyone’s order giving capacity.”

“Right. I had a feeling.”

Dain laughed at that. Dynan glanced back at him as they rounded the last curve before the entry door. For that moment in time, joy overtook all the sorrows. They were together again, their minds joined, mended in a way that made them see the long, dark tunnel from a different perspective. It was like breathing pure air again after a never-ending voyage without. They were both wounded from the experience, but the cure stood within grasping distance.

With another series of security codes to enter, the door to the inner tower opened. The room was completely empty, instead of the gold they expected to find piled high the way they remembered it. There wasn’t even a stray jewel on the floor.

“Well,” Dain said looking around as if he expected the fabled wealth of their forefathers to materialize. “That just figures.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Dynan said and leaned against the stone doorframe. “What could he have done with it all?”

They took the stairs down to the next level and found the same thing. Not even a speck of gold remained. It was the same the next flight and the next, all the way down to the bottom. They were underground by a few floors by then. The lowest levels of the tower hadn’t been used even before they left all those years ago. It was filled with broken chests and rotting wood scattered across the stone floor.

Dynan sat, groaning as he leaned against the wall and put his head in his hands. “This is not good.”

“Suddenly, I’m not feeling so charitable any more.”

“He couldn’t have spent it all,” Dynan said, looking at the emptiness over his fingertips. He swore again, a whole string of them.

“Yeah, he was that, all right,” Dain said of Kamien and his mother. He sat with him on the stair at the top of one of the last levels that led down into a black wall. “This is probably something we don’t want to tell anyone.”

“No.”

“Not anyone at all. Not Marc. Not Shalis.”

“Not a soul,” Dynan said, the implications settling a weight on his chest. He swore a couple more times, damning the Gods this time. “What are we going to do?”

“We are going to do a very good job of pretending like we’re not bankrupt, is what.”

“Allie can check the Finance Ministry. Maybe there’s something there.”

“He can get the levy schedule. See who is paid up and who isn’t,” Dain said. “That’s a reasonable first step to take, right? I don’t know. Maybe Kamien stashed it. I’ll have to check Altair and the Beach Manor. Beren?”

“I got everything out of Beren that was there, and besides that, Maralt bombed the place, or someone did, under his orders. We barely got out.”

Dynan leaned his head on Dain’s shoulder, feeling four times as worn out now than before. He reached for the controls of the brace that held his arm to his side and turned it off. It hurt to have it on.

“The house is gone?”

“I was carted out unconscious, but that’s what they told me. Burned to the ground. That’s where we realized you were alive. Marc remembered seeing you and the attack where I guess you split yourself up – however the hell you managed that – and found the three of us.”

Dain nodded, but he shook his head at the same time. “I don’t remember too much of it.”

Dynan frowned over something else. “I reached you a couple of times. I don’t know how exactly. We thought they were dreams. Marc and I. Both of us dreamed about a dungeon cell and being in it.”

“Yeah, right. Not here, okay?” He nodded to the walls and the dark.

“You talked to me, Dain. I was fixing the ship. I didn’t know what I was doing and you were right there with me. This was months ago. Weeks before the attack where we joined. We had just gotten away from Cadal. Maralt kept coming on with the sneak attacks. I couldn’t figure out how he was doing it. The ship was falling apart. You told me how to fix it. One of the cell regulators—”

“—had a massive number of damaged circuits and the ship was close to blowing up. I remember,” he said in a voice just above a whisper and a smile broke across his face. “I woke up thinking I’d had some sort of crazy dream that I was on board a ship when I was really in a dark hole in the ground. I remember.”

“You saved us all,” Dynan said, leaning against him again, head to head. “More than once. You remember those barrels of water you made Trevan stow on board? We were all about to die of thirst when we found them. We wouldn’t have made it, Dain, without you constantly doing everything you could to help us get through it. So when you feel like you can’t stand to live with the other horrible things that have happened, I want you to remember saving my life more times than I can count. Will you do that? Try to do that? Let it balance out all the terrible things you’re holding onto?”

He shook his head and there were tears in his eyes. “I keep...” he said, and stopped. “I keep seeing Sheed and the look on his face. He was so happy to see me. I walked right up to him. He didn’t have even a chance. And when he realized he was going to die and I’d done it, he couldn’t believe it. I can’t stop seeing him any other way.”

Dynan saw it – the horrified, shocked realization on Sheed’s face as he fell and life left his eyes that way. His last breath, saying Dain’s name, as air hissed from his open mouth. Dynan took Dain then, pulling him from the Throne Room and the horror of everything that had happened there. He showed him that day when they found the water barrels on the ship and how Sheed and everyone else had laughed about it. He took him to Cadal and all the times Sheed had tried to be Dain for Dynan, the day they’d staged the duel for the crowds at Crey and as many other moments Dynan could think of, so Dain would know.

“He knew it wasn’t you,” he said. “He understood what Maralt was capable of.”

Dain nodded without meaning it, looking to the roof of stone over their head. “I want to get out of here.”

Dynan agreed, except he couldn’t get up. “Just remember,” he said as Dain helped him to his feet. “You’re not alone. You’re not going to go through this alone. For a change, I’m going to take care of you, instead of the other way around. Only, after you help me climb up all these stairs.”

Dain laughed at that, taking Dynan’s weight once again.

They were both worn out by the time they returned to the King’s quarters. They discovered a few guards stationed at the vault entrance. Dynan knew two of them, Mikk Jorg and Jarrid Rohn, but not the third. “This is Avry Tor, Your Highness,” Mikk said. “He’s from the same unit. Commander Blaise sent us back to find you.”

“What for?” Dain asked. Mikk kept looking back and forth between them.

“I think he wants a guard on you,” Mikk said. At that, Avry raised his hand and waved a few fingers.

“That would be me.”

“Really?”

Avry, who seemed like he was about twelve to Dynan, met the sarcastic roll of Dain’s eyes with unflinching determination. That didn’t help him much, since Dain ignored him by hitting the controls for the vault. The big door rumbled shut, the locking seals whistling after the bolts slammed over.

They moved back toward the door, stopping when they heard voices from a sitting room next to the main entryway. More windows and doors were open, filtering the death smell. They found Ralion and Allie sitting with the King of Trea before a newly kindled fire. Drake Mardon stood the moment he saw them. “Dynan, are you all right? What’s happened?”

Dynan nodded to that. “Where are Alexia and Creal?”

“I sent them back to their ship,” Drake said and smiled at his relief.

“Thank you.”

“Alexia certainly didn’t want to go, but I convinced her that it wasn’t safe. Creal was more understanding about it. He’s been a great help to me, to you, in managing Alexia and her whims. Dain, are you ... Ralion was trying to explain some of this. Is Maralt dead? I don’t understand.”

Weariness kept Dynan’s answer to a nod. He wondered how he would explain something that he wasn’t even sure of himself. He didn’t think he could stand much longer, and he didn’t want to stay in these rooms at all.

“Drake,” Dain said, “he needs to rest and he’s not doing it here. Kamien’s back there stiff. Allie, get a medic team up here and then servants to clean these rooms out. Make sure they understand to leave the windows open. Kyle should stay with them while they’re in here. No one comes in without Kyle or one of us.”

Again, Dain put his arm around Dynan enough to almost carry him, being careful of his shoulder, and he wondered where he found the energy. He’d been awake as much as Marc, if not more. He didn’t seem nearly as exhausted as Dynan felt. Drake started to take him by the right side, which would have hurt a lot, but Dain stopped him almost roughly. Dynan felt his brother shaking and knew then that it was Ralion’s attempted explanation that caused it. Dain dreaded others discovering what he felt he’d done.

“Ralion,” Dynan said, finding it difficult to breathe. “Dain and I will take care of the explanation. Make certain everyone understands that. Everyone. No one talks about any of this until I say so.”

Ralion nodded quickly, moving to open the door for them. Drake followed, his apprehension and confusion readily apparent. Dain led them across the hall to his rooms, turning on every light as he went. He set Dynan down on the sitting room couch and then couldn’t stay on his feet. Here again, was another battle to keep it all contained.

“You need to rest,” Dynan said. “No arguments. And don’t forget – you saved my life and everyone else, Dain.”

“You don’t know what happened here,” he whispered.

Dynan shook his head. “I know we all would have died but for you. Don’t think about anything else. That’s an order.”

Saying it made Dain laugh under his breath, but he shook his head. “He hates me.”

“Ralion? He doesn’t. He’s just trying to sort through it all like everyone else, and since it’s Ralion we’re talking about here, he’s not too subtle. Listen to me. You have to sleep. I’m going to stay right here with you.”

He kept up a steady stream of assurances. He pulled Dain over so he could stretch out on the couch and forced him to lie down. He fought it off, afraid of sleeping for the nightmares that were sure to come. Dynan moved aside, nodding to the portrait of their mother that hung over the fireplace mantle. Shalael Telaerin smiled down on them like she had every day of their lives since they were five.

“Do you remember her voice?” he asked softly while Dain tried to keep his eyes open. “How she used to sing to us?”

It took some time to get the memory to hold. They were so little and it was so long ago, it was hard to get the details right. Once he did, it felt like she was there, sitting on a grassy knoll singing the way she did when she wanted them to sleep when they wouldn’t or some fright was keeping them up. She pulled Dain to her and he was asleep almost before his head rested in her lap.

“I’ll take care of him,” she said.

Dynan was captivated a moment, as if she wasn’t a thought or a dream remembered, but real. The air around her seemed to sparkle. He would have stayed, but she nodded him on.

“You should rest too,” she said. “It’s not over, Dynan. Go on.”

He blinked and was back in Dain’s sitting room. His brother was soundly asleep just that fast and the King of Trea was getting him a blanket. With that task complete, Drake moved to the hearth and in short order had a fire built. Dynan almost fell asleep watching him, but couldn’t quite let go for fear of what might still be coming.

“Is he all right?” Drake asked when he finished with the fire, nodding to Dain while he poured two drinks.

“What did Ralion tell you?”

“Next to nothing,” he said. “You don’t have to explain. What ever official story you decide to tell Alexia and Creal will be enough for me as well.”

“No, Drake, that’s not ... The truth is, I don’t know what happened here any more than you do. I just woke up. Hours ago. I haven’t been out of bed since we got here.”

“Dain tried to kill you in the Throne Room? No, never mind. You need to rest too.”

“I think if I don’t have to stand up again, I’ll be all right.” He took the proffered drink and slugged half of it back.

“You don’t have to do this now.”

“Better now than later and yes I do. You’re the only one I owe an explanation to. So here’s what I know, which isn’t much. We left Trea. Maralt put it in my head that I had to. He even sent me to Beren to pick up the Queen’s crown for him ... That reminds me.” He touched the transmitter control at his sleeve. “Allie, can you get Kyle Bairing and a troop of guards to get the Queen’s Crown off the XR-30 with the other cases and get them into the crown vault? I want you to change the code too. Thanks.” He took another sip of his drink, wishing it would make his shoulder stop hurting. He thought he’d have to call Geneal for more pain medication soon. “We landed at Beren without problems, but Liselle, of all people, was having a dinner party.”

“Liselle Telaerin?”

Dynan smiled at the King’s reaction. “Yes. Maralt arranged that as another reminder of Dain and the only thing we ever fought about.”

“So Maralt knew you were there, but you escaped.”

“Barely, but yes. Maralt attacked Dain and I felt it. Marc did too, and knew who it was. He realized that Dain was alive and what it meant; that I would be faced with a choice between saving Loren or saving Dain in the Throne Room.”

He went on to describe what had happened, about finding Loren and the loss of their child and fighting Dain. He was on his third drink by then, which made it only slightly easier to get through. His explanation of what happened afterward was less clear. He remembered the hatred he had seen in his brother’s face well enough, the sword coming at him, the careful aim, and how hard he fought against Maralt.

“It was a pretty narrow thing.”

Drake agreed to that by swallowing the rest of his drink. He got up and threw another log onto the fire, sending up a shower of golden sparks. “But he’s all right now, with Maralt dead. He’s not ... I don’t know how to put this without it sounding completely heartless. I’m happy beyond words that he’s alive, Dynan.”

“He’ll be all right. He’s been through a lot though. Maralt gave him a kind of drug they used to give soldiers back during the wars.”

“A ramping drug?”

“He’s coming off of that, so far as I can tell. He’s not going to turn on me or anyone else, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not, no.” Drake shook his head. “It’s a miracle.

“It is that.”

“What about Marc?”

“He went up against Maralt pretty much alone,” Dynan said and told him what he knew, which wasn’t much. Another drink got him through that explanation, particularly the parts when Dynan watched Marc taking Dain out of existence. “The more I find out, the more I’m amazed we’re alive at all. Ever since we got here there’s been this tremendous battle to stop Maralt from taking over everything. I’m not sure if Marc will ever get over it. Now, amazingly enough, there aren’t that many who knew this was going on, myself included. Loren, Geneal, Ralion, and Allie are the only ones who knew that Maralt was inside Dain, except I’m not sure when they found out. Mostly they thought there was just something wrong with him after spending two years in a cell.”

“But those are the only ones who knew?”

Dynan nodded. “I don’t know how Marc managed it, or why Maralt went along with the ruse.”

“He needed to gain the support of your people. Much easier to do as Dain than himself.”

“I don’t know why Marc didn’t tell me when I first talked to him. I feel like I should have known because of the way they were both acting. Marc was just terrified to be in the same room with him.” Dynan pulled in a breath, remembering what happened next and felt weariness drag at him. “Somehow, he managed, and we’re all here today because he and Dain never gave up.”

“What happened to Maralt?” Drake asked.

Dynan started to answer, but realized the only thing he could say would likely not make any sense to Drake. “I’m not completely sure.” He smiled when Drake started. “I am certain he’s gone for good. I wouldn’t be sitting here if I weren’t. I’d be out trying to kill him myself. Dain too, and Marc would be getting up a lot sooner than would be good for him if that weren’t the case. I ran into this memory block with Carryn when she told me about the people who trained Maralt. I think they’re the ones who have him now, or what’s left of him. Marc can’t tell me who they are and neither could Carryn.” He frowned as he tried to remember, finding it very difficult now to recall exactly what happened. “It’s all starting to fade. The last thing I remember was arguing with Dain about helping Marc. I knew he couldn’t stop himself from being overcome. Dain and I knew that we’d likely end up dead if we had to fight him, but we decided that would be better than letting Maralt back through any one of us. We turned to go help Marc, and then I woke up with Ralion standing over me with his sword.”

“Are you certain Maralt isn’t still controlling Marc now?”

“Yes,” he said, though a part of him would likely always doubt it. “He’s the same. Mostly. When he forced me to sign the Lord Chancellor’s declaration, he forgot to sign it himself. But, he’s done a lot of things he’ll regret for the rest of his life, blame himself for. Using the same methods as Maralt. Turning into him really. He had to, in order to stop him.”

“But there’s the possibility that because he’s experienced these things that he never should have, he’ll be changed by them. By that, I mean become a possible threat.”

Dynan nodded slowly, wishing it weren’t true. “I’ll have to watch him. Dain will too. Marc lost control in a way that isn’t easily recovered from or forgotten. He was also exhausted, something that’s extremely dangerous for an adept. I doubt we’ll be seeing him for the next few days.”

“Pushed to the edge of endurance. I thought that when I saw him.”

“Not just to the edge. Over it and down into the abyss. We’re lucky he didn’t come back just as dangerous as Maralt. I think he’ll be all right. I hope so. After everything he’s been through, he deserves something better.”

“A few medals perhaps.”

“I’ve been thinking about keeping him as my Lord Chancellor.”

Drake laughed. “That’s hardly a reward, Dynan.”

“No, not exactly. He’ll look at it that way though, I think. Besides, I don’t have anyone else for the job. Dain doesn’t want to be saddled with it for the rest of his life.”

“It’s what you always intended.”

“I want Dain to do what he wants. Give him back his life here.”

“You mean set him loose on the system? You may regret that decision.”

“Only that I won’t be able to go with him.” He smiled slightly at that, wanting to take back the last years of their life, bring their father back so that he wouldn’t be the next King. He didn’t want to be. Still didn’t think he was ready for it.

“You may find you’ll be able to go with him on some occasions,” Drake said. “Becoming a King isn’t quite like dying. Your life will go on.”

Dynan couldn’t accept that, thinking about Loren, unable to believe he could go on without her, except he feared he’d be forced to. With that thought, weariness stole his last strength. He heard voices drifting nearby, more than one, and he felt himself lifted. He wanted to stop them, tell them not to take him away from Dain because he knew his brother didn’t want to be left alone, but he couldn’t speak through the haze of pain that pulled him down into darkness.