“I must think on it,” Magnus said.

“Would you have me for your wife, Magnus?” Lara asked him.

“Aye,” he responded.

“Then know this. There is a price to pay if you would make me your Domina. The first I have just told you. Help me to fulfill my destiny, and save the clan families of the Outlands,” Lara said. “Help me to prevent a ruinous and foolish war.”

“And the second?” he queried.

“I will give you the sons and daughters you desire, my lord Dominus, but you must wait for those children until I am certain Hetar can keep the peace,” Lara said.

“I must think on it,” he repeated softly. “I can refuse you, and keep you as my lover if I choose.”

“Then I should be forced to disappear from Terah,” she warned him. “I will not wait long for my answer, Magnus. Kaliq has said he and his brothers cannot protect the Outlands much longer. The effort will weaken them if they are forced to continue.”

He caught her by the arm, his fingers digging into her tender flesh. “Faerie witch, do not toy with me,” he growled. “Will you be my wife?”

“Will you pay my price?” she boldly demanded to know.

“If I said aye, what would you say?” he insisted.

“If you say aye, then I say aye,” Lara told him, her green eyes meeting his turquoise ones. “Do you say aye, Magnus?”

“Do you?” He pulled her into his arms, his lips dangerously close to hers.

Lara laughed, but she remained silent.

“Aye, my faerie witch,” he murmured against her lips.

“Aye,” she agreed just before his mouth took hers in a fierce kiss that left her drained, and barely able to stand upon her own two legs.

“If you two are finished negotiating,” Dasras drawled at them, “I believe we had best be on our way again, Mistress, my lord Dominus. I must assume as you have not said otherwise that you wish to reach the temple compound by midafternoon as planned.”

Laughing at his reprimand they mounted the big stallion again, and he galloped across the meadow, his graceful wings flapping as they arose into the sky once more. Lara leaned back again Magnus. It felt to her as if a large weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Behind her the Dominus dropped a kiss upon her golden head, a happiness such as he had never known surging through him.

By midafternoon they saw the delicate Temple of the Daughters of the Great Creator ahead of them. Dasras dropped down from the sky, his wings disappearing. It was better, the intelligent beast realized, to arrive at the temple afoot. Although Lara said nothing, she reached out and patted the animal’s neck in a gesture of approval. Dasras cantered easily down the road leading to the temple, slowing his stride as they drew near to its gates.

A bell began to ring announcing the arrival of the visitors, and the gates were opened to welcome them into the temple’s courtyard. Dasras came to a halt, and the Dominus slid off of him, turning to lift Lara down. One of the women recognizing the Dominus ran quickly into one of the temple’s buildings. A moment later a tall older woman emerged.

“My lord Dominus,” she greeted him, holding out her hands to him. “Your outrider brought me the news of the great blessing the faerie woman has brought us. How happy I am that at long last you can hear my welcome with your own ears.” She smiled at him.

“Kemina,” he said, taking her hands to press them to his head, his lips and his heart. “Do you never grow old, High Priestess?”

Kemina laughed. She was a woman with strong striking features, and eyes as blue as the Sea of Sagitta. Her hair was snow-white, but her face was youthful. She did not demur at his compliment, but rather asked, “What brings you here, and who is your companion? A faerie woman, my lord Dominus?”

“I am Lara of Hetar, half mortal, half faerie,” Lara introduced herself. “My mother is Ilona, queen of the Forest Faeries, my lady Kemina.”

“I plan to wed her shortly,” Magnus told the High Priestess.

“It is time you were married,” Kemina scolded him gently. “Past time. But then it was obviously not meant to be until this fair creature came into your world. But come! Let us not stand in the courtyard gossiping like old women.” With a warm smile she led them into the building from which she had exited. “This is my house,” she told Lara as they entered a spacious room with a fountain in its center. “Sit,” she invited them clapping her hands, and instructing the attending priestess to bring refreshments. Then she joined them in a comfortable chair constructed of leather and wood. “You do not visit often, my lord Dominus, and so I must conclude there is a purpose to this visit,” Kemina said candidly. “Is it too soon for me to ask if you will share it?”

Magnus Hauk chuckled. “Direct as ever,” he said. “Aye, there is a reason. It seems in our pride we men of Terah believed our women had been cursed into silence when in truth our ears had been stopped up.”

“There has been a great deal of rumor flying about the countryside,” Kemina said.

“Lara banished the ghost of Usi who still inhabited his tower. The cursed place was destroyed as was his book of spells so that none could ever use them again,” Magnus explained. “I decided to go to the Temple of the Great Creator last, and I want you to come with us. My uncle, the High Priest, knew what Lara was attempting, but you know that many of the priests still hold to Aslak’s belief that all magic is evil. Lara must remove the curse from them, and you must be there to convince them that they can once more hear the voices of females.”

Kemina laughed heartily. “I will gladly go with you,” she said. “I cannot wait to see the look upon the faces of some of those sour old men when they have been freed of the curse Usi placed on Terah all those centuries back. Let us enjoy some wine first, and then we must go at once. I cannot wait until the morrow, and the sun will not set for several hours yet. It is but a short distance to the Temple of the Great Creator.” She picked up a goblet of wine that had been placed by her hand. “I cannot say I was sorry to learn of Aslak’s death. It was time. I never knew a mind so narrow or so closed.”

“It was the sound of my voice, I fear, that caused his death,” Lara said softly.

Kemina looked astounded, and then she chuckled. “Let us hope a few more of those old dogs keel over at the sound of it,” she said, and then drank down her wine.

“As your Dominus I must reprimand you, High Priestess,” Magnus said with a wicked grin. “I am shocked by your lack of sympathy.”

“Do not tell me you were sorry to see Aslak go,” she cackled. “Praise the Great Creator that your uncle had already been elected to follow him. Arik is a man of vision. He will shake them all up, and move the priesthood into a more modern age.”

“We can but hope,” Magnus said.

When they had finished their refreshment they departed for the larger Temple of the Great Creator, Dasras again carrying two passengers. The High Priestess rode upon a small roan mare that the stallion eyed with interest. Arriving, they were greeted by a young priest and shown into the High Priest’s privy chamber.

“Nephew, welcome back!” Arik greeted them. “Kemina, I greet you. Lara, I greet you,” he said.

Lara smiled at Magnus’s uncle and recited, “Ears that once heeded woman’s call, shall open again and hear them all.”

“I greet you, Arik,” the High Priestess said quietly.

“I can hear her!” Arik almost shouted. He looked to Lara. “You have done the impossible, my lovely faerie woman. Thank you! Thank you!”

“Gather your priests together, my lord Arik, and I will unstop their ears, as well,” Lara said to him.

The High Priest called to one of his minions and gave him quick instructions. The young priest hurried out, and shortly the sound of the temple bells ringing was heard. “I’ve summoned them all to the temple itself. It seems a fitting setting in which to lift the curse of Usi,” Arik said. “Come along!”

They followed the excited high priest from his dwelling and into the temple. It was a large building with an open portico on all four sides. Inside, however, it was simple, and plain in decor. The roof of the temple had a great dome through which sunlight poured. The High Priest led his visitors up two wide stairs to stand before the modest marble altar. Below and around them the temple was filled with priests.

“Are all gathered here now?” Arik asked, looking about.

There was a short silence, then a voice said, “All but the sick in the infirmary, my lord Arik.”

Arik turned to Lara. “Will you visit them, and free them?” he asked.

She nodded. “I will.”

The High Priest turned back to the crowd, and began to speak. “Priests of the Great Creator, a miracle is about to be visited upon you.” He drew Lara forward. “This is Lara of Hetar, daughter of a mortal man and a faerie queen.”

A murmur began below them.

The High Priest held up his hand. “She has discovered that it was not the women of Terah who were cursed into silence by the sorcerer. It was the men of Hetar whose ears were stopped up because they listened to a woman, and let her destroy Usi.”

“She lies!” a voice from the crowd said.

“Nay, she does not lie, and she has come today to lift the curse from you as she has lifted it from all the men of Terah. I could hear her from the first moment we met, for she is Hetarian. Tell them, Lara.”

“I can free you, good priests of the Great Creator,” Lara told them.

Surprise showed on the faces below them.

“This is magic!” came the cry.

“Magic is evil. Did not Aslak teach us that?” another voice spoke.

“There is both good and wicked magic,” Arik told them. “This lady is good, and her magic is good. She will speak her spell, and lift the curse from you.”