She billowed her cloak out about her, wrapped her arms around her bent legs, pressed her cheek against her knee, and held on tightly. She chanted softly, so softly the prince couldn't hear her. Time pa.s.sed. She chanted until the water seemed to flow along with the cadence of her chant. Suddenly she was gone. She'd told him not to worry, d.a.m.n her witch's powers. Where had she gone? Then he knew.

"Ah, Brecia. Is it you?"

"My lord Mawdoor. Thank you for bringing me up from the well bottom. I knew that if I spoke directly to you, you would release me."

"It was a difficult decision," Mawdoor said, looking her up and down. "By all the new G.o.ds whose power I spit upon, you made yourself into a powerfully ugly old crone. That gives a wizard pause."

"I thought the narrow head was a nice touch."

"It was. I freely admit it. It convinced me not to look beyond that small bit of magic I felt coming from the two of you. The magic was distant, weak, no real power in it at all. Now I have you. Was that not a well-executed trap?"

"Aye, the cask at the bottom of the wella"that was very well done of you, Mawdoor. And the key was gone. Do you have it?" He only frowned at her. She hoped he had the key. She knew that Mawdoor didn't realize he hadn't been what brought her out of the well. She'd sent out the thought and he'd snapped it up.

He nodded, smiling. "The prince will remain at the bottom of that well until time itself ceases to go forward and the earth stalls and withers beneath the heavens. The bands of magic that hold him cannot be severed, no matter how strong the wizard. He will spend all of eternity stroking that d.a.m.ned cask. To be in a well with a demon's chesta"it's a dreadful thing. It is a quite perfect punishment for the d.a.m.ned wizard. Forget the key."

Brecia said, "I thought you had made the decision to keep the demon cask with you. Does that not mean that you must bear the responsibility of it?"

Mawdoor shrugged. "I suppose the ghosts told you of this. They seem to thrive on tales of lost caskets and magic keys that unlock the secrets to the universe. As to the cask and my responsibility to it, we will see. But the prince will stay there until the day of doom, if such a day ever comes."

Brecia tapped her foot up and down, and stroked her chin with her fingertips. "That makes no sense, Mawdoor. You have me now. Why would you want to kill the prince?"

Mawdoor became a foot taller, towering over her. "The prince must die. I've always wanted him gone from this earth. He had you, didn't he? He was your first lover, wasn't he?"

Slowly, she nodded. "Aye, he was my first."

Mawdoor brought himself back his normal height again. He looked down at his boots for a moment, then said, "I have heard it said that the prince makes his women do unnatural things."

For the moment, she forgot her fear and her plans and perked up. "Hmmm. What sorts of unnatural things?"

"You know what I mean, Brecia."

"No, I truly don't. I was innocent. I think everything he did seemed very normal mayhap even too normala"boring, mayhap, nearly sent me off to sleep, if you know what I mean."

The water in the well heaved and churned.

Mawdoor looked at her, blinked. "You say what he did was so boring it sent you off to sleep? Ah, what, specifically, was boring?"

"Why he rubbed his toes against mine and kept rubbing until I thought my skin would be raw from it. That was boring. Don't you think?"

"He rubbed your toes with his?"

"Aye, for an interminable time. I thought perhaps it was some sort of wizard mating ritual. Do you think that is unnatural?"

Mawdoor shook his head. "No, you're right, that was boring. I wouldn't rub your toes, Brecia. Or if I did, it would just be for a moment."

"What is unnatural, then?"

She was still wet from her stay in the well. Mawdoor lightly touched his fingers to her sleeve. Instantly she was dry, her hair shining beneath the afternoon sun.

He said, eyeing that glorious hair of hers, "Tell me what else he did and I will tell you whether it is natural or unnatural."

"He chewed on the flesh behind my knees."

"Hmmm."

"Is that unnatural?"

"Yes, that is unnatural, if done in excess."

The water in the well bubbled as madly as a boiling cauldron, nearly overflowing.

Brecia shook her head. "No, he did it only about twenty minutes." She paused, frowned. "One candle did burn down, so maybe it was longer."

"He is obviously mad. You are blessed to be rid of him."

Brecia smiled. "There were all the other things he did, Mawdoor." She shuddered delicately.

"What, d.a.m.n you?"

"I cannot tell you, it embarra.s.ses me."

"It is said that he has his women on their knees in front of him, and they must see to his needs until they swoon from fatigue."

Brecia nodded slowly. "Aye, I can see how that would be tiring. And your knees would grow sore. He did not have me do that. Would I be praying whilst on my knees in front of him?"

"You stupid witch, you would have his s.e.x in your mouth until your jaws locked and you gagged until you couldn't breathea"if he is of a size, that is, to make you gag."

Her eyes lit up. She said, a wealth of disappointment in her voice, "He didn't show me how to do that. Now that doesn't sound boring. You say he would want me to do that for hours on end?"

"So it is said about the prince, d.a.m.n him. But now I've got him, and he will dissolve in the water over the endless years ahead."

"It still makes no sense, Mawdoor. Why keep the prince entrapped? Why not let him roam the land alone, without me, contemplating his defeat at your mighty hand? Surely that would be a punishment worse than floating at the bottom of a well, all relaxed, holding your father's cask to his chest."

"I see the deceit in your eyes, Brecia." Mawdoor clasped her throat in one big hand and tightened his fingers, but Brecia only kept looking at him, so calm she looked bored, c.o.c.king her head slightly to the side, which was difficult to do with his hand around her neck.

He said right in her face, "d.a.m.n you, you have tried to bring me low, Brecia. All I wanted to do was mate with you, make you my wife, have you birth incredible wizards, but just look at what you and the prince tried to do. What you would still like to do."

His fingers tightened about her throat.

"Kill her, Mawdoor! Kill that ugly b.i.t.c.h!"

"No, I won't kill her," Mawdoor shouted over his shoulder, never looking away from Brecia's face.

"In that case, let her go, and I will kill her!"

Mawdoor slowly turned, taking Brecia with him, to see Maida standing twelve feet away, two of his wolfhounds at her side.

Mawdoor shouted, shaking Brecia's neck, "This doesn't concern you, Maida. Get back inside."

"Last night you told me that you wanted me to stay with you. If that is true, then why do you want this creature?"

Mawdoor yelled at her, "Can't you see I'm choking her?"

"You're doing it with l.u.s.t in your eyes. Let the wretched woman go, let me kick her in the head."

Mawdoor gave Brecia a good shake, and again yelled at Maida, "She isn't a woman. She's a witch."

"A witch? Aye, she looks like one, doesn't she, the hag? Just looking at her makes me shudder."

Brecia's eyes narrowed. "And just what does that mean? Make me shudder? I'll make her shudder."

Maida yelled, "Aye, it's obvious to me now that she is a witch, and you're choking her, but she doesn't feel it at all. She's hanging there and she's laughing at you. Aye, she's making fun of you. My lord, she isn't worthy of you."

Maida went flying backward and landed on her back, the breath knocked out of her.

Mawdoor dropped his hand from Brecia's neck, and she landed lightly on her feet. He said, "You did that, didn't you?"

"Of course," Brecia said, smiling to herself even as she rubbed her neck. "I'm a witch."

"I bedded her," he said. "I enjoyed her. I will continue to enjoy her after we are wedded."

"I believe she broke her leg when I threw her against the wall, Mawdoor. Maybe I broke her neck as well. Is she gagging, lying there with her arms twisted at such odd angles?"

He turned quickly and ran to where Maida was lying on the ground. Brecia heard the woman screeching, "The witch! Kill the witch!" and Mawdoor saying, "Be quiet, woman. That witch will be my wife. Are you all right? Are you broken?"

Brecia smiled, watching the woman grab his arm and shake him. All his attention was on her. Brecia looked skyward and began chanting. When she stopped, after just two breaths had pa.s.sed, everything else stopped as well, including Mawdoora"thank the G.o.ds.

Time froze.

Only the wind moved, fanning the warm air in her face. She looked toward Mawdoor, locked in the instant that time had stopped. He'd left himself vulnerable by touching the woman, letting her humanness into himself. He was concentrating on her, feeling anger, hate, lovea"it didn't matter. And thus the spell worked on him as well.

The earth stood still and one very strong wizard as well. But not for long, not for long.

She ran to the well and called down, "Prince, would you like to join me in some unnatural acts?"

She heard his laughter even as she drained the power from the spell. The prince stood beside her, shook himself like a dog, then flicked his head back and he was as dry as she was.

"I am a very clever witch."

The prince looked toward Mawdoor and the mortal woman and nodded. "You have become more clever since I am with you. But Mawdoor isn't mortal, Brecia. We haven't much time, you know that. We must hurry." He lightly touched his fingers to her jaw. "Do you have it?"

"Aye, I have it," she said. Brecia smiled as she brought the golden cask from beneath her gown. She held it in her hands. It wasn't so cold now since Mawdoor was as still and silent as the score of old people huddled together near the pigsty.

"Look at him," the prince said even as he readied himself. He slowly pulled out his wand, gently caressed it with his fingers. "Soon now. It can't hold him much longer. Do you know, Brecia, I was right. He was unfaithful to you, and with a mortal woman who wanted to kick you in the head. Aye, he would have forced you to wed him and taken her as his concubine. That is disgraceful."

She wanted to laugh, but she was too afraid. "He has the key."

"I know. We must find it quickly."

She brought up her wand, held it outstretched, pointing toward Mawdoor.

But there was no time. It happened quickly. The earth began to shake. Maida screamed. The old people tripped over themselves to escape.

Then there was silence. There wasn't a single breath of life for one very long moment.

Mawdoor was standing now, his wand in his right hand, and in his left hand he held a golden sword. "I will kill you with this, prince. I searched far and wide for a sword that would pierce a wizard's heart and freeze it in his chest."

32.

"WELL, NOW, MAWDOOR," the prince said, legs apart, hands on his hips, "this is all very interesting. You fashioned a special golden sword, just for me?"

"I have always hated your wit, prince. But soon you will speak no more. After I have mated with Brecia, I will burn that oak forest of hers, pile rocks until the trees flatten and the earth beneath them gives way, and let her grieve for all the ghosts who will be no more. Brecia, you brought up the cask, that was devious of you. Once the prince is dead, I will teach you a lesson even a witch won't forget."

Brecia spoke softly, blowing the words at Mawdoor, as she spoke. "Your feet burn, Mawdoor, burn, burn, burn."

He jumped three feet into the air, and his golden sword fell from his hand.

The prince was on him in a minute, moving so quickly he was nearly a blur. Mawdoor's sword was in his hand the next instant, and he yelled as he aimed the brilliant golden point at the prince's chest.

The prince didn't have a sword, but he had a knife. It was in his hand, come up to Mawdoor's throat, when the skies turned utterly black. There were voices, loud voices, all around them, screaming, and the voices were converging on Mawdoor and the prince.

"Kill him!"

The screaming voices suddenly took shape. Hundreds, no, thousands of crows swooped down upon the prince, covering him, their great black wings flapping wildly all around him.

Mawdoor stood back, the tip of his golden sword buried in the ground at his feet, and he was laughing.

Suddenly a dozen of the black crows went flying through the air, landing hard on the ground, dead. More fell away, all dead. The prince was standing there, slapping his hands in a circle around him, a protective circle that shielded him and killed anything that touched it.

Mawdoor roared and came at him again, the golden sword raised.

Brecia saw that the prince was covered with blood from the birds stabbing him with their beaks before he'd gotten the shield into place. She yelled in fury and aimed her wand at Mawdoor. "Bend the golden sword around his neck!"

But the sword kept coming toward the prince.

And now winged creatures swooped down. They were demonsa"a score of black demons flying straight at hima"and at their center was a great red demon, the most powerful, the most dangerous of all demons. They were Mawdoor's kin. He'd alerted them, brought them here.

Brecia shouted as she waved her wand, "Demon blood scorch the earth!"

The red demon drew back and looked at her, and Brecia thought she would die of fear at the malevolence in those red eyes. Nothing happened. She felt as helpless as a mortal, an awful feeling.

The prince knew he had little time. Demons were the worst, nearly invincible, and there were so many of them. Mawdoor had done things correctly this time.