CHAPTER ELEVEN

"Give it to you?" Riordan's hand closed protectively about the Sword's hilt. "Not likely."

She backed away from the entrance, baiting Rau to move toward her. As if of its own volition, the Sword slid an inch from her scabbard. Bloodlust flooded her veins. In a distant cavity of her mind, she could hear her own better judgment clamoring for attention. But it was as if the Sword wrapped the fist of its will around her mind and squeezed. She wanted Rau's blood. She wanted Rau's soul.

"You think you're a match for the Sword of Zal-Azaar?" Her voice sounded strange, even to her own ears. Confident, more mature. "Come then, Doan-Rau. Throw your life upon the Sword, like so many before you."

Rau's brow creased. He took a hesitant step toward her. "The Sword is meant for me. To complete the final step in my great plan."

"You expect me to make a gift of it?" Her voice fell to an incredulous whisper. The Sword slid another inch from her scabbard.

"Join me, Riordan. Can't you see that mine is a superior vision?" Words, sincerely spoken, devoid of malice. "Think of it. The entire coast united under one flag. Prosperous ports, proud cities, wealth beyond your wildest dreams."

Those softly spoken words terrified her more than anything else. Rau left nothing proud nor prosperous in his wake. Only death and destruction. "There is nothing in your...vision beyond pain and suffering!" Fear fed her anger, putting into words something she'd suspected for some time. "And for what? What did my family die for, Rau? For your shallow glory? So you can win your father's throne?"

Her comment hit its mark as surely as a stroke of her sword. He absorbed the blow with a wince. The grimace deepened, spread.

His face folded in on itself, contorting in the anger that swiftly followed. Rage darkened his skin to crimson. Sapphire eyes were the only feature recognizable in that twisted expression. His fist snatched at thin air, tightening as if around her throat. With difficulty, the Prince brought his temper back under control.

"Have you not the slightest vestige of imagination? We would be greater than the Shraal themselves. All this," he waved his arm in a grand arc, "is but a temporary step, minor discomforts to be borne for the better good."

"The better good!" Riordan shrieked back at him. Her hand tighten on the Sword's hilt, freeing it further still. "No good can come from any of this. You razed my entire kingdom. In death, my family, my subjects prowl the countryside, deprived of even the dignity of their graves."

Kill him, the Sword's essence whispered in her brain. Kill him and be done with it. Vividly, she pictured herself doing just that. She flexed her hand to draw the Sword.

Rau noted the tiny movement in her hand, read the denial in her stance. He inched toward her, and with each footstep his wrath grew. "What a fool I've been! I offered you a place at my side, a place of honor in my great kingdom. But you would rather throw my goodwill to the wind. You'll live to regret your decision, Your Majesty."

Craggy quartz pressed into her back. No route of escape, except past the madman before her. A roar of utter fury erupted from Rau's mouth. He lunged.

Footwork being her strength, Riordan neatly sidestepped the arc of his swing. Razor-sharp metal clove rough crystal instead of her throat.

"Your great kingdom. I liked my kingdom as it was! It's you who lack vision, Rau. Peace and prosperity are not concepts in your philosophy."

Again she regretted her losing her sword to him on the night of Nhaille's ill-gotten ambush. Rau's possession of her sword reduced her options to slitting his throat with the Sword of Zal-Azaar, or dying by her own blade in a madman's hands. She should have climbed down after him when he'd fallen. But never had she expected a dead man to scale a mountain. Or to raid his pack for her lost sword. She evaded another swing meant to decapitate her.

Rau tensed, preparing to swipe at her again. A crystal tone rang through the chamber. The Sword, pleading for its freedom. Its will battered her defenses, until the lust for his blood churned in her veins.

Don't make me do this, Rau. But her silent prayer went unanswered. In a silver streak his sword descended upon her.With a single undulating note, the Sword of Zal-Azaar sailed free of its scabbard. In the subdued light the thin blade of crystal seemed to hover between them.

A challenge.

Smooth crystal vibrated beneath her hand, sending tiny tremors up her arm and down her spine. Coldness pressed against her flesh as the icy fingers of its will caressed mind and soul.

Rau's lifeforce glowed like a beacon in the center of the room. The Sword hungered for it, demanded its hunger be appeased.

Beneath the Sword's iron will, her own was flattened.

With grace far beyond her own, Riordan swung the Sword into position. Rau's blade crashed against it, hard enough, it seemed, to shatter the delicate blade. But the Sword of Zal-Azaar effortlessly absorbed his offensive. Like other Shraal wonders, the Sword was deceptive in its strength.

Lost now to all but the Sword's insistent demand for Rau's blood, Riordan launched herself off the wall, lunging for Rau's heart.

He parried and returned with a killing blow of his own. The Sword deflected it easily, intent on skewering the Prince to the glass wall. Desire shot through her veins. Pure, hot rage. Disoriented, Riordan drowned in it.

She flung herself at Rau. One look at her face and his eyes widened. He took an involuntary step backward. Riordan sent the Sword crashing down upon him.

Metal collided with crystal. Rau brought his sword between them in a last-ditch parry. The blow reverberated up her arm.

She lunged, striking low, desperate to get past his guard and grant the Sword the blood it craved. Superior swordsmanship saved him. The Prince retaliated. The Sword deflected the tip inches from her heart. Forgoing all pretense at dueling etiquette, Riordan swiped at him again. Lust, terrifying in its intensity rippled through her, commanding her to tear past the insubstantial barrier of Rau's flesh and devour his soul.

And then what? Would it be like the dream? Would a tiny piece of Rau live forever lodged in her soul? Gods, Nhaille, where are you when I desperately need answers?

Riordan bore down on him. His back collided with the wall. Gripping the Sword with both hands, she swung. Crystal shattered as the Sword crashed into the space Rau's head had occupied. Strengthened and refined by lost Shraal technology, the Sword was far stronger than the stone that birthed it.

Rau whirled out of the Sword's reach, glory forgotten, intent only on saving his soul.

Rage, as thick and black as tar, poured into her mind, blanketing all other thoughts. Riordan fled after him. Rau bolted for the door. Riordan blocked his escape.

"Don't do it, Riordan."

The unexpected voice broke Rau's concentration. Riordan closed in for the kill.

To find her path blocked by Nhaille's Sword.

The Sword's fury seared through her mind.

"Stand aside, Captain." Her voice sounded flat, hollow. The Sword's words, not her own. Inside her, the Sword raged against the denial of Rau's soul. She turned toward Nhaille to remove this new obstacle against the Sword's will.

From the corner of her eye, a black shadow moved. Before she could cry out, Nhaille's sword lodged against Rau's throat. "Not so fast, Haelian swine."

Denied its chosen prey, the Sword's utter fury intensified, until she was conscious of nothing else. Not her joy at Nhaille's return.

Not her fear, nothing but the lust for Rau's soul. "Get out of the way, Nhaille," she repeated in that same inflectionless voice. "He's mine."

"No."

"I'm flattered, but surely you could share the honor," Rau said dryly.

"The blood price is mine," Riordan snarled. "More is at stake here than honor."

"Exactly, which is why you mustn't kill him."

"I am the Queen. I'll decide who will die." Rage soared within her. Her sword hand quivered. Its tip wavered toward Nhaille, intent on taking any life it could if Rau's was denied.

What am I doing? Her mind cried out in horror. She wrenched her muscles against the Sword's will, succeeding only in moving the blade a fraction of an inch. Nhaille is my dearest friend. I'd give my life for him.

The corners of Nhaille's mouth tightened. She read the fear in his face, but he held his ground.

"You can't, Riordan. It's too soon." He cast a furtive glance at Rau. "You've not been prepared. If you allow the Sword to take his life, you could lose yourself. The Sword would possess you totally."

Is that what she'd experienced in the vision? Would that horrible feeling of posession and violation be her fate if she took Rau's life?

Rau snorted in disbelief. "You Kanarekii are truly a pathetic lot. It will be no loss if your strain dies out."

Fury undoing her, Riordan sprang.

"No!" Nhaille leapt between them. He parried the Sword, preventing Riordan impaling Rau on the crystal blade. His next swing deflected Rau's blade aimed for Riordan's throat.

Nhaille's interference only served to drive her anger to untapped heights. She swung, at Rau and met the resistance of Nhaille's sword. He swore, the only evidence the vicious blow hurt him.

No! This isn't right. But she found she wanted Nhaille's blood with a passion that shook her to her very core. And Rau wanted the Sword with a passion that matched hers. He cut low, trying to get around the Captain's defenses.

Nhaille returned the blow. Swords met, hilt to hilt. Panting with exertion, the two men glared at each other over their blades.

Riordan lunged between them, knocking their swords apart with one sure stroke of the crystal blade. They sprang away like startled cats, en garde against each other and the crazed demon with the Sword.

Facing them both, its tip wavered with indecision.

"Riordan, listen to me. You can't do this!"

She turned slowly toward Nhaille's voice. The Sword fastened its attention on his soul.

Yes! the Sword screamed within her mind. Having been denied, it was anxious for anyone's blood. With a cold pang of fear, she suspected even hers would suffice.Against the smooth crystal floor, her bare foot shot forward. Gods, no. Anything but this. It can't end this way after all Nhaille and I have sacrificed. But her feet had developed a will of their own, as had her sword arm that even now was flexing to drive the Sword of Zal-Azaar's point through Nhaille's chest.

Rau laughed maniacally. "Oh yes! Kill him, Riordan! What an ending it'll make to the Ballad of Kanarek. The valiant Captain struck down by his own Queen." He chuckled again at his own cleverness. "I couldn't ask for better had I done the job myself."

Riordan froze, the slender blade poised just inches before Nhaille's chest. There has to be a way to master it, to impose my desire upon the Sword and use it's unholy desires for my own purposes.

"Don't hesitate, Your Majesty," Rau taunted. "Kill him. And join me. Together we will rule the coast!"

"No!" Her shout of defiance shook the chamber.

She whirled, throwing herself at Rau. Too late, he floundered for his sword. With one swipe of the crystal blade, she knocked it from his hand. It clattered to the floor inches beyond reach.

The Sword roared through her mind, deafening her to reason, to Nhaille's desperate shouts. She slammed her knee into Rau's stomach. He doubled up. She slid the Sword under his chin.

Rau froze. He glared at her over the crystal Sword, sucking in a painful breath. "Well, Your Majesty, it would seem you've found your courage."

"And what would you know about courage, Haelian coward?"

His jaw tightened. He moved to thrust her away from him. But with the Sword's heightened senses, she saw through that maneuver. Riordan flung herself against him, leaning on Rau with all her strength. A trickle of fresh blood ran down the side of his neck and into his collar.

"And how do you like the feel of a sword at your neck, Rau? Are you enjoying this as much as I am? You see that's the problem with your strategy. If you win only by subjugation and terror, there are too many people who'd be willing to drive a sword through your back."

"Fine for you to criticize," he shot back. "It wasn't me who sat idly by while others snatched my kingdom right out from under me."

Riordan drove the Sword's blade harder against his neck. Rau gasped.

"And you still don't have the courage to finish it, do you, Riordan?" He spoke her name softly, like a plea.

In her mind, the Sword shrieked to be appeased. She glared into his eyes.

"How little you know me, Rau," Riordan said.

And leaned on the Sword for the killing stroke.

The blow came from nowhere. Knocked wide, she saw the silver streak of the Sword flying over her head to crash with a ringing note to the stone floor. Breath squeezed from her lungs. She felt the weight of Nhaille's body pressed along the length of hers.

Suddenly there was a roaring silence in her mind where the Sword's insistent shouts had been, and she was conscious only of Nhaille pinning her to the ground. For a moment they lay that way. Her hands gripped his arms, unsure whether she wanted to pull him closer or push him away. Embarrassed, he scrambled off her.

Rau recovered first and dove after the Sword of Zal-Azaar.

Nhaille's sword slammed against his chest. "Don't move, Your Highness. Rest assured, it will not bother my soul to kill you." The Prince's eyes shifted from Riordan huddled against the wall then back to the Sword of Zal-Azaar.

"Don't even think of going for the Sword," Nhaille said quietly.

Their attention distracted, Riordan scrambled after the Sword.

"No, Riordan, don't touch it!" Nhaille's attention wavered, torn between restraining Rau and preventing her from snatching up the Sword.

Rau seized the opportunity. Shoving Nhaille away from him, he bolted for the entrance. Caught off balance, the Captain swung his sword, narrowly missing Rau as he fled across the threshold. Riordan's fingers closed upon the Sword.

Rau's footsteps echoed down the corridor into silence.

Riordan glanced up at Nhaille towering above her.

"Put it down, Riordan," he said, as she climbed dazedly to her feet.

Riordan felt the first tendrils of the Sword's will wrap around her mind. With a cry she shoved it into her scabbard and sagged against the wall.

Sheathed, the Sword's influence dissipated slowly. She dragged in a breath of air and tried to clear the fog from her mind.

Nhaille glanced regretfully in Rau's direction. Frustration, followed quickly by anger crossed his face. Picking up her lost sword he tossed it back to her. "Do not be so taken with the Sword that you forget the basics of combat."

The Sword's presence in her mind subsided, leaving behind the realization of what she'd nearly done.

A deep sob, wedged inside her since they'd left Kanarek, burst free. She attempted to choke it back and failed.

Cautiously, Nhaille crossed the distance between them. Satisfied she wasn't going to draw the Sword and run it through his heart, he drew her into his arms. She looked up at him, read the deep lines of concern on his face.

"Gods, Nhaille, it was in my mind."

He scrutinized her face, making sure she was in control of herself again. Finally, he sighed in relief. "I know."

"I couldn't think. It made me do..." she glanced at him, then quickly away, "things I didn't want to do."

Nhaille's arms tightened around her. "I know, Riordan. I know."