"But not the same mother?"

"Her mother is the domestic queen, as I am sure you must know by now."

He unfolded his arms and scratched his cheek, the rasping sound loud in the quiet room. "We know little about her, but there has been no offer from your people to pay a ransom."

She stiffened. "How much are you demanding?"

He shook his head. "Not one copper senti. The king, himself, owns your sister. She has been taken to the seraglio at Abbadon and will live out the remainder of her life as his concubine, unless he grows tired of her and sells her."

She stared at him, her fingernails digging into her palms. "That situation will be remedied. I will find a way to release her."

He smiled, his white teeth flashing as he again crossed his arms over his chest. "I think not, wench. I've granted you this night to think over your situation, but with the first light of dawn, all bets are off. If you continue your insane mission to liberate your sister, your own freedom will be at stake."

Aradia lifted her chin. "What does that mean?"

Jaelan shrugged. "It means unless you head back the way you came, I will have your friends arrested and taken to the convent."

An arrow of unease passed through Aradia's chest. She gripped the wool of her robe to keep her hands from shaking. Though she feared no man, this one created disquiet in her soul. Looking at him, taking in the male beauty of his face, she had a hard time believing he would be so cruel as to turn them over to their enemies.

"You've been warned," he said, planting his feet on the floor. "If I see them anywhere near Abbadon, I will have no choice but to turn them in."

He stood, put his hands on the small of his back, and stretched. The very bulk of this powerfully built warrior intimidated Aradia. Despite her many years of training, she doubted she could take him in a fair fight.

"You wouldn't want to try," he said, coming to stand beside her.

He laid to rest her concerns about his ability to read her mind. Drawing in a quick breath, she peered into the fire, unable to look at him. When he bent over, putting his lips to her ear, she steeled herself not to flinch, to turn away. "It was hot that day at Amberino, was it not, little Amazeen?" he whispered, his breath fanning the wisps of hair at her temple. "There was a storm brewing. Do you remember? That storm turned vicious by late afternoon." She turned and looked into his eyes, their golden depths deep with amusement. "W...What?" He laid the tips of his callused fingers on her cheek, stroking her flesh as gently as the brush of a butterfly's wings.

His eyes held her captive. "As soft as I knew it would be." His gaze moved down to her neckline. He hooked a finger beneath the necklace and lifted it. A fleeting smile crossed his rugged face as he fingered the bead in the middle. "I am pleased you kept this."

Aradia's heart pounded, while her mouth formed a stunned "O." With a voice that sounded strange to her own ears, she asked, "That was you?" He nodded, then withdrew his hand, straightening to his full height. "Go home. I would not like to see anything happen to you. I owe you that much." Her mouth suddenly dry, her breathing erratic, she watched him leave, flinching as she took in the thick crisscrossed scars networking his bare back. Legs weak, knees trembling, she stood, covering her mouth with her hands and feeling the cold sweat dampening her palms. She spun around and headed to her room. After scratching at the door to warn Okyale, she pushed open the portal, then leaned against it as it shut.

"Up!" she said, the insistence in her voice making Oky blink. "Everyone up!" Phillipa twisted over on her pallet and squinted. "What's wrong?" "Get up, I said! Now!" The others stirred, yawning and wiping their eyes. Phillipa got to her feet and came toward Aradia. "Has something happened?" "He knows why we're here. You have to leave. If you don't, he'll turn you in to the Temple Guards." Phillipa's lips thinned. "You've been talking to him? Did I not warn you to leave him alone?" "Didn't you hear what I said? He knows why we're here. You'll not get within a duquain of Orithia now. You must leave before first light. He's given you until then."

"Why do I get the feeling you're not including yourself in this flight?" Phillipa asked.

Aradia clenched her hands into fists at her sides, hoping to keep the others from seeing the tremor that threatened to

drive her to her knees. "Because I swore to free Orithia, and free her I will." "Without our help?" Phillipa asked, aghast. "Impossible!" "If you do not head back to Amazeen, he'll have the guards after you. If you so much as go near Abbadon, you'll wind up in some convent." She held Phillipa's stare. "Is that what you want?" "Hell, no! Never again. Never,never again!" "Then go. Let me handle this. Better one of us interned in hell than all of us." "You shouldn't have asked him to help," Euryleia complained. "If he hadn't known what you were planning--" "I didn't tell him. He knew me the moment he laid eyes on me." "How?" Phillipa asked. "You've never been to Rysalia." Loathe to explain how the Shadowlord had known her, Aradia threw out a dismissive hand. "Does it matter?" "It does, if you expect us to do as you ask," Phillipa replied. "He reads minds. He knows our very thoughts. That's how he knew what we were about." A muscle worked in Phillipa's scarred jaw. "There is more to it. Isn't there?"

Tears filled Aradia's eyes. "Please, Phillipa. Let it go."

When Aradia had first returned from her captivity in Diabolusia, she shared quarters with the older woman. That first month, both Aradia's terrified shrieks and the quiet sobs of a breaking heart had awakened her friend many times. Aradia suspected that Phillipa understood the tears, recognized the signs of a woman deep in the throes of love, but the nightmares had puzzled the older woman.

"Did you meet this man in Deseo?" Phillipa asked.

"No, of course not!"

"But you had met him before tonight."

"We were never introduced, but I had seen him before."

"Where?"

Aradia sighed heavily. "It's of no importance. He's not an enemy so--"

Phillipa took Aradia's arm and pulled her down to one of the pallets. "We are not leaving until you tell us what the hell is going on. I want the truth!"

Trying to break free of Phillipa's steely clasp proved useless. The older woman obviously had no intention of letting go until her demand was met.

"All right!" Aradia snarled, jerking on that iron-hard hold, then grunting in exasperation when Phillipa did not release her.

"It's only an hour before sunup," Okyale informed them. "If we are to leave at first light, you'd better start explaining now."

Gathering her strength, Aradia yanked her arm from Phillipa's grip.

A long moment of silence settled like a heavy blanket over a room that had grown cold from the dying of the fire. Aradia pulled her robe closer around her and shivered more from memories than the temperature. When she began her tale, her voice was monotonic, but soon the others heard emotion creeping into the words and sat spellbound...

"I do not speak of him, the man I grew to love so dearly, because the pain is as fresh today as it was the night I was forced to leave him. On my tongue, his name is both a blessing and a curse. There is not one hour of any day that thoughts of him do not invade. There is not one moment of any night as I lay in my lonely bed that I do not wish myself at his side. My dreams are filled with his face, my daydreams filled with yearnings I know will never be satisfied.

"We were in love, so much in love that neither of us wanted to be apart from the other. We ate together, bathed together, slept beside one another, his arms around me, my head on his strong shoulder. We took long walks in the hills outside Deseo and rode for miles and miles along the seacoast, camping on the beach to watch the sun come up over the Placidia. There was nothing he would not do for me, nothing I would not do for him. Had the occasion arose, I would have given my life for his. That is how much I loved him then and love him still. Neither of us knew what the fates had in store for us, so we blindly plotted the future, planning a life together, happily oblivious to the evil lying in wait.

"Had I known what would happen that day, I would have insisted we stay at the palace. But it was my birthday and he wanted to take me to Amberino, to the mountains where amber was being mined, for me to choose the gems he would have made into a necklace for me."

Aradia paused and pulled the necklace of amber and onyx beads from inside her robe. She lovingly caressed the honey-gold center bead, larger than the others. In the dim glow of the dying fire, those gathered saw the shadow within the stone and leaned closer for a better look, but Aradia disappointed them by curling her hand around the stone, hiding the inclusion in its center.

"It was unbearably hot that day. As we rode, my shirt was plastered to my chest. Using the ostrich fan he had insisted I bring along did nothing to shift the heat pressing against my face. To the west, storm clouds built rapidly, and he ordered one of his men to ride ahead and make sure there would be shelter, for he knew well the sudden fury the weather can unleash in his country.

"The horses panted with the exertion of climbing. It was a remote area, wild, though beautiful, in its savagery. We saw the tracks of pumas and the wiggles of serpents etched in the sand. Cautiously, the guides in front and the guards in back watched for anything that could harm us, so I was not afraid as we ventured higher up Mount Calumbre.

"By the time we reached the mining camp, the day had become miserable with heat. A stench made my eyes water, so he handed me his handkerchief and apologized. 'Perhaps,' he said, 'it was not a good idea to bring you here after all.'

"I was in total agreement. When I looked around, I couldn't help but feel the despair of the place. Heat ghosts wavered around the sharp rocks and sand devils skipped across the open area before the mine entrance. Guards stood about with rawhide whips curled around their shoulders, and others wore swords and daggers. I heard the snap of a whip hitting what can only be flesh, and I turned to him, my lips trembling.

"'Punishment,' he said, 'must be handed out when there are infractions. A worker might have tried to steal a portion of his find, or else he has talked back to one of his subordinates.'

"But I saw the pain in his eyes and knew he didn't like the way things were done in his country any more than I did. We had often talked of the changes he would make once he ascended the throne. He felt strongly about the use of forced labor, and when he became king, he planned to end it.

"As I looked at him, I saw his eyes shift past mine, then widen, his face draining of color. I turned to see what had caused his reaction, and it was all I could do to curb the roar of outrage that rushed up my throat.

"The sight of the thin workers bent beneath the weight of pickaxes and shovels as they trudged wearily from the mine's entrance appalled me. They wore little more than filthy rags, breeches held up with belts made of frayed rope. Most were barefoot, leaving bloody prints in the sand, as they plodded along, heads bent with what must have been complete exhaustion. Their flesh was gray, shrunken on their stooped forms, and the foul odor that had permeated the place grew three times as bad.

"The mine superintendent saw us as he exited. For one moment, anger passed over his face before he carefully put a smile on those evil features. He hurried toward us, a heavy cat-o'-nine wrapped around his beefy arm, the shoulder of his shirt smeared with bloodstains. He bowed and scraped, welcoming the heir to the throne to his humble mine.

"My lover asked to know why the workers looked so emaciated. He looked around, his teeth grinding, and searched for food wagons. 'Where,' he demanded, 'are the water bearers?' His hands tightened on the saddle pummel, and his horse bumped mine, for even the animal sensed his master's anger.

"'The water bearers also work the mines,' we were told, 'and as soon as they come out, the water will be provided.'

"'Why do water bearers mine the amber?' my beloved asked.

"'The threat of flooding is ever imminent,' the superintendent replied, 'and the rains have come often of late. Every hand has been needed to pump the water from the shafts so the workers do not die in a flash flood.'

"My love was so incensed at the pitiful condition of the workers, he ordered the superintendent to have the guards draw the water. When the man tried to argue, insisting the guards must be always at the ready, my wonderful one ordered his own guards down from their mounts to dispense the water.

"I saw the superintendent's fury, but he would not gainsay the prince. He stepped aside, bowing ungraciously as our guards scrambled to do their overlord's bidding. The superintendent's upper lip raised, while his beady eyes glowed with an evil from which I found it hard to look away. As his attention shifted back to me, I saw such lechery, such vile contempt in his pig-like eyes, I recoiled, reaching out to take my lover's hand. Our fingers entwined, and the superintendent smirked. He knew I was nothing more than the prince's Amazeen bedmate.

"In the distance, the sky grew darker, and lightning crawled across it like silver serpents. The air turned a bit cooler, but remained stifling. My mouth was as arid as the sand beneath our horses' hooves, but I didn't dare ask for water until the miserable wretches greedily drank the brackish liquid provided them. I looked away as water sloshed overdusty throats, torn shirts, and ragged breeches, and knew this was the first quenching of their thirsts they'd had for some time.

"My love tightened his grip on my hand and lowered his voice so only I could hear. He promised--on his honor--that conditions would change. He meant to have the superintendent replaced with a compassionate man, one who would see to the workers' needs and would not overwork or abuse them as these poor wretches had been.

"At that moment, a commotion began at the mine entrance. Two guards dragged a man from the mine by his chained hands. They jerked on his bonds and sent him sprawling, face down, in the rock-strewn sand. A mass of fresh welts, bleeding profusely, covered his bare back, and blood splattered his tattered beeches. He was as filthy as his fellow workers, his hair long and straggly, his face hidden behind a matted beard. He struggled to push himself up, but a guard viciously lashed him across his shoulders, cutting a long, savage stripe. I heard his groan of pain that still tears at my heart.

"'Do something!' I pleaded with my love.

"'Stop!' my beloved cried, vaulting from his saddle. He strode angrily forward, his hands clenched at his sides. 'What has this man done that you should lash him in this manner?' he demanded.

"The superintendent spoke to him in low tones I could not hear. I watched as the expression on my beloved's face turned from righteous anger to uncertainty. He turned from the defenseless man on the ground--once more striving to get to his feet--and mounted his horse. My love couldn't look me in the eye when he said there was nothing he could do. The worker had refused to obey an order to go into one of the flooded shafts and was to be executed for his refusal.

"I looked back at the worker, who stood but wove from the brutal agony that must have wracked his lean body. Our eyes met. The tawny color looking back at me through black-rimmed sockets--from hunger and weariness and defeat--mesmerized me. In that brief moment, our souls became linked. I felt his hopelessness, experienced the humiliation he had endured. I shifted uneasily in my saddle, feeling the drag of the whip down my own back.

"I couldn't let them take this man's life. Even as I looked at him, a guard threw a rope over a tree branch, the noose waiting to encircle the poor man's dirty neck.

"'This is my birthday,' I reminded my beloved, forcing him to look at me. I saw confusion wrinkling his brow and almost heard his thought--What has that to do with this?'You promised I could have whatever I wanted,' I said.

"His eyes widened. 'Do not ask this of me, Aradia,' he whispered.

"'You promised!' I said, standing my ground. 'How often do I ask anything of you?'

"He tore his gaze from me to stare across the clearing, his attention riveted to the stumbling man. That attention shifted to the hangman's noose, then skipped away. 'What is it you want?' he asked.

"'Give me his life,' I answered.

"He flinched. 'Aradia,' he began, his voice low, insistent.

"But I cut him off. 'Give me his life to do with as I please,' I said, 'and I will never ask you for anything else as long as I draw breath.'

"He sighed deeply, closing his eyes.

"The superintendent hurried over. 'This man is a rabble-rouser,' the evil one stressed. 'Let him live and it will be a mistake. We must make an example of him, Your Grace.'

"My beloved slowly opened his eyes and looked into the battered face of the condemned man, standing with the noose snug against his throat. They stared at one another for a long moment, and it amazed me how the worker didn't lower his gaze to such an important personage as a prince.

"'He has courage, beloved,' I whispered. 'Can you not see that?'

"His shoulders sagged. 'I can deny you nothing,' he says softly, then ordered the man set free.

"The superintendent grew livid, his beefy face crimson with anger. Eyes bulging, rubbery lips quivering with outrage, he tried to reason with my love, but the prince had made his decision.

"'What will you have them do, Aradia?' my beloved asked, ignoring the superintendent's hiss.

"'Set him free,' I said. 'See to his wounds, then give him food and water and allow him to return to his home.'

"My beloved nodded. He turned to his Chief Guard and ordered him to see that my instructions were carried out.

"Above us, the sky turned black with the approaching storm. The wind picked up and the air cooled to a comfortable temperature.

"'We must hurry, Your Grace,' one of the guides said. 'Shelter is another mile up the mountain road. If we are to reach it before the rain, we must leave now.'

"My love agreed, and he kicked his mount. As we started moving, I heard a raspy voice call out. I turned to see the freed man loping toward me. His movements were pitiful to watch as he shambled forward. My beloved's guards blocked his path, but I reined in my horse, turned, and met him halfway. Up close, my heart broke when viewing his thin cheeks, the hollows shadowed within the ragged confines of his filthy beard, the blood oozing from beneath the iron bands encircling his scrawny wrists. The cuffs of his torn breeches rode high on his shins, and his ankles were scraped raw, banded with scar tissue from the iron shackles that clanked when he walked.

"'Milady,' the abused man said, his voice cracked from disuse, his lips parched and bleeding. He lifted his bound wrists and opened a hand. In the dirt-streaked palm sat a lump of amber. Before I could take it from him, my beloved reined in beside me and plucked the gem from the hand.

"'Milady thanks you,' my love said, then waved a signal at his guards to draw back the worker.

"I knew better than to say anything, for I'd heard the warning in my beloved's tone. I saw its recognition in the worker's pain-glazed eyes as guards led him away. I did not look back, however, since no worry remained in my mind that the wretched man would be kept safe. The Prince of the Southern Winds had given his word, and that was law to those who heard it. Silently, as a Daughter of the Wind, I prayed for the reprieved man's safety, asking that the Wind be always at his back.

"It was not until we were safe inside the mountain shelter, the rain lashing at the windows, that my love handed the gemstone into my keeping.

"'A rare and precious piece of amber,' he told me. 'Had they found it secreted on his person, he would have been drawn and quartered.'

"I looked at the stone and drew in a breath, for there, embedded in the center of the golden resin, was a perfectly preserved firefly. A web of dust swirls fanned out from it. A lovely specimen I will treasure for as long as I live. To this day, I wear it close to my heart to remind me of all I have lost."

Euryleia dragged the arm of her robe across her eyes. "The Diabolusian prince must be a wonderful man, Ardy, to grant you such a boon."

Phillipa stared at the amber bead. Slowly, she lifted her gaze. "The worker was Lord Jaelan."

"Aye," Aradia replied.

"He owes his life to you," Okyale said with a long sigh.

"And because your Diabolusian showed a weakness by giving in to your request," Phillipa stated, "word of it reached his father."

Aradia hung her head. "That was the way of it."

"And because the king was apprised of his son's momentary lapse of good judgment, he had a way to rid himself of you."

"You call saving a man's life a momentary lapse of good judgment?" Aradia asked.

"In his father's eyes, it was," Phillipa replied. "Your kindheartedness brought you nothing but misery, and now it's allowed that man in there to be in a position to stop you from saving one of our own!"

"He has stopped me from doing nothing," Aradia said, teeth clenched. "I told you, I intend to uphold my vow to rescue Orithia."

"And he'll make good on his vow to stop you." Phillipa looked at the other women. "Gather your things and let us shake the evil of this place from our shoulders. If our sister wishes to truck with the demon, let her."