“Alfrigg, dearest friend and Chancellor of the Dark Lands,” she greeted him, smiling her beautiful, wicked smile. “Where are my brothers? I have need of them.”

The old dwarf drew himself up, ignoring the pain in his back and shoulders. The heavy black and gold brocade robe he wore chafed at his bare legs above his old leather boots. His seal of office with its weighty chain felt heavy upon his chest. He glared at the Darkling as if she had interrupted something momentous. “Is it so important that I must disturb the Twilight Lords?” he asked her haughtily.

Ciarda shuddered. “How can you bear the plural on your tongue, my Chancellor?”

“I bear it because it is the reality,” he replied irritably.

“If there were but one,” she murmured. “Kolbein, perhaps?”

“If there were but one I would hope for Kolgrim,” he told her bluntly. “Your lover is too hot-tempered and ignorant, Darkling. Think not that I do not know what you are about, for I do. Remember, it is forbidden by the Book of Rule that any citizen of this kingdom raise their hand in violence against a member of the royal family. Do you suggest disposing of one of your half brothers, Ciarda? And to what purpose? So you might rule through the other? Foolish female! Put such nonsense from your head.”

“I can succeed where my father failed,” Ciarda said heatedly.

Alfrigg laughed scornfully. “Lord Kol was the greatest of the Twilight Lords, and you are a mere Darkling girl. Do not dare to be so presumptuous in your boasting.”

“You will see what I can do, old one. It is why I allow you to live, so that one day you will kneel at my feet to praise my accomplishments and beg my forgiveness,” Ciarda said half-angrily. “If the tone of your apology is sincere I may permit you to live an even longer life than you already have. If it is not I will kill you myself. Now send for my half brothers, and have them meet me in the throne room.” Whirling about, she stalked from his privy chamber.

If only she had been a male, the old chancellor thought to himself. She had strength and determination, and though she was only female, she was intelligent, he was forced to admit. If he could convince her to mate with Kolgrim, who was equally strong and intelligent, they would produce a son unlike any born into the lineage of the Twilight Lords. There had been matings between half siblings in the family before. But if Kolbein gave her a son it could be disastrous. The chancellor called a servant to him, and said, “Go and find both of the Twilight Lords. Tell them I request they join their half sister in the throne room where she awaits them.”

The servant bowed and hurried off. Chancellor Alfrigg pressed a panel in the wall of his privy chamber. Stepping into the narrow corridor he made his way to the throne room, where he exited directly behind the throne. Ciarda was only now entering the chamber. He watched her as she paced back and forth waiting for her siblings. When they entered, Kolbein attempting to push ahead of Kolgrim, and failing, she went forward to greet them.

“Brothers!” She smiled at them.

“What do you need him for?” Kolbein demanded, glaring at Kolgrim.

“Half sister, you are as lovely as ever,” Kolgrim greet Ciarda. “Forgive my brother’s wretched manners. He had the misfortune to be raised by Wolfyn.”

“You think your traitorous giants better?” Kolbein demanded. “Given the opportunity they bolted for Terah.”

“But not until after they had done their duty by our father,” Kolgrim said.

“Brothers,” the Darkling said, “I need your help.”

“I can do whatever you want done,” Kolbein insisted. “Send him away!”

“How may we be of service to you, half sister?” Kolgrim asked.

“I need a place to hide the faerie woman’s daughter. This castle is perfect, for it is unlikely she will consider the girl is here,” Ciarda said.

“I thought that Lara’s daughter was put into a deep sleep, and surrounded by a protection spell fashioned by the Twilight Lord. There is no way we could overcome that,” Kolgrim said sensibly.

“The protection spell is no longer there,” Ciarda said excitedly.

“How would you know that?” Kolgrim asked. He was fascinated by her.

“I have gone each night to stand by the girl’s bedside. To see what I could do to unravel Prince Kaliq’s spell. But I could not decipher it. I do not like to admit defeat and so I kept returning to that little chamber where the girl lay sleeping. And then today I went, and the spell was gone! It had vanished. I reached out to touch the girl, and my hand met with the fabric of her garment.”

“If the spell is gone then why do you need us?” Kolgrim asked Ciarda.

“I would take this girl, and hide her here. She is the leverage I need against the Hierarch. If he knows I have her he will obey me again without question. But I need the power of our blood, and the power of three to make a spell strong enough to transport this girl from her chamber in that Fiacre village.”

“We are only learning the magic that is ours,” Kolbein said. “We can’t help you.”

“Aye, you can,” Ciarda insisted. “I will weave the spell, brothers. The power lying dormant in you will, when we join hands, make the spell work.”

“You are certain of that?” Kolgrim asked her.

“I am,” Ciarda assured him.

“Your lover will not be pleased,” Kolgrim said softly. “And he may not believe you, half sister.”

“I will bring him here to prove to him that I hold his beloved my captive,” the Darkling replied.

“Our captive, half sister,” Kolgrim said, and he smiled a toothy smile at her.

Ciarda nodded in agreement.

“When shall we do this thing?” Kolgrim asked her.

“Now! I do not know why that protection spell is gone, but if anyone else learns of it, rest assured the girl will be protected again, and quickly,” the Darkling replied. “Where will you put her?”

Kolgrim laughed. “I think the chamber in which her mother resided once will serve.”

“Which chamber is that?” Kolbein wanted to know.

“Why, the one in which we were conceived and born,” Kolgrim said, and the trio laughed together. It was a sound that sent a chill down the chancellor’s spine as he watched and listened from his hiding place behind the throne of the Twilight Lord.

IN THE KINGDOM OF THE Forest Faeries Ilona was at a loss, for her granddaughter had been hiding from her. “What is the matter with the girl?” the queen asked her consort.

“She is either being naughty and willful, a most faerielike trait,” Thanos said wisely, “or she has done something she doesn’t want us to know about.”

“It is more than likely the latter,” Ilona replied. “I cannot handle her, my lord. She is very intelligent, and very impatient to learn all there is to know about our kingdom, our ways, our magic. Whatever I teach her, or try to teach her, is never enough for Marzina. She wants more, and she wants it now. But my instincts tell me that we must find her sooner than later, and learn what it is she has done.”

“Call our son, Cirillo, for she adores him. He will be able to lure her out of hiding if anyone can,” Thanos advised his wife.

Cirillo was called from Belmair, where he now spent much of his time with his dragon lover, Nidhug. Knowing his parents were now resigned to his choice of a mate, he assumed it was some emergency that forced them to ask him to return to the Forest Kingdom. Ilona explained the difficulty of the missing Marzina, and Cirillo agreed to find his talented niece and learn what was troubling her.

Encasing himself in an invisibility spell, he began to search the forest. It took him several days, but then, deep within the woodlands by a small, still pool, he found Marzina. She was weeping bitterly. Uncloaking himself, he knelt and gathered the distraught girl into his arms. “Little one, little one, what is it that troubles you so greatly? Your grandparents are very worried over your absence.”

Marzina looked up at him. Her eyes were red with much weeping. “Oh, Uncle! I have done a terrible thing. I will never be forgiven! Never!”

Cirillo struggled not to laugh. She was fourteen. She lived with her grandparents. What could she have done that was so awful? “Tell me,” he said, not knowing what to expect, but assuming whatever trifle she confessed to could be quickly corrected.

“I have undone someone else’s spell!” Marzina cried.

Cirillo was surprised. This was perhaps a bit more serious than he had anticipated. His faerie green eyes were curious. “Whose spell did you undo, Niece?”

“Prince Kaliq’s!” Marzina wailed, and burst into fresh tears.

Cirillo was astounded. “You undid a spell that Kaliq fashioned, Marzina? Are you quite certain? You put it back, of course.”

“I couldn’t!” Marzina howled louder. “I tried and I tried, but I just couldn’t reweave his spell, Uncle! And now Anoush is gone, and it is all my fault!”

“What do you mean Anoush is gone?” Cirillo had been on Belmair for months and did not know the situation unfolding in Hetar.

Marzina explained the situation to him between sobs and gulps, concluding, “It was a protection spell, Uncle. By removing it I left my sister vulnerable to the forces of Darkness, and now she is gone. Mother will never forgive me. I can’t forgive me!”

“We must return to the castle at once,” Cirillo said. He took the girl by the hand, and she tried to pull away. “Marzina!” His tone was sharp. “Aye, you have done a dreadful thing, Niece, but it cannot be corrected if we do not call your mother and Prince Kaliq to us at once. Perhaps it is not as bad as you think. They may have found the spell gone, and removed Anoush to a safer place. Come! Quickly! Unfold your wings, and let us hurry, for I suspect time is of the essence in this matter.”