"Mirris, bring a candle."

Chiana struck steel to flint and the wick sprang to life. Mireva peered into the flame-giving it all she had, Marron thought, greatly amused-muttering to herself while the princess fidgeted. At length a wide smile broke across her face, revealing artfully blackened teeth.

"Your Greatness will be granted her dearest wish: to enter Castle Crag as a princess."

Chiana sat forward, snared. "Have you seen it? What else? Will I rule there? Will my son?"

"Slowly, gently! I have seen many things. Deaths. . . ."

"Whose?"

"Two men. Fair-haired, much alike, from a land that burns."

"Rohan and Pol!" Chiana laughed. "But what of Sioned? Does she die, too?"

Mireva's face twitched slightly. "Her death . . . is written."

Marron kept his face smooth-not that either paid him any mind. Sioned frightened Mireva. She would have denied it if asked, but he knew the High Princess was her target even more than Pol.

Chiana burbled with glee. "Wonderful! When? Tell me when!"

"Before the next Rialla. Rialla. Your Worshipfulness must prepare herself for a long, difficult fight-I see soldiers, horses-" Your Worshipfulness must prepare herself for a long, difficult fight-I see soldiers, horses-"

"What?" the princess exclaimed angrily, the candle flame almost guttering with her breath. "There won't be any war. The Desert and Pricemarch have us on two sides, and Syr is on a third. Kostas would come to his Aunt Sioned's aid in an instant."

"It will be difficult, Your Mightiness. But there is no other way to win Castle Crag."

The words had the desired effect. Chiana's eyes sharpened with the look of a starving woman shown a banquet through a window.

"I will will have it. Rinhoel will rule all Princemarch from Castle Crag-" have it. Rinhoel will rule all Princemarch from Castle Crag-"

"No." Mireva let the word fall like a stone. "I see a name, but it is not that of your son. A kinsman. Close. Very close to you."

"I have no brother and my father is dead. Who else could claim Princemarch, once Pol is-" She paled suddenly. "No! Not Kostas' son by Danladi! My son will inherit! My My son!" son!"

"No," the old woman repeated. "The one who will rule Princemarch is Ruval."

Only for as long as it takes me to kill him, Marron thought. Marron thought.

"Ianthe's son," Mireva whispered.

Chiana's delicate knuckles whitened around the candle, "Ianthe-!"

"Ruval, Your Wisdom's nephew, will reclaim-"

"Not if I can help it," was the grim reply.

"If Your Magnificence will indulge an old woman-please, look into this mirror. It will help me see more clearly."

Marron reminded himself to ask how long it had taken to think up all the honorifics-and then lost all impulse toward humor as the mirror was turned, angled at the princess. Chiana slid to the floor on her knees with the candle barely secure in lax fingers, lost.

Shaken, he locked his own knees and clenched his jaw shut. He knew about the mirror hidden in the back room of Mireva's hillside dwelling; this one looked older still and was undoubtedly even more powerful. They had really known how to make mirrors back then, had his diarmadhi diarmadhi ancestors. . . . ancestors. . . .

The reflected candlelight illumined Chiana's face in smoky gold. Mireva's voice crooned to her, soft and unthreatening.

"Your son will never rule Princemarch. That is reserved for those of the oldest blood. But there is a way to gain Castle Crag. Support Prince Ruval in all he does. If you wish to see Sioned burn in her own Fire, obey me. If you wish vengeance on the Sunrunners who jailed you in childhood, you will obey. If you wish to enter Castle Crag as a princess. . . ."

"I-will obey," Chiana whispered, her voice like death.

"And when you do, you will be strong. I will give you this mirror to remind you. Keep it with you always. Look into it by starshine every evening. If you wish to live. . . ."

"I will obey."

"Leave us," Mireva said over her shoulder in a completely different voice. Marron gave a start. "Now," she added sharply. And he fled.

Chapter Seven.

727: G.o.ddess Keep.

Andry came from a family whose members had no difficulty expressing themselves. In fact, Chay had observed more than once that Tobin never shut up, even in her sleep. But it was a long time since Andry had spoken to any of his relations with complete honesty, saying precisely what was on his mind-or in his heart-without hesitation. Time and t.i.tles had come between them and him. But today he would change that. He had to, if they were to survive.

Everything was ready in the long room above the gates-the goblets, the Sunrunner at his side, even the clothes Andry wore-all of it exactly as Andry had planned, and as Lady Merisel mentioned in her writings. Though she warned against symbols rather than endorsing them. "Symbols stand for power. But don't mistake one for the other-as my enemies often did, poor things. And don't allow the symbols to make you forget what they should help you remember. The rings are only as strong as the hands wearing them." "Symbols stand for power. But don't mistake one for the other-as my enemies often did, poor things. And don't allow the symbols to make you forget what they should help you remember. The rings are only as strong as the hands wearing them."

Two of his chosen symbols-the goblets-waited to be filled with wine and dranath. dranath. Actually, he'd taken a lesson from Rohan in this: Rohan who knew how to use expensive things to impress and, if he wished, to awe. Look at Dragon's Rest, Andry thought, or even Stronghold's Great Hall. Or even the High Prince himself when he wanted to remind certain people of exactly who he was-clad in rich silk and gleaming gems and that ultimate symbol of his authority, his coronet. But Rohan could show up bareheaded, barefoot, in peasant woolens, and still dominate everyone-with the living symbol that was Sioned at his side. Actually, he'd taken a lesson from Rohan in this: Rohan who knew how to use expensive things to impress and, if he wished, to awe. Look at Dragon's Rest, Andry thought, or even Stronghold's Great Hall. Or even the High Prince himself when he wanted to remind certain people of exactly who he was-clad in rich silk and gleaming gems and that ultimate symbol of his authority, his coronet. But Rohan could show up bareheaded, barefoot, in peasant woolens, and still dominate everyone-with the living symbol that was Sioned at his side.

Andry had not yet reached a time when he could dispense with the props. But he could wait. The goblets were for himself and Nialdan, the clothes for the Sunrunners a.s.sembling now in the courtyard. Nialdan himself was a symbol of sorts, though the young man would have gaped at the very notion. Though Andry was a tall man, well-made and muscular, Nialdan was built like a tree. He topped Andry by a head and outspanned him in the shoulders by two hands. Brown eyes regarded the world patiently from a brown face below reddish-brown hair. Nialdan wore six rings that had not come from the coffer Andry inherited with his position here-the Waesian's smallest finger was as thick as any other man's thumb. He didn't just knock on a door; he dealt it a mortal blow, and his rings had to be specially made.

For him, too, a special goblet had been fashioned, shaded with the browns and russets and greens of his mind. Colors were symbols, too, and the gems that Sunrunners used to define them. The Star Scroll was rife with jewel symbology. A faint p.r.i.c.kling of irritation stung Andry when he thought of the scroll.

He'd invited Maarken to look at the illuminated final copy just that morning. His brother had more comments for the delicate drawings than for the text-because he had seen the copy Urival had made in secret and taken with him to Stronghold three years ago. The copy Andry wasn't supposed to know about.

Maarken inspected the painted capitals, the tiny marginal sketches of various plants mentioned in recipes, and the star cl.u.s.ters that headed each division of topics. That he did not read more than a few words here and there was indication enough that he had no need to. Andry wondered if his brother knew how completely he had given himself away.

Not that reading would have done anyone any good. This was a direct translation, exactly as Lady Merisel had dictated it-but lacking the little markers that indicated lies. Anyone attempting to cast a spell or concoct a potion using this version of the Star Scroll would be sadly disappointed.

The accurate copy resided in Andry's chambers. He supposed Maarken knew about that one, as well. Today Andry would show him the uses to which he had put it.

He knew how Urival had used the other copy-an accurate one, G.o.ddess d.a.m.n the old man. When he'd died late last winter, Andry had almost asked for its return along with the few things of Andrade's sent back to the archives after Urival's death.

What he'd really wanted, though, were the rest of her rings-or what remained of them. Maarken had reset the chunk of amber into his wedding necklet; Sioned sometimes wore the emerald on a chain around her neck; the ruby now graced Tobin's coronet. Chadric had inherited the sapphire, given to old Prince Lleyn who had been Andrade's friend. Chay, Rohan, and Pol had the other stones-the last being the most irksome to Andry. Pol wore the moonstone as unsubtle reminder that he was a Sunrunner, even though he hadn't been trained at G.o.ddess Keep.

Andry sometimes took out the garnet Urival had given him after Andrade's death, but had never quite been able to bring himself to wear it. The old man had left the tenth ring on Andrade's finger, token of the wedding ring he would have put there himself if they had been ordinary folk. But the chains that had connected all the rings to bracelets on Andrade's wrists had been fashioned into a delicate, un.o.btrusive necklet worn for the rest of Urival's life, and burned with him in the Desert.

Andry wanted those rings back. Years of studying the Star Scroll and the histories unearthed with it on Dorval had convinced him that there was more to the symbolism of gemstones than pretty tradition. But to ask for them would alert Pol to their possible significance, and this he refused to do.

And then there were the mirrors, the most frustrating of all Merisel's enigmatic little hints. "If you find a sorcerer who possesses a mirror, exile the sorcerer "If you find a sorcerer who possesses a mirror, exile the sorcerer-but shatter the mirror." Just that one sentence. No explanation, no elaboration. Andry, who had fallen a little in love with Merisel through her vivid writings, had long since decided that at several hundred years' remove, she was fascinating-but that face-to-face she must have been several hundred different kinds of h.e.l.l to deal with. Just that one sentence. No explanation, no elaboration. Andry, who had fallen a little in love with Merisel through her vivid writings, had long since decided that at several hundred years' remove, she was fascinating-but that face-to-face she must have been several hundred different kinds of h.e.l.l to deal with.

Nialdan waited placidly beside him for Torien to come up and announce that everyone was a.s.sembled and all was in readiness. Anyone else would have been fidgeting by now; Nialdan merely planted both big feet on the floor and stood as motionless and patient as a pine. Andry found the man's solidity soothing, especially after the long night behind him and in view of the tough work ahead.

Valeda had given him a daughter just before dawn. Hollis, here with Maarken on a visit all hoped would help heal the troubles no one ever talked about, had a.s.sisted in the birthing room. Andry had seen her holding the new baby earlier today, and his heart filled with compa.s.sion. One of her reasons for coming to G.o.ddess Keep was to consult the Mother Tree. Her twins, Chayla and Rohannon, were five winters old and there were no signs of more children. But, judging by her determinedly cheerful expression after a brief disappearance the other day, the tree circle had not shown her what she wished to see. Andry still remembered being shown what he wished to forget.

He shut his eyes and let the visions form behind his lids, dyed red with the sunlight streaming onto his face, awash in the color of blood.

The day of the ceremony that would make him Lord of G.o.ddess Keep (Oh, Sweet Lady, let me be strong and worthy-), he went to the tree circle. Naked, shivering a little in the crisp autumn air, he knelt before the pool below the rock cairn and plucked a hair from his head to float on the Water, symbol of the Earth of which he was made. He'd always considered this a gentle, harmless ritual-a minor use of power, a quaint little ceremony reminding him of his origins in and kinship with the Elements. He called Air and the Water ruffled; he summoned a fingerflame and set it dancing atop the rocks. Lovely in the morning sun, warm and bright- First the children-faces in rapid succession, vanishing too quickly for him to receive more than the vague impression that they all had his blue eyes.

Then the chaos. Swords, steel-tipped arrows, horses gutted and dying, men and women warriors scythed down like harvested wheat. Battle. Blood. Radzyn demolished, Stronghold in ruins. His parents and brothers and all his family destroyed. G.o.ddess Keep a smoldering wreck of shattered stone clinging to the sea cliffs, Sunrunners never to ride the light again.

And finally the stars. Uncounted pinp.r.i.c.ks of blinding light, like daggers thrusting straight up from the bottom of a deadfall. He hurtled toward them in an endless plunge into darkness punctuated by stars. The sorcerers' stars.

It was Sorin who woke him, running headlong into the circle where no one not faradhi faradhi was allowed. "Andry! Andry, wake up!" He was shaken roughly, opened his eyes, and saw his brother's fear-paled face. He clung to Sorin, grateful for the warm strong arms around him and the presence that, but for the one vital gift, was twin to his own. was allowed. "Andry! Andry, wake up!" He was shaken roughly, opened his eyes, and saw his brother's fear-paled face. He clung to Sorin, grateful for the warm strong arms around him and the presence that, but for the one vital gift, was twin to his own.

How Sorin had felt it was a mystery to them both. They had heard of how Maarken, after his own twin died of Plague, wandered Radzyn lost and haunted, calling for the second self always there and now gone. But what they shared was stronger-perhaps because they were older, or because Andry was a Sunrunner even more powerful than Maarken.

Since then, Andry dreamed occasionally of what the G.o.ddess had shown him. Once it happened while Sorin was at G.o.ddess Keep, on a quick visit before sailing for Kierst to supervise the making of tiles for Feruche. Andry had been shaken from the dream as he'd been from the vision, his brother's hands frantic on his shoulders and his brother's voice crying out his name.

"What does it feel like?" Andry had asked as they waited for dawn beside the hearth, wrapped in blankets and gulping mulled wine.

"Like when we were little, and one of us had a bad dream." Sorin's brows arched speculatively. "You never told me the details then-"

"Neither did you. We were a prideful little pair, weren't we? Never could admit to being that scared." Andry smiled.

"-and I don't suppose you're going to talk about it now, are you?" Sorin finished as if he hadn't been interrupted.

"No. Sorry. It's bad enough that I I see-what I see. If I told you, you might start dreaming the same thing. And it might bounce between us all the way to Feruche and back-and neither of us would ever get any sleep." see-what I see. If I told you, you might start dreaming the same thing. And it might bounce between us all the way to Feruche and back-and neither of us would ever get any sleep."

Andrade had always emphasized that the G.o.ddess showed what might might come to pa.s.s. "Nothing is written in stone-and even if it were, stones can be broken." He wondered sometimes what she had seen of the future. come to pa.s.s. "Nothing is written in stone-and even if it were, stones can be broken." He wondered sometimes what she had seen of the future. Did the G.o.ddess tell her to marry her sister off to Zehava? Or was that to change a future she didn't happen to like? Did she ever see Pol? Or me? Did she realize what work I have in front of me? Is that why she chose me as her successor? Or did she see someone else, and pick me by default? Did the G.o.ddess tell her to marry her sister off to Zehava? Or was that to change a future she didn't happen to like? Did she ever see Pol? Or me? Did she realize what work I have in front of me? Is that why she chose me as her successor? Or did she see someone else, and pick me by default?

Not what he ought to be thinking right now. As for what everyone else would think-he couldn't bring himself to care about any of them but Maarken and Hollis. They had to understand. The Sunrunners here could be frightened, horrified, shocked, or awestruck. It didn't much matter which. His brother had to understand and explain it to Rohan and Sioned and Pol.

But he admitted to himself that he didn't much care what they they thought, either. If Rohan considered him power-hungry, and Sioned was affronted by his uses of power, and Pol felt threatened-too bad. thought, either. If Rohan considered him power-hungry, and Sioned was affronted by his uses of power, and Pol felt threatened-too bad. They can look on this as they like, so long as they don't hinder me. I can keep that vision from becoming real. This is my work to do, my warning from the G.o.ddess. Only-please, Gentle Lady, let Maarken understand. They can look on this as they like, so long as they don't hinder me. I can keep that vision from becoming real. This is my work to do, my warning from the G.o.ddess. Only-please, Gentle Lady, let Maarken understand.

He gave a violent start when Nialdan cleared his throat. The big man shrugged an apology. "Sorry, my Lord."

Andry smiled thinly. "Uproot yourself from the floor and go see what's keeping Torien."

"Yes, my Lord."

With Nialdan gone, Andry could give in to nerves and pace. He was used to circling a room; the gatehouse was long and narrow, and the change in pattern unsettled him even more. He stopped by the table again and poured wine into the goblets for something to do with his hands. The dranath dranath sifted down from his rubbing palms, fine powder vanishing instantly into the green-gold wine. sifted down from his rubbing palms, fine powder vanishing instantly into the green-gold wine.

"My Lord?" Nialdan came back in, leaving the staircase door open behind him. "Torien says they're about ready. He'll be up in a moment. Oclel's making doubly sure about the swords and arrows."

Oclel was Nialdan's good friend and the only man at G.o.ddess Keep big enough to give him a decent workout with a sword. Born in Princemarch of a huntsman's daughter and a soldier who had fought for Roelstra in 704, Oclel had married the mother of Andry's elder daughter. Andry preferred it so. Rusina had not wanted the child he'd given her on her first-ring night. Already in love with Oclel, she bore Tobren grudgingly and had wanted nothing to do with her from the day of her birth. Another woman had nursed the child, and Valeda took care of Tobren's need for affection.

Othanel, mother of his only son, was another matter entirely. Triumphant in her pregnancy, she kept little Andrev close and barely allowed him to play with other children, as if fearing contamination. She was possessive and jealous, barely able to hide her fury when first Rusina and then Valeda bore Andry's children, and not bothering to hide her glee when both women birthed daughters.

Contemplation of Rusina's anger and Othanel's ambition brought an uncomfortable memory of his mother's stinging rebuke at the last Rialla. Rialla. When he'd tried to explain that both babies were too young to travel, Tobin had exploded like heat lightning across the Desert sky. When he'd tried to explain that both babies were too young to travel, Tobin had exploded like heat lightning across the Desert sky.

"What are you afraid we'll see? Children conceived not because you care a d.a.m.n about their mothers-which you don't-but because you want your own little brood of Sunrunners? Not even Andrade went that far!"

"Didn't she? What are you and Rohan but her experiments in faradhi faradhi royalty? Not to mention Pol!" royalty? Not to mention Pol!"

Maarken had come by later that night. Man-to-man reasoning left Andry unmoved, but when Maarken's temper flared he capitulated. He had never gone against his adored eldest brother's wishes in his life.

And, truthfully, he didn't regret the meeting last summer in Syr. Time spent with Andrev and Tobren had softened his mother's wrath. Sorin made the journey from Feruche to High Kirat, Maarken came with his family from Whitecliff, and Tilal from Athmyr. Kostas, a father now himself, presided over the whole noisy crowd with a sardonic grin. The eight children-Andry's, Maarken's, Kostas', and Tilal's-had seemed bent on demolishing anything that got within reach of their fists, including, on occasion, each other. For ten days it was almost as if they were any ordinary big family.

Rohan, Sioned, and Pol had sent their regrets. Andry understood perfectly. They would let the others make the initial moves toward peace. Thus this current visit by Maarken and Hollis.

It fit in perfectly with Andry's own plans. He knew now the method by which he would change that future of horror and blood.

Maarken had to understand.

Torien appeared at last, visibly annoyed by the delay. "But everything's ready now, my Lord. They're waiting for you to begin."

He nodded and gestured to Nialdan, who emptied his goblet in two large gulps. Andry took a little longer at it, savoring the slow pulse of the drug in his body. He had been careful to use only enough for an increase of power-he'd heard from Maarken how Hollis had suffered after her addiction to dranath. dranath. He didn't want that for any of his people, and certainly not for himself. But the augmentation of gifts was too important to reject He didn't want that for any of his people, and certainly not for himself. But the augmentation of gifts was too important to reject dranath dranath completely. completely.

When he could feel its effects-soft heat in his cheeks, a tingling in his groin, a flush of energy through his body-he straightened his clothing and went to the balcony that overlooked the courtyard. Taking another lesson from Rohan, he had chosen his clothes carefully: wool trousers dyed red, white shirt and short white tunic. Radzyn's colors, meant to remind Maarken that whatever he might witness today, they were of the same place, the same heritage.

"Your cloak, my Lord?" Torien murmured behind him, and he shook his head. A breeze off the sea quickened the air, but he wasn't cold. He never was, except in the depths of winter. The joke around G.o.ddess Keep was that he'd soaked up so much Desert sun in childhood that he'd never feel anything but the worst blizzard the Father of Storms exhaled from the icy heart of the Veresch.

Many of those below him were in warm woolen gowns and tunics, with cloaks against the wind. Several wore the hoods pulled up-perhaps to keep their ears warm, and perhaps to hide their reaction to whatever shocking innovation Andry was about to present. He shrugged, but made mental note of them anyway. They could be sent elsewhere for duty and cease to trouble him. Again he thought of Urival, whose removal from G.o.ddess Keep had been no guarantee of lack of trouble. Whatever Pol now knew of faradhi faradhi arts, it was too much-because Andry had not been the one to teach him. arts, it was too much-because Andry had not been the one to teach him.

This wasn't the time to think about that, that, either. He rested his hands lightly on the smooth balcony rail and surveyed the a.s.sembly with justifiable pride. The Sunrunners, students, and servants of G.o.ddess Keep numbered over four hundred-two-thirds of them either. He rested his hands lightly on the smooth balcony rail and surveyed the a.s.sembly with justifiable pride. The Sunrunners, students, and servants of G.o.ddess Keep numbered over four hundred-two-thirds of them faradh'im faradh'im at various levels of expertise. at various levels of expertise.

In Andrade's time there had been as many non-gifteds here as Sunrunners. The reason was not talent, but money. Prior to Andry's rule here, students were required to give to G.o.ddess Keep that share of their parents' wealth that would have dowered them. No prejudice was attached to the gift's size; the price of a few sheep, all Nialdan had brought, weighed equally with the substantial slice of Radzyn's wealth that had been Andry's portion. Indeed, it was this princely sum that had allowed him to cancel the dowry custom. Parents loath to sell off goods for the stipulated cash were now perfectly happy to send gifted sons and daughters to become Sunrunners; the other children benefited through increased dowries. Andry had brought with him more than enough to make up for any loss of income. It afforded him a certain grim amus.e.m.e.nt to wonder how Rohan would have worked it out if Pol had come here; he he was dowered with all Princemarch. was dowered with all Princemarch.

They probably would have done what Chay and Tobin did with Maarken-told Andrade that if she wanted Whitecliff (his dowry while his father lived), she could come collect it lock, stock, and paddock.

But Andry had insisted on giving the whole of his fortune to G.o.ddess Keep. He could have had almost any place he wanted in the Desert, a manor or castle and honors befitting the son of the Battle Commander and the grandson of a prince. But this keep was all he had ever wanted. Now it was his. And, thanks to him, wealthier and more populous than Andrade had ever dared hope.

And all of them looked to him for guidance. No one, not even those chosen for this demonstration, knew of his terrible vision and the dreams that haunted his sleep. Caution told him they must trust him for himself, not out of fright of a dreaded future. They must follow him because they believed in him, give him loyalty, dedicate themselves to him so that when he finally revealed his reasons, faith would conquer fear. They must be certain to their bones that he would teach them how to use their gifts against the coming battle and blood.

He could not glimpse his brother's head in the crowd, and so looked for Hollis' distinctive tawny hair. Where she was, Maarken would be. At last he located them by the well. He murmured to Torien, "Take my brother and his lady closer to the gates. I want them to have an un.o.bstructed view."

"Yes, my Lord."

Andry drew in a deep breath and addressed his people. "Since faradh'im faradh'im left Dorval to end the sorcerers' control of the princedoms, we have been forbidden to use our gifts to kill. This is a wise law. Without it, we might have become hired a.s.sa.s.sins like the Merida, our honor the price of a wineskin-or worse. left Dorval to end the sorcerers' control of the princedoms, we have been forbidden to use our gifts to kill. This is a wise law. Without it, we might have become hired a.s.sa.s.sins like the Merida, our honor the price of a wineskin-or worse.

"But in reading the scrolls left by Lady Merisel, who led the Sunrunners with her husband Lord Gerik and their friend Lord Rosseyn, I discovered something. They and their faradh'im faradh'im went into battle alongside their allies- went into battle alongside their allies-and they used their gifts to protect."

He waited for this to sink in, then continued. "The concept of warrior faradh'im faradh'im was as astonishing to me as I know it is to you. But the fact remains that they were. And it was only was as astonishing to me as I know it is to you. But the fact remains that they were. And it was only after after the so-called Stoneburners had been defeated that the law was made forbidding us to kill with our gifts." the so-called Stoneburners had been defeated that the law was made forbidding us to kill with our gifts."

Torien had reached Maarken by now, and was urging him politely toward the main gate. Andry ignored the little rustling they made through the crowd. He also did himself the favor of ignoring the many faces eloquent with suspicion that he was about to un-make that particular law.