But how? Why could she not see the man's true form? 'Twas quite obvious to him.

"Sweet Adrian," Tempest smiled as she reached up and gently brushed a stray lock of golden-blond hair from his forehead. "You were sorely injured when I found you under my tree. You were unconscious for days and had a high fever.

'Tis probably just that which makes you see such strange things.

It will get better with time. I promise."

"Mayhap," he said thoughtfully as he tucked her head under his chin and stared sightlessly into s.p.a.ce. "But I know what I saw."

Tempest watched Adrian as he sat in the big chair next to the fireplace. He was staring into the flames, but she sensed his thoughts were far away. She wanted to call him back to her bed and nestle in his strong arms again but was loathe to disturb him. She sighed and looked up as the door opened.

"How are you feeling, sweeting?" Miriam asked as she entered the room, carrying a covered tray.

Adrian looked up from his place by the fire, and his jaw dropped. 'Twas the lizard-man. But this time his form was far different. This time 'twas Miriam's face covering those reptilian features.

"Get out, h.e.l.lsp.a.w.n creature!" He growled, his voice low and menacing. "I will not have you near her again, monster!"

He rose to his feet and advanced slowly toward Sardon.

"Adrian!" Tempest exclaimed, bewildered by his reaction to her friend and mentor. "I will not have you speak to Miriam that way. Ever. Do you understand me?"

"'Tis not your Miriam, Tempest," Adrian said, his hands fisted at his sides, his eyes never leaving Miriam's face.

"Look at it! Use your powers to see the truth."

Tempest stared hard at Miriam but could see only her friend.

She threw back the fur cover and clambered hastily from the huge bed. She could not allow Adrian to harm Miriam.

As she ran toward them, she smelled a familiar odor of musty decay. The sweet, spicy essence a.s.sailed her senses, making her mind reel. She stepped in front of Adrian and faced Miriam.

"Miriam?" she whispered. "What...?"

Deep in Miriam's eyes she could see a darkness blossoming, reaching toward her. The darkness grew, and once again she was a.s.saulted with the malodorous scent of rotting flesh. She swayed and would have fallen were it not for

Adrian's strong arms suddenly encompa.s.sing her. His strength flowed like a raging river into her mind and body until she stood straight and steady, facing Miriam.

But it was not her friend she faced. She could see that now. The body in front of her looked like Miriam, but it was encircled by a thick aura of impenetrable blackness. The darkness gradually took form, and she found herself staring into the obsidian eyes of a black dragon-a dragon with the eyes of Sardon di Mercia.

Tempest fainted.

Adrian's arms tightened around her as she swooned. He lifted her into his gentle embrace as he faced Sardon.

The man/dragon stood tall and proud before Adrian, a slight smile curving his thin lips. "You make a formidable team," he said. Then he twisted the glowing, black opal ring on his finger and vanished.

The woman shook her head, raven tresses tumbling in disarray, as she looked away from the pulsating blue crystal ball. "She has the power to see," she said. "Why does she need him as a catalyst?"

"She is yet young," the man replied, picking up a chess piece, idly turning it in his hands. "If we push too hard it may break her, and that would end the game."

"Aye," the woman mused as she leaned her arm on the gold-inlaid table, resting her chin in her delicate, beringed hand. "After all, the game is everything, is it not?"

"But of course, my dear. And you know that one wrong move from the Bishop and the Queen will destroy him."

"But in the end 'tis the King who will do final battle and either win or lose the game." She smiled as she reached to move the white knight.

"Quite right, my dear," he agreed. "And now I believe 'tis my turn."

NINETEEN.

It seemed like every person Tempest met in her father's huge demesne smelled like Sardon. After he had come to her room in Miriam's shape, she felt she could trust no one unless she smelled that person first. She was beginning to feel a little foolish, and the serving people were looking at her strangely.

Four times, in as many days she had ferreted out the man in different guises. She was as jumpy as a cat in a kennel of hounds.

She found Adrian in the garden-after a full morning's search. He was slumped dejectedly on a stone bench, staring into the distance, and did not notice her as she sat beside him.

"Adrian?"

No answer.

"Adrian?" She touched his arm. "Where are you, Adrian?"

she asked softly.

"Who am I, Tempest?" he asked as he looked at her, his blue eyes filled with pain. "I have been trying to remember, but all I see is emptiness. I do not even know my true name.

Why do you call me Adrian? Why that particular name? G.o.ds how I wish I could just remember something!" He pounded his thigh in frustration.

"I called you Adrian because you remind me of a beautiful golden dragon I once met," she answered with a smile. "You are big and golden, much like him. I just thought the name fit you."

"A dragon named Adrian?" His short burst of laughter startled her. "'Tis the silliest thing I have ever heard. Dragons have names like T'bor or L'sira..." His voice trailed off, and he paled, "or A'dryan." His intonation was a deep growl with clicks

and pauses. "But my father could not p.r.o.nounce it, so he called me Adrian," he whispered.

Tempest was silent for a long moment, unable to comprehend the name he had spoken or even how he had said it. She decided to ignore that surprise for the time being.

"You remember your father?" She held his hand, pressing it gently. "What else do you remember? Who is your father?

Concentrate on him, Adrian. Close your eyes and remember."

He closed his eyes, trying to recall his father's image. "He is dark. They call him Demon Knight. But he is human. He..."

"You quest uselessly, stripling." Sardon's words startled them. "You will not remember. You see an untruth, put into your feeble mind by your desires. Nothing more." His scathing words cut deeply.

Quickly Adrian rose to tower over Sardon. "I will kill you, lizard," he growled menacingly.

"And how do you plan to accomplish this great feat, Boy?"

Suddenly Miriam stood in his place. "Will you kill me?" Her form slowly segued into Christiana's. "Or me?" she asked sweetly. "Or would you kill your beloved's father?" Now Wendall was standing where Tempest's mother had been. "Will you eliminate the entire populace of this puny, so-called castle?"

With mocking laughter he vanished, leaving behind the stench of putrescence and spice.

Adrian raised his clenched fist and bellowed, "Come back and fight, you cowardly lizard. I will hunt you down and destroy you. Before the G.o.ds, I swear to remove your ugly, smelly carca.s.s from this earth. I will tear you to shreds, Sardon di Mercia. This I vow!"

"You cannot destroy what you cannot find, youngster." The mocking words flowed around them like cold honey. "I will kill you soon enough. You cannot harm me, weakling."

His maniacal laughter filled the air around them. Then the garden grew silent, neither bird nor squirrel dared make a sound.

Tempest and Adrian shared a trencher at the evening meal, but she ate very little. She could not banish the sight of Sardon

changing from Miriam to Christiana to Wendall, and his horrific laughter still echoed in her mind.

Adrian ate heartily, as always, but his mind too was distracted. Tempest intuitively knew what he was thinking about.

"Are you still trying to recall your father?" she asked quietly.

"Aye. I can see his face, but I cannot recall his name," he answered absently. "Why am I able to see him but not my mother?"

"Let it go for tonight, love. We will try again on the morrow when you are rested. I am sure you will remember more. Just be patient."

"Love?" he said, a lopsided smile spreading across his face.

"Am I your love, little one?"

Tempest was spared an answer as the serving maid brought them each a fresh goblet of wine. She smelled mint-an overpowering scent of mint. She looked at the maid but could detect nothing unusual. The girl worked with herbs all day; mayhap she had been crushing dried mint earlier. Tempest relaxed and drank deeply of her wine.

Looking around the room, she saw Sardon sitting by the great fire in the corner of the hall. As she watched him, his body shimmered for a moment, becoming almost transparent.

Tempest rubbed her eyes, took another sip of the wine and looked at him again. Nay, he looked solid. Her imagination was playing tricks. She felt so weary. It had been a long day.

"Little witch." Adrian's voice broke her concentration.

"You did not answer me. Am I your love?"

"Adrian..." Rattled, Tempest dropped her goblet.

She watched the red wine flow across the table like a dire omen, like newly spilled blood. "Curses."

"Here, drink mine," said Adrian, offering her his goblet.

"I prefer ale. You are so pale, Tempest. You look like you could use it."

Tempest gratefully accepted the proffered goblet and drank deeply. The wine tasted sweeter than usual, with an underlying bitter tang. She quickly drained the goblet, hoping it would

revive her.

But the wine did not help. Dizziness overwhelmed her as pain struck deep in her stomach. Her eyes watered. She took a deep breath and swallowed, hoping it would help. She was just too tired. She needed to lie down. Sleep would help.

"I am tired," she announced to her parents. "If you will excuse me, I shall bid you all a peaceful night's rest."

"Tempest." Christiana's stern voice was a distant echo.

"'Tis impolite to leave the table before the lord of the manor.

You know that. Sit down and wait until we are all finished."

"The child is tired, my dear," said Wendall. "You may leave, Tempest. Sleep well."

"Tempest?" Adrian rose to help her.

"I am fine," she said. "Good night, my heart. Dream well."

She ran her fingers softly along his cheek and walked from the room.

The pain hit again when she reached her room. It screamed through her belly then slithered up her throat, making her gag.

She swallowed desperately. Yet another horrific spasm launched her recent repast into her throat, and she spewed what little she had eaten upon the floor. Hanging on to the door frame, she pulled herself into the room and collapsed in a heap. Still conscious, she pulled her pain-filled body slowly toward the bed, forced to stop in the middle of the huge room as another spasm hit. Again her stomach tried to empty itself, but there was nothing left to eject, and she curled into a fetal ball, panting and retching.

The room spun around her, and into the whirling maelstrom she cast but one word-a name. "Adrian." She tried to scream, but could only whimper as pain engulfed her.

Adrian heard her call, felt the pain engulf her body, and his heart beat wildly as he took the narrow, winding stairs two at a time to get to her. He cried her name as he stepped into the room and saw her curled tightly in a small ball, lying on the floor.

Tempest she felt his strong arms lift and cradle her tortured body. His soothing words of love and comfort soothed her as she closed her eyes.