Eleanor's arms tightened even more firmly about her daughter. The child then lifted her hands up to the sky, her fingers curling as if she beseeched some pet to come to her. It seemed as if the very air shifted, a sharp tang scenting the sudden breeze.

Within the shelter of the tower, the girl's sky magic might not have been useful, but here in the open...

Ca.s.s murmured soothing words to her horse. "Easy, boy. It will be just a bit of noise, a bit of rain."

She glanced behind her again. Fie, but she spoke falsely. Gray clouds gathered above their pursuers, following them as swiftly as any steed. Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed with blinding brilliance. Although they rode at the edge of the cloud, their own horses still shied at the noise, and they caught the backlash of the rain that the skies released.

Although it looked more as if a bucket had been dumped on their pursuers, a flood of water that washed their horses' legs from under them sent them twirling in circles of water. Men fell from their mounts, their cries m.u.f.fled by the deluge. Lightning hit the very ground among them, outlining quaking bodies with a glow before they collapsed into the puddles that had already started to combine into one shallow lake.

Lady Ca.s.sandra turned back around, gritting her teeth against the pellets of rain that struck like a flail on her face. She did not look at the child or at Thomas. She'd hoped they would accomplish their task without a loss of life. She prayed for the souls of the general's men as they left them far behind.

Thomas called a halt just within the forest, beneath a stand of oak, the heavy canopy of their leaves protecting them from the rainstorm the child had created. Ca.s.s leaned over and patted the neck of her lathered horse while Thomas had a whispered conversation with the girl's mother.

Ca.s.s glanced at the shivering girl. Cecily did indeed possess astonishing power. The descendants of Dewhame's ruler could alter water in small ways, but only Breden could call a storm. The girl surely would have been chosen, would have perished in an agonizing death by fire by Mor'ded's hand or... what? Did Breden drown his powerful offspring? Ca.s.sandra felt a sudden rush of rightness in rescuing Cecily, and thanked G.o.d for it.

Thomas walked his horse over to hers.

"How is she?" asked Ca.s.s, nodding at Cecily, who had collapsed within her mother's arms.

"She's just drained from the use of her magic. Eleanor is strong and can take care of the girl." His gray eyes appeared as dark as Dominic's in the dim light, but Ca.s.s thought she detected a glimmer of warmth as he spoke of the girl's mother. And indeed, Eleanor was remarkably beautiful.

"Thank you, Ca.s.s," murmured Thomas with feeling, and she noticed that the heat of his breath frosted the chill air with his words.

"Whatever for?"

"If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have found them. How did you know?"

Lady Ca.s.sandra shrugged. "An advantage to knowing the son, I suppose. I didn't think Mor'ded would risk keeping Cecily with the other children. He wouldn't risk exposing his charade."

"Clever, yes. But why did he surround them with such inept guards?"

Ca.s.s suspected Dominic had had a hand in that. Had he hoped the Rebellion would attempt to free the child? He'd felt so guilty for bringing the existence of Cecily to Mor'ded's notice.

Raindrops peppered the canopy above them, smacked Ca.s.s's head like dollops of melted ice, plunked against the ground in spreading puddles. Thomas reached over and took her hand, the warmth of it enveloping hers even through the cloth of his heavy gloves. "Come with us."

"I cannot. Even if I wanted to."

"You truly love the b.a.s.t.a.r.d, then?" Thomas shook his head, his golden hair plastered to his skull in a dark cap. "He will be the death of you."

Ca.s.s shivered, and not from the cold. She nodded at mother and child. "Can you hide them?"

"I'm skilled at stealth and disguise, you know." He gave her that rakish grin of his. "Your efforts tonight will not be in vain, I a.s.sure you. I will keep them safe."

Ca.s.sandra nodded.

"Lord Althorp?" interrupted the girl's mother. "We must get Cecily to shelter. She cannot withstand the cold in her weakened state."

Thomas quickly dropped Ca.s.s's hand and dug in his pouch, pulled forth a blanket and led his horse back over to theirs, gently wrapping the damp wool over the two. His strong hands lingered on Eleanor's thin shoulders, giving her a gentle squeeze of rea.s.surance.

"I must return before I'm missed," said Ca.s.sandra, feeling suddenly uncomfortable by Thomas's attentions to Cecily's mother. He had been her friend and admirer for such a long time.

Viscount Althorp tore his gaze from Eleanor's and frowned at Ca.s.s, as if he'd forgotten her presence. "Are you sure you won't come with us?"

She felt Eleanor's gaze upon her. "Very sure. Farewell, Father Thomas." His teeth flashed white in the darkness. "I hope... I hope that one day we can meet again."

And she turned her horse around as he led the others deeper into the forest, knowing she'd never see him again. He would have to hide deep to keep them safe. New ident.i.ties. A new life. Until the Rebellion had need of the child's gifts.

As Lady Ca.s.sandra made her way back to London, giving the newly formed lake a wide berth, she wondered if a half-breed's magic could ever be strong enough to stand against an Imperial Lord's. Once the Rebellion spread the word about the true fate of a chosen one, the people of England would fight to hide their children from the trials. Like this eve, many more men would die in their efforts to keep them safe.

a.s.suming the people would believe that the children weren't sent to Elfhame. It would be hard for many, who led such difficult lives, to give up the dream of a better life for their children.

And would the Rebellion save the children to challenge the elven lords, and lose their lives anyway when they failed?

Ca.s.s couldn't be sure. She only knew she could not stand by and let any child be sent to certain doom.

She avoided the streets when she entered the city, using what elven gifts she had to make her pa.s.sage as silent as possible through mews and alleyways. She came upon the palace through the forest that sheltered the elven garden where she'd professed her love for Dominic, the faint sound of the musical flowers almost bringing tears to her eyes.

To love among such misery only made it feel all the sweeter.

She left her horse with May's smitten stable boy, the yawning lad asking no questions about Lady Ca.s.sandra's wet and bedraggled appearance. The entire palace seemed to sleep, for she managed to make it to her apartments unseen. She had concocted a story about tending to a sick friend at her old school to explain her absence in the dead of night, but fortunately she didn't have to use it.

Her shoes still squelched as she entered her silent bedroom, and she quickly removed them, setting them quietly down by the door. The curtains around the bed had been drawn and only a soft glow from the fireplace lit the room. She c.o.c.ked her head, listening for the sound of her husband's deep breathing. Ca.s.s had left him a message that she would explain her absence when she returned. She would tell him the truth, and despite his ridiculous notions about her safety, she felt sure he would understand why she'd had to help Thomas.

She peeled off her wet stockings, managed to struggle out of the sodden dress and bodice, and had just started on the ties of her stays when she saw him.

He sat in a shadowed corner of the room, and at first she could see only the glimmer of his crystal eyes.

"Dominic?"

He did not answer. She slowly made her way across the room to him, almost afraid to approach his still form. He must be more angry with her than she had supposed. She started to babble.

"I had to help Thomas save her. Breden's halfbreed child. I... I could not let her face the trials. I know I've probably worried you, but I knew how guilty you felt about telling your father about the girl and so I thought you would forgive me-"

"Are you hurt?"

His voice sounded odd, the smooth elven richness of it changed to a gravelly whisper. She had reached the front of the chair, her damp petticoats brushing against his knees. He wore nothing but his breeches, his skin pale in the dim light.

"No. Just wet. Cecily, the half-breed, called down a storm on our pursuers and we caught the edge of it. But it allowed us to escape them, for Thomas to take them to safety-Dear Heavenly Father. Dominic, what's wrong with you?"

For her eyes had adjusted enough to see that his skin lacked its usual l.u.s.ter, that his face had seams of lines across his forehead, along the sides of his full lips. She reached out and laid her fingers on his arm, and he winced, pulling away from her. As if her very touch brought him pain. Then he leaned forward, every muscle in his body tense with sudden anger.

"I had planned on freeing her tonight, after the play," he growled. "With enough skill that no one would have suspected her absence until the morrow. When it would be too late to launch a successful pursuit. If you had but confided in me, I could have told you."

Ca.s.s tried to keep the sullenness from her voice. "You wouldn't have allowed me to help."

"No. Unlike your Thomas, I have a concern for your safety."

Would he never accept her competence in taking care of herself? "Thomas has faith and confidence in my abilities."

"Do not say that man's name again." His anger abruptly died and he collapsed back into the chair with a groan.

Ca.s.sandra fell to her knees. "Dominic, please tell me what's wrong with you. I see no sign of hurt, and yet..."

"Foolish woman," he whispered, as if his voice could no longer retain its usual timbre. "Did you not think that my father might come after you?"

"We had thought to take her in stealth but it did not go as smoothly as we had planned." Fie, she hated to admit that.

"It went better than you know."

He sounded so weak, as if he'd just returned from a battlefield. Had he been with the men who had pursued them? Had Cecily's spell caught him unawares? Ca.s.s did not understand, but instead of asking more questions she waited for his reply, a dreadful feeling twisting her belly.

"Father saw my lieutenant when he brought me news of the girl's escape. I could not keep it from him, nor could I ride after you, for Father would have joined the hunt. Fortunately your Sir Robert stood with us-"

She gasped.

"Ah yes. He's part of this Rebellion of yours, is he not? A clever man to have on your side, I wager. He questioned the importance of the girl, and of course, my father could not admit to it. So it gave me the chance..."

His voice faded, as if parched beyond speech. The feeling that had grown inside of Ca.s.s now solidified into a vague sort of terror. She rose on wooden legs, fetched a gla.s.s of water, and returned to hand it to him.

His hand shook as he brought it to his lips. She could not bear to see him so weakened, and collapsed at his feet again.

The water appeared to help, and as Dominic set the gla.s.s down on the delicate mahogany table at his side, his posture straightened. "I could think of no other way to distract him. I told him I felt the black magic within me, goaded him to test me in front of the entire court. And it worked."

Ca.s.s dropped her face into her hands. He'd made his father torture him with magic. For her sake. Dear Lord, how could she live with this? She had never had anyone make such a sacrifice for her, would never have expected it. She hadn't realized the way love could entangle lives. She had a greater responsibility for him now than she ever did for the Rebellion.

She lifted her head, met his eyes. "To say I'm sorry cannot erase your pain. And I cannot ask for your forgiveness when you have suffered so greatly. All I can do is promise that I shall never act without your knowledge again."

He grunted, leaned forward and clutched her shoulders, dragging her face up to his. "That is enough," he whispered. "d.a.m.n, it is enough that you have returned to me unharmed."

And then she could no longer stop the flow of her tears. But at least they were silent ones, running down her cheeks with nary a sob. He kissed her then, so tenderly it made her tears flow the faster, for surely just the touch of her lips caused him more pain.

"It has been long and long since anyone has shed a tear for me," he said as he pulled his mouth away from hers. "Father's black fire has an uncanny knack for lingering inside of me for a time, making me sensitive to the slightest touch. But it will fade."

"Is there naught that I can do?"

His lip twitched. "Get out of those wet underclothes and join me in bed. It will help if I'm nude atop the covers. Can you manage to lie beside me without touching me?"

Ca.s.s sniffed. "You are entirely too arrogant in regard to your beauty."

"Will it help to know that it will be torture for me not to touch you as well?"

Lady Ca.s.sandra rose to her feet and considered. He looked a bit better already, the hint of a smile lingering on his mouth. "Yes, my love. It does."

When they finally settled beside each other on the bed, Ca.s.s could not help admiring the lean sight of his body. "Does your hair hurt?"

"It wouldn't surprise me if it did; but no, I think not."

She wrapped her fingers in the long length of it. It lacked its usual silver sheen but still felt like silk within her palm.

"I told you," he murmured smugly.

Ca.s.s sighed and brought the locks to her cheek, breathing in the faint spicy scent. No, she could not help but touch him.

"My magic is still not strong enough to defeat my father. Despite Ador's words, I fear it may never be."

"G.o.d will grant you the strength when you have most need of it."

She felt his body stiffen in doubt, but he did not shush her when she began to pray. Indeed, he drifted off to a peaceful sleep on the sound of her words.

Ca.s.sandra felt as if she'd barely closed her eyes when the stench brought her awake. Dawn light filtered into the room, highlighting the planes of Dominic's body, making his skin shimmer. She glanced at his hair still tangled about her fingers and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it had regained its silver l.u.s.ter.

And then she coughed.

Ca.s.s rose as quietly as she could and followed the smell, staring out her window with disbelieving eyes. A ribbon of blackness stretched from the palace through the city almost as straight as a road, nothing but rubble in its path, the far end of it flickering with red fire, a cloud of black smoke hanging above it.

She felt Dominic join her, heard him curse, but could not tear her eyes away from the devastation.

"What has happened?" she breathed.

"My guess is that Father regained the full strength of his powers this morning. And that your Thomas has managed to get Breden's half-breed out of Firehame. Mor'ded hasn't had a tantrum like this for many years, and never through the heart of London. The n.o.bles will be annoyed by the loss of their fine mansions." He turned and began to pull clean clothing out of the wardrobe.

"What are you doing?"

"I must stop the fire before it does any more damage."

Ca.s.s quickly retrieved her own clothing. Black. Again. Yet she could think of no better color to wear in soot. "How?"

"With fire, of course. I will start a blaze to combat the one still burning-what do you think you're doing?"

"Coming with you."

He stilled for a moment, those fathomless midnight eyes staring into her own. "This is not your fault."

She did not agree but knew the futility of arguing with him. "So many people will be hurt, Dominic. I must help them if I can."

He pulled on the coat of his red uniform, secured a black cloak about his broad shoulders. "Do not slow me down."

Ca.s.sandra nodded, s.n.a.t.c.hing a plain woolen mantle, struggling into it while following on her husband's heels. She pulled the hood over her head as they made their way through the eerily silent palace, and stayed beneath that covering while Dominic gathered up a troop of his men, gave orders to many others. She rode her black stallion, who had become hers by the simple fact that he allowed no other to approach him.

They rode hard through the streets of London, on parallel roads untouched by the fire, until they reached the end of the blaze. Dominic guided them directly in its path, behind several buildings that the fire had not yet reached. He ordered his men to clear the buildings, but most people had already fled, except for a lame old man and his grandson who had refused to leave his side.

At first the pair stared at Dominic with cold hatred, and Ca.s.s suspected they thought he was Mor'ded, but when they caught sight of Ca.s.s and studied her husband's uniform and face, their expressions changed, and they waited and watched with the rest of the general's men.

Dominic seemed to struggle to call his power, perhaps still not fully recovered from last night's ordeal, and Ca.s.s sidled her horse up to his, reached out to touch his arm. He glanced at her but a moment, his eyes shimmering with determination, then held up his hands. Gray flame burst from his palms, crawling over the buildings before them, smothering the red fire from the top down. But the red slid beneath his magic, igniting the buildings, smoke pouring through open windows.

The heat of the flames burned Ca.s.s's cheeks and robbed her of breath.