commented the woman thoughtfully, reaching for a crystal goblet circled with gold. "'Twill be soon, methinks."

"Aye." The man raised his goblet in a silent toast. "The game is going well."

"The game." She touched her goblet to his, a soft ringing filled the air around them. "The lovers," she whispered.

THIRTY-TWO.

"What have you done?" Shock filled Christiana's voice, making her words slurred and unintelligible. She cleared her throat, licked her lips and tried again. "You stupid s.l.u.t,"

she hissed, finally noticing Tempest's torn clothing and disheveled appearance. "What have you done?"

"I have killed Sardon di Mercia," Tempest answered calmly, staring at her mother.

"Sardon? You have killed Sardon? Tempest, have you gone completely mad? That is William Mirabelle who lies 'midst the rushes...not Sardon di Mercia."

"Nay, Mother. 'Tis Sardon."

Christiana went to the body and turned it over. William's eyes were closed, his lips open. His face had a bluish cast, and when she touched his skin, 'twas cold as death. "Look upon his face, you shandy simpkin," Christiana spat. "Does this look like Sardon?" She grabbed Tempest's hand and pulled her down closer to William. "Look at him!"

"Mayhap it looks like William," Tempest tried to explain to her distraught mother, "but 'tis still Sardon di Mercia. He had a ring which..."

"Ring?" Christiana would not listen. "Of course he had a ring, you fool. All n.o.bles wear rings. William was a knight, a very rich knight, and you have killed him." She shoved Tempest away from her and the body of William Mirabelle, causing her daughter to tumble backward into the rushes.

"Mother, I..."

"He was rich," Christiana continued, ignoring her daughter's attempts to explain. "He offered a huge bride price for you. He asked for nothing to take you off our hands. Nothing.

We would not have had to worry or do without ever again. I could have had new gowns, made of the finest velvets. New slippers. Jewels..." She glared.

"Mother, he attacked me." Tempest was filled with disgust as she remembered his hands upon her body, his lips, s...o...b..ring and wet against her skin. Her gorge rose as she tried to erase those terrible moments from her memory and it took an almost inhuman effort to keep from losing the contents of her stomach.

"He tried to rape me!"

"Rape?" Christiana screeched. "He was your betrothed.

You were to wed in only a few days. He had every right to the use of your fat, ugly body." She stood over Tempest, furious, hands on her hips as she continued her tirade.

"If William wanted the use of your body, you should have acquiesced. He had the right. G.o.d, how stupid you are. Why was I cursed with such a child? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid." She kicked out, but Tempest was ready as she rolled out of the way and rose quickly to her feet to stand against the tapestried wall.

"Mother, you must listen to me." She had to explain, to convince Christiana of her innocence. "I had no choice. He was an evil man. 'Twas not William who attacked me. 'Twas Sardon."

"Sardon is dead, I tell you!" Christiana screamed shrilly.

"William killed him. He told me so before he came to you. He wanted to settle things with you before your wedding. Sardon is dead! Do you understand me, you imbecile? DEAD!"

Christiana stalked closer, her face mottled and ugly, in her rage, her hands fisted at her sides.

"William is dead. Sardon killed him and returned here. He used his ring to look like William. He was able to take any form he chose with that ring. Mother, you have to listen to what I am telling you." Tempest was frustrated. She did not know how to make herself any clearer. "I had to use my power to stop him. I had no choice."

"Power? Choice?" Christiana was pale, her eyes wide as her hand flew to her mouth. "She told me," she whispered.

"She told me I would suffer. She said I was greedy and selfish.

She told me everything would turn bad, just when I thought all

was perfect. She cursed me with her dying breath. You are that curse!"

"Curse? She? What are you talking about, Mother? There has been no curse."

"My mother. She had red hair like yours. She was a witch and they burned her for it." Christiana rubbed her hand wearily across her forehead. "She had everything I wanted...jewels, beautiful clothes, love. My father loved her more than he ever loved me. I hated her for it and she knew. She would look at me and smile whenever he gave her gifts, as if to say. "He loves me more than you." She enjoyed tormenting me, knowing how much I needed my father's love. And I was glad, glad when they burned her. I was glad when my father gave me in marriage because I had grown to hate him, too."

"My grandmother was a witch? They burned her?" Shock made Tempest shiver, made her knees grow weak. She clung to a chair to keep herself from falling to the floor.

"Aye, they burned her," Christiana repeated, hatred making her eyes blaze with madness. "Just as they will burn you. Witch!

And when they do, the curse will be lifted, and I will finally be free!" Christiana swung but not with her open hand as was her wont. She used her fist, and it connected painfully with Tempest's eye before she fully realized her mother's intentions.

She tried to back away, to avoid those hard blows. She raised her hands to ward them off, but Christiana changed tactics.

She shoved Tempest against the wall, momentarily knocking the breath from her. "I will destroy you! You have ruined my whole life!" she shrieked as she grabbed Tempest's hair and began slamming her already injured head against the hard, rough stones.

Tempest tried to push her away, to untangle those hurtful fingers from her hair, but failed. Christiana was extraordinarily strong in her rage and madness. Tempest began to fear for her life.

She felt the power rising. From deep within her soul she felt her witch's power, her birthright. She tried to dampen it, to put the flames of anger from her, but she met defeat as the power grew, consuming her mind and body with its fury. It

grew, encompa.s.sing her, feeding her fear, changing it to anger, then to rage, as it stole her will, her rationality, and, like the true witch she had become, she used it.

She could not stop the magic as it shot from her fingertips.

She could not stop the lightning as it arced into her mother's body. She could not contain it. She tried. The G.o.ds knew how she tried to stop those lethal bolts, but to no avail, and they slammed into Christiana's body with ruthless force. Without a sound, her mother crumpled at her feet.

Silence crept through the room, through Tempest's mind, through her soul.

"Mother?"

There was no answer; Christiana did not move. There was only silence.

Tempest knelt beside her mother and reached out to gently caress her cheek, but there was no reaction. She cradled Christiana's body in her arms, rocking her.

"G.o.ddess, no," she moaned. "I have murdered my mother.

I will suffer d.a.m.nation for eternity for this deed. Mother, please do not die. I did not mean to harm you." But there was no response. The silent room became oppressive. Silence beat down upon her and she slumped, head bowed, wishing she could die, wishing to be anywhere but in this room holding Christiana's lifeless body, wishing for the tears she could not shed.

"Tempest." Adrian's beloved face came to her befuddled mind; his voice soothed her. "Come to me."

Adrian. She must to go to Adrian. He would help her. He would take care of her. She needed to get to Adrian.

Tris...Tristan would help.

She found Tristan with Marisa in the stables.

"Tempest?" Tristan was shocked at his sister's appearance.

Her eye was swollen and rapidly turning black, her pale blue surcoat ripped, her dark blue undertunic torn from shoulder to wrist and her face and arms scratched. He pulled her over to the stable doors and touched her face gently. "What in the name of the G.o.ds happened?"

"Tris," she flung herself into his arms and clung to him, trembling violently. "I have killed them!"

Tristan held her tightly, rubbing and patting her back to try to steady her. "Calm yourself, little one, and try to tell me what has happened."

"I killed them, Tris. I killed Sardon...and...Mother," she whispered.

"Sardon?" Marisa exclaimed in shock. "You killed our priest?"

"You WHAT?" Tristan was sure he had misunderstood her. "Tempest, you must calm down and tell me what happened.

You are not making any sense."

"Sardon killed William." Tempest took a deep breath, reluctantly left Tristan's comforting arms and walked over to Marisa. "Marisa, I am so sorry. I did not want you to find out this way. I could not stop them. Sardon used his powers to control William and me. He..."

"Nay! Not my father!" Marisa sobbed and turned to Tristan.

"Tris, tell me 'tis not so. Not Father!"

Tristan took the distraught maiden into his arms. He lifted her chin and looked into her blue eyes. "Tempest never lies,"

he said gently. He led Marisa to his workbench and lifted her onto his lap, holding her tenderly. "Tell us what happened," he said to Tempest as Marisa leaned against him, sobbing in her grief for her dead father.

"Sardon told William that he was responsible for Clairesse's death. He told us how he had locked William in the tower so he could not save her. Sardon wanted Clairesse dead, and he made sure William could not stop it." She watched Tristan gently rock Marisa as he rubbed her back and tried to calm her.

"William was so angry, Tris. He said he would kill Sardon.

They went into the forest and..." She could not continue. She pictured William's death in her mind and it was too horrible to contemplate.

"Sardon used his ring to make himself look like William and came to my room while I was resting. He...he..." Deep shudders wracked her body, and her voice trailed off..

"He what, Tempest?" Tristan took her hand, pulled her to the bench beside him. "What did Sardon do to you?"

"He tried to rape me." She was calmer now, her words flat and emotionless. "And I killed him. I used my power, and I killed him with cold. Freezing cold. He is dead and I am glad."

"Sardon di Mercia tried to rape you?" Tristan's face grew red with anger as she nodded her head. "Then he was an evil man, and he deserved to die." He hesitated, dreading his next question. Not really wanting to know the truth, but needing to know the answer. "Tell me about Christiana," he continued, holding his breath as he waited.

"She..." Tempest hesitated, trying to find the words, trying to swallow around the huge lump that suddenly formed in her throat. "She came into my room and saw Sardon lying on the floor. He still wore the guise of William and she thought I had killed William. I tried to explain, Tris, I really tried, but she would not listen. She raved about all she would lose because William was dead. She was so angry." Tempest shuddered again, unable to continue.

Tristan waited patiently for her to find the words. Christiana always was a greedy b.i.t.c.h, he thought. If she were truly dead he could find no remorse in his heart. She had belittled and mistreated Tempest all her life, and he would be glad to see her gone. He knew how much his father loved her, but at last there would be peace in Castle Windhaven. But, William...how would Marisa manage without her father? Who would be her protector now that William was dead?

"Tempest," he urged quietly, "tell me about Christiana."

"I...Mother..." She drew a deep breath, trying to find calm in the storm of emotions that filled her aching heart. "She...she told me about her mother. About...about my grandmother's death. Then she started hitting me. She shoved me and grabbed my hair and beat my head against the wall. She said...she said I was her curse. I...I... G.o.ddess, Tristan, I used my power against my own mother. I hit her with the magic that was in me, and I killed her! I murdered my own mother. I do not deserve to live," she wailed.

"Nay! She meant to kill you, Tempest. You but protected yourself. You did what you had to. "Twas not murder."

"'Twas murder, Tris. At that moment I wanted her to die."

"Ah, sweet little sister, what are we to do? You cannot stay here. You will be convicted and burned. I feel it, sweetling. We must get you away. But where do we go?"

"Adrian," she whispered. "I will be safe with Adrian."

"Adrian?" he queried. "I do not know where he is."

"He is in the deep forest." She looked into his green eyes, so like her own. "Lysira's cottage is some distance from where you and William found me, but I can find it."

"If you can find the cottage, so can others."

"Nay, 'tis well hidden. She has magic and can keep others from finding it if she so desires."

"Then we go to Lysira."

"I must go alone. You cannot involve yourself in this. They will accuse you. And you must stay here to take care of Marisa."

"I cannot send you out there alone, and I cannot leave her here alone. Tempest, I-"

"Tristan?" Marisa had ceased her wild sobbing, but tears still streamed down her pale cheeks as she looked up at him.

"Take me with you."

"'Tis a hard journey, Marisa. I fear for you."

"I am strong." She lifted her tiny chin and gazed trustingly into his eyes. "I know you will care for me."