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Chapter 42
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“You see the trouble you cause?”
Dain turned from the tower window, paced four steps away and back before he turned to face Matt. “Then why don’t they let me go up there and tell myself to shut up?”
“A paradox there. I think I’d like to see that.”
“Why not?”
“The High Bishop isn’t strong enough. Any one of us leave again and he could die.”
“He doesn’t seem to have much trouble showing us what’s happening at the Palace. How much energy is he expending to bring us this lovely view?”
“We have to know what’s happening. And besides, it beats staring at the walls, or you.”
“I’m pretty sick of you too, Matt. How can you sit here, watching what your brother is going through and do nothing? How can you do it?”
“Just because I don’t scream and stomp around the way you do, doesn’t mean I care any less about this. Dynan is alive, and he’s going to stay that way. Unless we all go down with him, you get to keep your brother. So don’t insinuate that I don’t care what happens to mine. Here’s a little irony for you. What Maralt tried to force you to do, I’m being asked to accept without doubt. For all the supposedly right reasons, I have to kill my own brother. I guess you must have forgotten what it feels like to be in that position. At least you had the option to fight.”
“I’m sorry,” Dain said quietly. “I haven’t forgotten. This is killing me. Standing here and doing nothing is not my idea of helping. Oh, I know, we’ve got our part to do. Spare me the some things are given speech. Sure, I get to keep my brother, but it would be nice if he didn’t hate me by the time I get back.”
“He isn’t going to hate you. Of course, you may end up hating yourself before this is all over with.”
“Well, Matt, you sure know how to get straight to the heart of a man’s fear. Just suppose that’s true for a minute. What happens after I’m joined? Is there going to be some inner battle waged? I hate me? I’m really looking forward to that, I can tell you. Can’t wait.”
“Try to keep in mind that your other self has been through more than you have. When you do join, I think you’re going to find out just how much more. There’s a part of his mind that’s owned by something else. He’ll never be free of it.”
“What was that you were saying about how lucky I am?”
“...Foreknowledge can be a dangerous thing. It can also be a tremendous gift.”
Dain looked over at him. Matt sat completely still, his face suddenly devoid of expression and one that was growing more familiar with each successive instance it happened. He wasn’t talking to Matt any more. At least this time, there wasn’t any apparent pain. “Who are you?”
“We are.”
“Are what?”
“He means in terms he can understand,” Matt said.
“Or anybody else, for that matter,” Dain said.
“Not so easily done.”
Matt smiled. “Especially for you.”
“Sorry to be so stupid.”
“You are difficult.”
“I don’t like being used. You’ve been using me and my brother without any kind of forewarning for the last eight years, maybe even longer.”
“You lack knowledge.”
“Tell me something I don’t already know. If I’m intelligent enough to ask the damn questions, I’m intelligent enough to comprehend the answer.”
“Or at least figure it out in his own slow way. They saw what knowledge did to Marc and they don’t want to make the same mistake with you,” Matt said.
“We need you.”
“Then answer my question. Who are you?”
“We are...”
Matt seemed to struggle. “Different.”
“And the same.”
“We are like and unlike. We exist together and apart. We are all things.”
“Exist together where? How are we alike?”
“Here in this place, we exist together. They don’t mean this building,” Matt said, “but maybe the world. Yes. They are the land, the moon, the stars. They sacrifice a part of themselves to us. For each tree, each blade of grass, each birth. A cycle of life. They renew and they receive.”
“We are life. We made you. You are our son. Will you help us?”
For a moment, Dain was too afraid to answer that question. It seemed easier to do when it was the High Bishop asking, maybe because he felt with him the option to change his mind existed. Not that he ever intended to break his word, and in that admission, he had the answer. “Yes. I already said I would.”
“You will be called.”
“The sooner the better.”
Matt started shaking and Dain moved to his side, looking at him in question. “I’m all right. They’re gone.”
Dain sat with him. “Another surprise attack. I don’t think I like their methods.”
“That was different.”
“Think you can explain what they meant by all that, since I’m so slow.”
Matt smiled. “You really confound them.”
“I always thought the Gods were supposed to know everything. Why should I seem so confusing to them if that’s true?”
“Their knowledge is on a different level than ours, and not so much in the details. The ultimate managers of the universe, they keep order.”
“They’re not doing such a good job of it, Matt.”
“Their weakening wasn’t unforeseen. They knew it was going to happen. But knowing that a thing is to be doesn’t take out the actual work of making it happen as it should, as it’s written. It’s like they only have one side of the plan. They know that good is to triumph.”
“They don’t know how?”
“No, that’s not exactly right either. They know that certain events have to happen. Some of those things already have, like our being brought here: Marc and I. There are limitations to what they can do though, without altering the balance even more. Too far in one direction, be it good or bad, upsets the scale, and for each instance that they take an active role in events a door is opened for evil to counteract. That’s a direct cause of their weakening. What we have now is as close to chaos as I think we want to get.”
“Would you say,” Dain asked slowly, “that their talking directly to you constitutes active participation in events?”
“Yes. So does what they’re doing with Marc.”
“Which means they could cause as much trouble as Maralt. Now that’s comforting.” He frowned a second. “The part of Maralt that’s in Logue would imply direct influence from the other side.”
“The more often they interfere, the more often the Gods do the same thing.”
“I have the perfect solution. Leave us out of it and go kill each other off.”
“Doesn’t work that way.”
Dain growled under his breath. “Well, it should. Why don’t you suggest it next time they drop in?”
“No.”
“All right. We’ve got a big stew going here. The Gods, or whoever they are, dip their finger in, shake us all up, and that means the other side gets a turn. Whose turn is it next?”
“I guess that depends on who reacted last.”
“They were just here, Matt.”
“They could have been reacting to something that Maralt has done. These things also seem to vary in magnitude. The attack on the Governor’s Hall and Marc bringing back Ambrose. They play off of each other.”
“And look who they’re playing with!”
“Would you rather they didn’t and let Maralt win? We want the Gods to win this battle, Dain. We help them. They help us. You aren’t going to get the same consideration from the other side.”
“You don’t have to give me a lecture about us versus them. I know that. I don’t happen to like being a pawn in some supernatural, celestial battle.”
“I get it. You’re going to help, but by God, you’re going to make sure they know how little you really want to, how indignant you are about being called on for help.”
“They ask for my help, but then don’t give me any idea about what they expect.”
“Event awareness, Dain, is a key point you’re missing. The Gods know certain things have to happen. What smaller events that occur to make the key ones happen may not be so clear. If they tell you too much about these major events, your reactions could be influenced, which in turn could alter the outcome. They trust that you, knowing who you are, will act the way you always act. But if they say too much, or at the wrong time, you’re influenced in a way, minute or large, that could put at risk the things that must occur if they are going to win.”
“But they do exert an influence.”
“Yes. A little at a time. A nudge in the right direction here and there, and not much more than that.”
“Except now we know for every action there’s a corresponding reaction. Tell me, what good does that do anyone, when you and I can’t share that information? We aren’t allowed to go anywhere. We can’t talk to anyone in the Palace. We know that something is going to happen because we had that enlightening little chat. They’ve taken their turn. Now the bad guys get to go. I think this is something Dynan ought to know about.”
Matt glanced at him. “You’re only saying that so you can get out of here.”
“I am not.” Dain would have gone on, except Matt was laughing at him. “You see my point.”
“Yes, I see it.”
“I can talk to Dynan. I don’t even have to leave to do it. He knows I’m here, so it won’t surprise him, and I’ll have a better chance to make him understand. Not that what I’ll be telling him will make him feel any better, but at least we can forewarn him when we know something’s headed his way.”
“In being forewarned what do you think he can do?”
“Minimize the damage. We could have lost the entire city the other night. We knew there was going to be an attack, so we sent Carryn. If she hadn’t been there, how many more would have been lost?”
“We give your brother the same chance.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll talk to Carryn about it.” Matt stood to go do that.
“Don’t take too much time.”
“I won’t.”
He disappeared, and Dain turned back to the window where he took up the now continual watch on Marc. He wanted to talk to his brother. He hoped Carryn would agree and that the High Bishop wouldn’t stop them.
They were still arguing he saw, and really wished his counterpart would stop. He understood that he felt cornered, forced to accept something he didn’t understand. He also knew what the reaction would be, having a lot of trouble coming to terms with the same things himself. It would be better if Carryn just let him talk to himself, but he doubted that would be allowed.
He rolled his eyes, wondering how much longer he could endure this split existence and keep his sanity intact.
“Both of you stop,” Marc said and stood abruptly. Dain felt himself grabbed, and held frozen for just long enough to get his attention, and released as quickly. It felt like someone had snatched him up by the collar and shaken him. “Stop.”
He turned from them while silence filled the room. Dain shook his head, and leaned on his chair. He couldn’t believe he was being asked to accept this. It wasn’t right. On second consideration, he wasn’t really surprised that Dynan believed it all. He looked across at the Book of Truth, still lying open on the table, and glanced at his father. Before he’d been brought back, none of them were willing to accept Marc’s death as the only alternative. Dynan accepted it now because Ambrose told him to, and offered up a book that no one had seen before as proof. Marc believed it too.
“You know where this is coming from, don’t you?” he asked Marc. “Who benefits from your death?”
“Everyone,” he said.
“Certainly Maralt the most.”
“No, Dain,” Dynan said. “He’s taking Maralt with him. That’s the point.”
Dain couldn’t say what he thought, what he feared suddenly; that his father, who had been held for so long by their enemies, had returned with the intention to convince them that Marc dying was a good thing. Dain didn’t want to believe it.
“That’s the idea, anyway,” Marc said quietly. “The problem is that the Gods aren’t strong enough to take Maralt without taking me too. So that’s the way it is. I don’t want Shalis to know about this yet, and I don’t want Loren to know about it, which means I don’t want anyone else outside of us knowing about it. Not yet. I’ll tell you when that changes.”
Marc straightened suddenly, and Dain felt a cold chill sweep through him, like an icy wind off a frozen lake that shook him. Suddenly he couldn’t breathe. His shoulder felt like it was being chewed off, muscles ripping away from bone, centering on the circuit of teeth.
Dynan reached for him while Marc circled behind them. The next instant pain left him. Everyone seated rose, and the guards on duty came to instant wary attention. Marc motioned them back toward their father. Dain realized if Maralt could get close enough, he could take Ambrose and send him back to the Gates. His duty done, now they intended to take him back.
Dain jumped when Ralion reached across the table and pulled Drake over, scattering glasses and dessert dishes in a clash of porcelain, separating another possible target. His heart froze with the next thought.
“Garan.”
They all heard Bronwyn then, fear for her son’s life projected into her voice. Maralt came through the door that led back to the kitchen, holding Garan around his middle and by his neck, using him as a shield. They could tell he was holding his soul. That realization was confirmed when Bronwyn followed, holding Garan’s limp body in her arms. Marc stopped Dain when he moved, shaking his head.
“Not too close, my Lord Chancellor,” Maralt said, easing away from them. “You know why I’m here, of course. A life for a life.”
Marc followed after him, step for step. Dain ignored the unspoken suggestion that he stay still for this. He couldn’t. This was a different kind of fear, unremitting, striking him on a level of consciousness that knew no boundary.
Ambrose tried to stop him next, but Dain pulled free, swinging himself across the table, through more dishes. Dynan moved at the same time, forming a half circle that Maralt couldn’t cross. Gaden moved to Dynan’s side, while Trevan pulled Ambrose back another pace. Avry eased to Dain’s side, while Ralion held onto Drake.
“Really, I just wanted to stop in and tell you how things are going and give you a warning. You are so very close to unleashing the thing you think you can stop. Fools that you are, you’ll follow Marc into the abyss. Our Father wanted me to thank you for doing everything so according to plan. One more step, Marc, and I send him to the Pit. You can’t get him out of there. I am willing, though, to make a trade.”
Dain knew immediately that Maralt meant his father, and he thought the only way he would ever prove to himself that what he thought was true or not would be to keep him here. “Why don’t you take me instead?”
“No.” His father took a step forward.
“Somehow, I just knew you were going to say that.” Maralt grinned. “How can I possibly trust you? I take Ambrose. You get your son back.”
“Take my hand. Give Garan to Dynan. It’s that simple. I won’t fight you.”
“Dain, no,” Ambrose said, and moved to stop him. Dynan kept him from getting close.
“You’ll do anything I say?” Maralt brushed his face and mouth against Garan’s neck while the boy hung frozen in his arms, quivering in silent misery. His eyes were saucers, filled with a fear that no child should ever experience. “Anything, Dain?”
“Anything you want. Take my hand.”
Maralt ran his tongue over his teeth, showing two canines, long and extremely sharp. “Kill your brother.”
When his teeth sank into Garan’s neck and his son jerked in sudden pain, Dain turned for the sword Ralion wore and took it from him, startling everyone in the room. He glanced once at Marc, but couldn’t risk communicating with him. He couldn’t look at Dynan at all, aware of his sudden understanding and accompanying fear.
“Dain, what are you—” Ralion reached to stop him, but too late. The sword arched down, plunging into Dynan’s chest.
He fell instantly and Gaden caught him, staring in open-mouthed shock at the blood spilling from the wound. Dain turned to Maralt. “Give me my son.”
“It’s not so easy to kill a telepath. Take him.”
His vision blurred as he knelt down, fighting off a wave of bile that rose to choke him. Dain saw the light inside Dynan, already weakened, and growing dimmer with each moment. He didn’t think about what he was doing, but took the light in his hand, then inside himself. Dynan didn’t move, and fear that he’d made a mistake with his careful aim tore through Dain while his mind filled with raw power, seductive and overwhelming.
“Now, you son of a bitch, take my hand and give me my son.”
“Don’t you mean our son?” His head lowered again, and Garan jerked. “Any time you’re ready, Dain.”
He held out both hands, one for Garan and the other for Maralt, grasping them simultaneously. He willed himself to accept it. Had to accept it for just a moment. Just long enough to be convincing. He took Maralt’s hand and took Garan from him, sending his son back to himself.
A black maw opened in front of him. A mountain crag filled with seething tendrils, and grasping hands reached for him. He felt himself drawn forward.
Everyone burst into motion. Marc dove at him, grabbed hold and wrenched him away. It felt suddenly like he was being ripped apart, but Marc was stronger, far stronger than anything Dain had ever encountered. He wanted that power for himself. Its urgency overwhelmed him, compelling him to take the strength Marc possessed. Behind him, Maralt vanished.
He pushed Marc down, holding him with one hand on his chest and in his mind; they were in a cell, dank and rotting. Marc was shackled in the corner, and Dain moved to him instantly, unable to stop himself.
Instead of the anger he expected, a fight he craved even, Marc didn’t do anything to stop him. Dain remembered how many times Marc had done this same thing to him, and finally understood. He felt how difficult it was to resist, succumbing to the compulsion to take more, even as an equally intense abhorrence grew. He bent over him, and Marc just lay quietly in his arms.
That he didn’t seem to be getting any weaker made Dain pause to consider the fact, remembering how it had always knocked him to his knees almost instantly. He possessed a great well of strength, and Dain was drawn to it again, pulled in by unending thirst to a perpetual well. Suddenly he felt like he was drowning.
“All you have to do is let go,” Marc said easily, and smiled at him when he stared. “Really.”
Dain watched the wound in his neck seal closed, and pushed him away, backing into the dark corner that occupied so much of his mind. He turned to run from him, escape from what he’d just done his only thought, but Marc grabbed him up.
“Oh no you don’t. You didn’t let me run away from it, and I’m not going to let you do it either. “
“No. I can’t. You don’t—”
“Understand? Of course I do. Dain, we have to go back. We have to get Dynan back where he belongs and only you can do that.”
He remembered what he’d done, could still feel his brother’s presence inside him. Panic that he’d made a mistake and Dynan would die seized control, and with that thought, desire left him.
“This will be the last time you ever come here,” Marc said, and held out his hand.
Dain wanted to believe him, but didn’t think he’d ever be free of this place. He reached for him, and his vision cleared. Marc smiled up at him, pushing himself off the floor. Dain turned from him, aware of all the others who were staring at him and at Dynan. He only looked once and couldn’t look long. Gaden held Dynan, bent over him and his father was beside them. A pool of blood covered the floor beneath him. Ralion’s sword protruded from his chest.
Marc went to his side, nodding back at him and he held out his hand. Dain didn’t want to get any closer, terrified that they were too late, but moved beside him, staring down into his brother’s lifeless face. Marc reached for him, then inside of him. “Time to give him back.”
Considering the alternative, it shouldn’t have been so difficult, but a strong compulsion to keep the power Dynan gave him, kept him from releasing him. Then Dain felt sick from it, that he could ever think that way, and understood Marc better again. He let go.
Marc pulled the sword out, making everyone in the room cringe. He covered the wound with his hand and bent over Dynan. Dain flinched away when he saw a strand of light twining toward him from Marc, then understood and allowed his strength to be taken. Gaden was next and he slumped to the floor unconscious. Drake took a step toward them, eyes widening the instant before he fell and Ralion caught him. Lt. Messel Grist slid down to the floor where he didn’t move.
Ambrose watched it all, staring around the room as one man after the other crumpled, while Bronwyn knelt beside Garan, holding him tightly despite his protests that he was all right. Dain sat with his knees drawn up, waiting. He closed his eyes against the light around Marc that grew brighter and brighter until it hurt to even look at him. No one else seemed to notice. He saw around his father a blue swirling field of energy, and wanted to deny its existence. Ralion, Trevan and every other non-telepath in the room carried the same aura, and he wanted to take it, take them. He set his head down, shaking from the horrible realization of what he had just become.
The light faded and failed. Dain looked up and found Marc smiling at him. “You managed to miss all the important parts. Stay with him. Ralion, come with me.”
Suddenly, it wasn’t Marc but a huge black cat, its luminous grey eyes watching. Around its neck it wore a thick chain with the orb embedded in the Telaerin crest and he moved by Dain, smelling the floor. When he found the scent, he growled and trotted toward the door, crossing the length of the room quickly.
Ralion reached down to pick up his sword, but instead of cleaning Dynan’s blood off of it, he broke the blade over his knee. He glanced at Dain as he discarded the weapon, shaking his head slightly, before he turned and hurried after Marc.
Dynan groaned, startling them all and opened his eyes. Ambrose knelt down beside him, helping him when he insisted on sitting up. Not a drop of blood stained his clothes. Only the holes caused by the sword remained. The floor beside him was clean. The only evidence that anything had happened was the blood on Ralion’s broken sword.
Dain turned from him, but Dynan crawled over to him and pulled him into his arms. “You and your crazy plans. Garan, are you all right?”
“Yes, Uncle Dynan. Are you?”
He laughed slightly. “Just a little unnerved is all. Come on, Dain. It’s all right.”
“It’s never going to be all right.”
“If you really believed that you wouldn’t keep coming up with the only solution to any given crisis. Look at me. You’re the bravest man I know. You always do what you have to, and somehow, you manage to make it work. You amaze me. You also scared me to death, literally, but I’m all right. I knew what you were doing. I knew Marc could keep me alive, and your son is worth that.”
Dynan let him go and pushed himself to his feet. He fingered the hole in his shirt. “I’m going to keep the clothier in business all by myself, I think. Let’s get everyone up off the floor. Avry, Trevan, can you give me a hand?”
Dynan motioned Garan over, and Dain held him, trying hard not to give into tears, but it was impossible. His eight-year-old boy wrapped his arms around him, telling him with easy assurance that it would be all right, and wasn’t that big cat the neatest thing he’d ever seen. After the others were cared for, Dynan and their father returned to him, helped him up and took him back to bed.
“I’m sorry,” he said to Dynan after they’d been left alone.
Dynan looked at him, and sat next to him. “Sorry you stabbed me, or sorry you were mad enough to kill me just a minute before?”
The silence that followed blanketed the room. Dain didn’t want to answer. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. “Both. Dynan, I have to work out this business with Marc for myself. I don’t want to lose him, and it feels to me like you’re too willing to let him do this.”
“Maybe I am. Really, it’s just abject terror of what he can do. I feel like I lost him a long time ago, Dain. He’s changed so much, learned so much faster than anyone thought possible, when I remember where he started. This isn’t easy for me either. I’m sorry I sprang it on you the way I did. Marc didn’t want me to. I get the feeling that we’re about out of time, and if we don’t start accepting what’s been happening, the Gates are going to open.”
“And you’re certain the only way we can keep them closed is if Marc dies?”
Dynan nodded slowly. “That’s the way it seems. The way it’s written.”
“The Book of Truth. Where did you find it?”
“Trevan and Ralion found it in your study, in the vault. Yes, I know Maralt put it there. He didn’t write it though. I don’t know why he put it in there, except maybe to divide us.”
Dain shook his head, thinking that explanation was too easy. “We’re being used again.”
The door opened after a soft knock, but it was Ralion, followed closely by Marc, still in cat form and growling under his breath. He jumped up on the bed and flopped down between them.
“Let me guess,” Dynan said. “He got away.”
“Yes, he got away,” Marc said after he merged back into himself. He rolled onto his back. “I’m never going to catch him.”
“Sure you will.” Dynan laughed when he growled again.
“I think I would give anything for just one day where nothing happened,” Marc said while he rubbed his face. “Just one day.”
“That’s asking for a lot.”
He shook his head, but sat up. He turned to Dynan and touched his forehead. Dain watched him, frowning a little when he got the same treatment himself. “What are you doing?”
“Making a shield. It’ll keep you safe from Maralt. He’ll get a nasty jolt if he tries taking you. Yes, I’ll do the same for everyone else I can. When Loren and Shalis get back, I’ll do them too.”
“How does it work?” Dynan asked as Marc turned to Dain.
“I don’t know. Just that it does. Can you hear me?” Marc asked silently.
“Yes.”
“Talk to your brother.”
“All right. Yes, he can hear me too.”
“Good. That means it works the way I want it to. I was thinking earlier to try something like it around the comterms and it just came to me that I could probably do it with you.”
“The comterms?” Dynan said. “You mean restrict access with a shield?”
“Don’t ask me how.”
“No, all right.”
“I haven’t tried yet.”
Ralion cleared his throat then, and Marc looked at him. “Are you going to tell them, or do I?”
“I think I’ll let you do that,” he said, and laughed under his breath. “I’m going to see to the others.”
Ralion waited until he’d gone before pulling up a chair. Dynan piled up a few pillows and made himself comfortable, listening as Ralion told them what Marc had done. He started shaking his head before too long, and Dain earned himself a dark frown when he started laughing.
“That’ll be the second time tonight he’s really scared the life out of Alvuen. The first time, he had good cause, but on the stairs—I bet you hear about it in the morning.”
“I thought we were under an alert,” Dynan said, still shaking his head.
“As soon as we got your father in, that was dropped. Another was issued when Maralt attacked, but apparently Alvuen was taking her time, and she was with Creal.”
“So they were both out when they shouldn’t have been.”
“Yes, but it was close. They’d only just gotten the alert and the guards had only just issued the order. They saw Marc coming and stopped where they were, and once he got to her, she couldn’t move.”
“Circling her,” Dain said. “I wonder why.”
“He had the same reaction to her when he landed on the balcony.”
“All right.” Dynan rubbed his eyes and frowned. “I’ll deal with this one in the morning.”
“There’s more. After we left Alvuen and Creal, we ended up down in the Medic Center. The trail Marc was following led him to Danetha. She has apparently taken to reading to the children down there, and well, Marc’s sudden appearance caused a bit of a stir.”
“I bet,” Dynan said, and groaned. “What am I supposed to tell them about this?”
“Danetha took it well enough. I’m not sure if that was because of all the little ones, or if she realized it was Marc.” Ralion smiled. “Her lack of reaction kept the children from getting scared.”
“Then what was the commotion?” Dain asked.
Ralion smiled again. “Marc stayed and played with them for a while, that’s what. I think he really didn’t want them to be afraid of him. Once they got a hold of him, we had a hard time leaving.”
“That explains his mood anyway,” Dynan said, then frowned. “He was following Maralt’s trail from here, and it led to Alvuen and down to Danetha. Great.”
“I’m not so sure that’s exactly right. From Alvuen he went up the guest wing stairs a little way, then turned back and then we headed down.”
“You think he lost it?”
“It seemed that way to me, but I’m not sure. Alvuen had just left Danetha. You know how much Marc dislikes her. I think he may have gotten confused because of that.”
Dynan nodded after a resigned frown. “In the morning. I’ll think of something to tell Her Majesty by then. I want word sent to the Beach Manor so that Shalis knows Marc is all right.”
“Any message for Loren?”
“I’ll talk to her when she gets in. Maybe. If I can. That’s all for now. Thanks Ralion.”
“Sure. If you don’t mind, I’m staying here tonight too. Just in case.”
“Is there a room?”
“Last one in the inn.”
Ralion left them and Dain frowned, realizing with his reference to Loren that he must have found out about Dynan’s plans. “So how many of us officially know about your intentions?”
Dynan glanced at him. “Marc knows,” he said then held up his hand. “I should have told him from the start. You were right. He told Father, and I had to tell Ralion because of the gems.”
“Dynan, I don’t think Alexia is convinced.”
“Hmmm? Neither do I. The little stunt she pulled yesterday with Danetha was proof enough of that. But I don’t think she knows about the gems.”
“What stunt?”
“I didn’t tell you? Sorry.” He went on to explain what had happened, but he hesitated and Dain felt certain that he was leaving something out. It didn’t take much to figure out what when he mentioned Morlin’s return. Dain glanced at him and Dynan pulled in a breath. “Yes Dain, Liselle is back, safe and sound.”
“You still think she’s innocent,” he said, knowing it was true.
“Because she is. She isn’t after the crown, if she ever was at all. She told me something that pretty well ensures she can’t ever be my Queen, so I’m not going to argue with you about her any more.”
“What did she say?”
“She can’t have children. She found that out with Gauvin. They went to a doctor about it. So it’s even on record.”
Dain had to admit that such an admission guaranteed she couldn’t be Queen, but he still couldn’t bring himself to trust her intentions. He wasn’t going to voice those doubts though, knowing it wouldn’t do any good. He didn’t want to argue about Liselle either. Dynan was waiting for him to say something, but anything he did say would likely start an argument. “I guess that means—”
“Did you know why Pop brought her here in the first place?” he asked and Dain hesitated long enough with the answer that he gave it away. “So everyone had a little part of the lie.”
“Not at first,” Dain said. “Not soon enough that you would believe me if I told you about being set up.”
“I wasn’t being set up. Pop brought her to the Palace to help. No, he never intended that I fall in love with her or that she fall in love with me, but that’s what happened anyway. It wasn’t a setup to intentionally hurt anyone.”
“No one told her to drug you.”
Dynan pulled in a breath and didn’t speak, burying a number of thoughts behind a wall that Dain had met before. “Look, I’m not saying—”
“Did you ever once stop and consider that you were wrong about her?” Dynan asked quietly.
“No.”
Dynan rolled his eyes. “Well why don’t you do that now? See what answer you come up with.”
Dain was about to say he already knew the answer, but Marc came back, looking at him apologetically. He knew what was coming next and wished he didn’t. “No.”
“Sorry. Those splinters have to come out.” He nodded behind him and Avry came in, looking about as enthusiastic as Dain felt.
“What is he doing here?”
“To help hold you down. Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
