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  • Home > Anne Bishop > Black Jewels > Twilight's Dawn (Chapter 46)      Page
  • Twilight's Dawn(Black Jewels,Book 9)(46) by Anne Bishop
  • *Who?*

    *Rainier.*

    *We’ll be there.*

    The link between them snapped as Daemon shut him out. He didn’t take offense. He’d just dumped a basket of problems in his brother’s lap, the most dangerous being the Queen they both loved and still served—the Queen who was also a Black Widow and a Healer. There wasn’t going to be anything pleasant about being in a Coach with Jaenelle while riding the Winds to Ebon Rih, not after telling her that Rainier was the reason for the urgent call.

    Vanishing his knife, Lucivar looked at Rainier, who lay on the floor, his eyes closed, his face tight with pain. Then he looked at the two Warlords. “Can you get him to the Keep?”

    They nodded. Using Craft, they lifted Rainier and gently floated him out of the eyrie.

    Hallevar looked at the rest of the Warlords, then jerked a thumb toward the door.

    The men bolted, no doubt glad to be clear of the anger and whatever problems were coming.

    “Falonar is a Sapphire-Jeweled Warlord Prince and your second-in-command,” Hallevar said. “I trained you both when you were youngsters in the hunting camps, and that gives me some leave to speak my mind, but a Warlord Prince only tolerates so much of that.”

    Lucivar just waited.

    “It started with Falonar saying something about assessing Rainier’s skills, and Rainier saying he thought it was best to wait for you. Guess that didn’t sit well with Falonar because the next thing I knew, he tossed a sparring stick to Rainier and started the moves. Once you’re that far, the choice is counter the moves or get whacked. I began watching close. You’d said the Dharo Warlord Prince had been wounded in a fight and you had him here to heal and improve his skills. I don’t think you said how bad the leg was. That’s not an excuse, but I don’t think you actually said.”

    “A war blade sliced through the muscles of Rainier’s leg and halfway through the bone. He was fighting a demon-dead Eyrien Warlord who had worn Jewels stronger than Opal,” Lucivar said.

    “Then Rainier never had a chance.”

    “No. He wasn’t supposed to have a chance. He wasn’t supposed to survive. No one who had been trapped in that spooky house was supposed to survive.”

    Hallevar sighed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with Falonar lately, but I do know it’s something to do with you.”

    Lucivar echoed the sigh. “Not surprising.”

    “Not surprising,” Hallevar agreed. “But I think you’d best find out why.”

    THREE

    Lucivar and Daemon waited in one of the Keep’s sitting rooms while Jaenelle did what she could for Rainier.

    Daemon had blocked him from talking to Jaenelle when they arrived at the Keep. She’d gone to the room where Rainier had been taken; Lucivar had ended up prowling a sitting room with a brother whose effort to control an icy temper was much too obvious.

    “How angry is she over this?” Lucivar finally asked.

    “Old son, you don’t want to ask that question,” Daemon replied softly.

    “It wasn’t Rainier’s fault. Something’s been pushing at him and he’s been stupid about the leg because of it, but this wasn’t his fault.”

    “He’s not the only one who has something pushing at him,” Daemon said. “I’ve been informed, discreetly, that Surreal isn’t sleeping well, is up reading or just pacing in the town house’s sitting room through the wee hours of the morning. She locked down so tightly after getting out of the spooky house, I don’t think she’s allowed herself to feel. Sooner or later that control will break.”

    “And things will get messy.”

    He circled the room a couple of times before Daemon said, “What’s chewing on you?”

    “A lot of things, but the one bothering me the most is how she went after Falonar. Sight-shielded knife. Man sees a pissed-off woman throwing herself at him with nothing visible in her hands, he thinks of fists and flailing and angry words and boohooing. She knew that. She didn’t challenge him, didn’t square off for a fight.”

    “She’s not Eyrien, and she’s not male. Surreal doesn’t play by those rules.”

    “Sometimes she does,” Lucivar said. “Sometimes she’ll draw the line, and there’s no mistake she’s looking for a punch-and-roll brawl. But she wasn’t interested in giving a warning this time. She went for him, Daemon. If I hadn’t been there, she would have killed him before he’d realized that was her intent.”

    “Are you sure that was the intent?”

  • Romance | Fantasy | Vampire