This Shadow-faerie lord has spoken,

And this spell shall ne’er be broken.”

Cinnia had watched, fascinated, as her husband incanted his spell. The little stars had glittered and glowed as Dillon’s words flowed over them. When the sound of his voice had died Cinnia could almost swear she heard the stars sigh. Carefully she gathered them up into soft velvet pouches. Tonight they would be distributed by magic to protect the Yafir as they were brought to Belbuoy.

Now Dillon called to Kaliq and to Cronan to join them. The two Shadow Princes stepped shortly from the shadows. Both he and Cinnia went forward to greet them. Servants came forth with sweet frine to welcome them. Dillon explained all that had happened in the last few weeks. “We are now ready to proceed tonight.”

“How will you keep the Yafir safe from the centuries?” Cronan wanted to know.

Cinnia brought forth one of the velvet bags, and drew out one of the tiny red-gold stars. “Each Yafir, but for those who have not yet reached their maturity, will have this star implanted into a shoulder. The spell rests within each star.”

Cronan took the star from her, examining it carefully. “So I see,” he said. “It is a good spell, my boy. A very powerful spell, and by making the stars part of each Yafir you keep them from losing their protection. Well done! Well done!” He handed Cinnia back the star, and as he did he smiled at her. “The crafting of the stars is quite excellent, sorceress of Belmair,” Cronan told her. Then he turned to Kaliq. “They are a well-matched couple, old friend.”

“You will not go away now, will you?” Cinnia asked the ancient Shadow Prince. “You will stay with us here in Belmair? Our world is honored to be home to one of your kind. What can we do to make you more comfortable, my lord?”

Cronan smiled again. “Do you know where I live?” he asked her mischievously.

Cinnia shook her head. “No, my lord, I do not, but wherever it may be we will do whatever we can to make it better,” she replied earnestly.

“I live at the top of the round tower on the north side of the castle,” he said.

“Our castle?” Cinnia was astounded.

“No one has bothered with the north tower for centuries,” he said with a chuckle. “I thought as it was unused I would take it for my own. Now and again one of your servants stumbles across it, but I gently wipe their memory of it, and send them on their way again. That is how I have lived there undetected for centuries. I have watched you grow up from the shadows of the rooms where you have lived, daughter of Fflergant. I knew at your birth that you were meant for greater things and so with your proper mate I have watched you becoming what you must eventually be. A sorceress almost equal to your husband, Dillon, son of Kaliq and Lara.”

“Teach me!” Cinnia said to him.

The old Shadow Prince smiled and nodded. “I will teach you,” he said. “Your first lesson will come tonight as you watch us bring the Yafir from beneath the sea to their new home. But before then I shall teach you how to implant the stars of Belmair within each Yafir. It is only right that you do this, for you are Belmair born.” He looked to Dillon and to Kaliq. Both nodded in agreement.

“When will we do it?” Cinnia asked.

“We shall bring the bubbles up from the sea floor one by one, and set them about Belbuoy. As long as the Yafir remain within the bubbles they will continue to be protected from time. We will enter each bubble, and you will go from cottage to cottage implanting the stars in each Yafir who needs one. Once that is done the Yafir are safe from the ravages of time, and we may move on to bring up the next bubble,” Cronan said.

“Why not bring all the bubbles up at one time?” Cinnia inquired.

“The bubbles cannot sustain themselves for too long within the sunlight and the air,” Cronan said. “That is why we must all work quickly.”

“I see,” Cinnia said. “Yes, it makes sense, doesn’t it? But can I get all the stars for each bubble implanted in time?”

“You can,” Kaliq told her. “That is why we only bring one bubble at a time up from the sea. It will take the three of us to maintain the bubble’s integrity while you work to implant the stars in the Yafir so that they are protected.”

“I have the spell!” Cinnia said excitedly. “This star of Belmair I thee give, so you upon the land may live. Time begin from whence it ceased. Time be knit no longer pieced.”

“Excellent, sorceress!” Cronan approved. “Now give me your hand.”

Cinnia put her small hand within that of the ancient Shadow Prince, and looked up into his startlingly bright blue eyes. Her own eyes widened as she experienced what felt like a heated bolt of energy flowing from his hand into hers.

“All you need do,” he told her, still holding her hand, “is place each star in the front of each Yafir’s left shoulder. They will feel a tiny surge of the energy I am giving to you. The star will adhere to their skin, and cannot be removed. Upon their death the star will dissolve into their flesh to be burned with their body,” Cronan explained. He released his hold upon Cinnia’s hand.

She swayed slightly. “Oh, my!” she exclaimed. “Your power is overwhelming, my lord Cronan.”

Dillon put an arm about his wife. “Are you all right?” he asked her.

“I will be in a moment. I am so filled with power, and I am not used to it,” Cinnia responded to his concern.

“Do not fear, young king,” the ancient Shadow Prince said. “Your wife is stronger than you can possibly imagine. Perhaps one day she will be your equal.”

“You are old, Cronan,” Kaliq chided his friend. “Do not promise what you may not be able to give.”

“Old I may be, but not powerless by any means, Kaliq. I think you are jealous for your son.” Cronan chuckled. “Or is it for yourself? You have grown used to being the most powerful among the powerful.”

“My lords, cease this bickering,” Dillon said. “If Cinnia were indeed as powerful as she might be think of all the good we could accomplish here in Belmair.”

“The young king is wise,” Cronan said.

“Shall we send for Cirillo and Nidhug to join us?” Cinnia asked them.

“Aye,” Dillon said. “We will need their help as well. Cirillo’s magic can also help to sustain each bubble as we work to integrate the Yafir. Nidhug will aid Cinnia.”

“Britto,” Cinnia called to her steward. “Send for Prince Cirillo and the dragon. They will join us for our evening meal. Tell cook to prepare for Nidhug’s appetite.”

“At once, my queen,” Britto said, and hurried off.

As the day finally came to an end, the faerie prince and his lover, the dragon, joined them in the family hall. There they learned all that had transpired this day.

“You have everything well in hand,” Cirillo said.

“But we need you and Nidhug, as well,” Cinnia told him.

“Nidhug will, of course, help me while I transfer the stars to each Yafir. You must help to sustain the bubble until all are protected.”

“Gladly,” Cirillo said. “And then I shall make each village appear to be newly constructed with painted shutters and doors, as well as dooryard gardens. The villages’ beauty should match the province’s beauty.”

“Oh, thank you!” Cinnia exclaimed. “I want the Yafir to feel welcomed.”

The meal was a trifle late in coming, for learning that the dragon would be joining them, the cook had had to roast a lamb over the hearth spit, and stuck a dozen more capons into the oven. She took a pan of artichokes from her pantry, brushed them with oil and set them to baking. Then, knowing Nidhug’s sweet tooth, she sent to Sarabeth at the dragon’s castle for the desserts. Finally the meal was served up, and well appreciated by the guests. The dragon ate daintily, Cirillo popping whole capons into her wide mouth and wiping the juices from her jaw.

Kaliq watched, fascinated by the pair. He was a man for whom love was all, and he could not help but wonder what the attraction between a faerie and a dragon was like. Finally the meal was concluded. Servants brought basins of scented water, and small linen towels so the diners might wash their hands and faces free of any traces of the meal.

The clock on the hall’s hearth mantel chimed twenty-two, and the young king arose from his place at the high board. “It is time,” he said. “Are you all ready?”

And as one the other heads in the hall nodded.

“We are ready,” Cinnia said, “to begin a new chapter in Belmair’s history.”

18

AHURA MAZDA walked back and forth in the circular common room of his wives. In his arms he cradled his week-old daughter, Gemma. “Is she not perfect?” he asked for what was surely the fiftieth time. “She is pure Yafir, are you not, my darling?” he cooed at the baby. “Look at that hair! Silver! Do you know how rare it is nowadays for a Yafir female to have silver hair? And her eyes are already the clearest aquamarine.” He turned to Gemma’s mother. “Thank you, my precious Cinnia.”

“I am not Cinnia, and I am tired of being called by her name,” Sapphira said loudly. “I want my daughter to know who I am, and the true heritage she has on my side.” She was tired of being ignored, and Ahura Mazda had not been nearly as generous with her as she had hoped he would be. She wanted her own apartments in which to raise her daughter. She wanted to keep nursing the child, and not turn her over to a wet nurse. She did not want to sit about with these other women waiting for the Yafir lord to pay her a visit. Sapphira was not happy at all right now, and her behavior became foolishly rash.

The other women looked up, surprised, all but Arlais who waited for the explosion to come. Sapphira was a truly stupid creature. Did she not understand that her value was in her ability to give their husband a daughter, which she had, but also in being Cinnia, daughter of Fflergant, and queen of Belmair? Sapphira had only one value. Her daughter, and there were five other women who could raise that child.