Black dawn (12 page)
He caught her, but he couldn't stand up either.
Maggie knew that as well
as she knew what was
going on in her own body. He sank to his knees,
holding her.
What are you doing to me?
It was a thought, but it wasn't Maggie's. It was
his.
I don't know
...
I'm not doing it
... I don't understand!
Maggie had no idea how to send her
thoughts to another person. But she didn't need to,
it was simply happening. A pure line of communi
cation had been opened between them. It was a
fierce and terrible thing, a bit like being fused to
gether by a bolt of lightning, but it was also so wonderful that Maggie's entire skin was prickling and her mind was hushed with awe.
She felt as if she'd been lifted into some new and
wonderful place that most people never even saw. The air around her seemed to quiver with invisible wings.
This is how people are supposed to be,
she
thought.
Joined like this. Open to each other.
With
nothing hidden and no stupid walls between them.
A thought came back at her, sharp and quick
as
a hammer strike.
No!
It was so cold, so full of
rejection, that
for a moment Maggie was taken aback. But then she sensed
what else was behind it.
Anger
... and fear.
He was afraid of this, and
of her. He felt invaded.
Exposed.
Well, I do, too,
Maggie said mentally. It wasn't
that she wasn't afraid. It was that her fear was irrel
evant. The force that held them was so much more
powerful than either of them, so immeasurably ancient, that fear was natural but not important. The
same light shone through each of them, stripping
away their shields, making them transparent to
each other.
It's all right for you. Because you don't have any
thing to be ashamed
of!
The thought flashed by so
quickly that Maggie wasn't even sure she had
heard it.
What do you mean?
she
thought.
Wait
...
That was his name.
.
She knew it
now, as unquestionably as she knew the names of
her own family. She realized, too, as a matter of
minor importance, an afterthought, that he was a prince. A vampire prince who'd been born to rule this secret kingdom, as the
Redfern
family had ruled it for centuries.
The old king was your father,
she said to him.
And he died three years ago, when you were fourteen.
You've been ruling ever since.
He was pulling away from her mentally, trying to
break the contact between them.
It's none of your
business,
he snarled.
Please wait,
Maggie said. But as she chased after him mentally, trying to catch him, to help him,
something shocking and new happened, like a second bolt of lightning.
CHAPTER 9
S
he was in his mind. It was all around her, like a
strange and perilous world.
A terribly frightening
world, but one that was full of stark beauty.
Everything was angles, as if she'd fallen into the
heart of a giant crystal.
Everything glittered, cold
and clear and sharp.
There were flashes of color as
light shimmered and reflected, but for the most
part it was dazzling transparency in every direction. Like the fractured ice of a glacier.
Really
dangerous,
Maggie thought. The spikes of crystal around her had edges like swords. The place
looked as if it had never known warmth or soft
color.
And you
live
here?
she
thought to
Go away.
.
on
a wave of cold wind.
Get out!
No,
Maggie said.
You
can't scare me. I've climbed
glaciers before.
It was then that she realized what
this place reminded her of.
A summit.
The bare
and icy top of a mountain where no plants-and
certainly no people-could survive.
But didn't
anything
good
ever happen to you?
she
wondered.
Didn't you ever have a friend
...
or a
pet
...
or something?
No friends,
he said shortly.
No
pets. Get out of here before I hurt you.
Maggie didn't answer, because even as he said it
things were changing around her. It was as if the
glinting surfaces of the nearby crystals were sud
denly reflecting scenes, perfect little pictures with
people moving in them. As soon as Maggie looked
at one, it swelled up and seemed to surround her.
They were his memories. She was seeing bits of
his childhood.
She saw a child who had been treated as a
weapon from the time he was born. It was all about
some prophecy. She saw men and women gathered
around a little boy, four years old, whose
black
lashed
golden eyes were wide and frightened.
"No question about it," the oldest man was say
ing. Delos's teacher, Maggie realized, the knowl
edge flowing to her because Delos knew it, and she
was in
"This child is one of the Wild Powers," the
teacher said, and his voice was full of awe and
fear. His trembling hands smoothed out a brittle
piece of scroll. As soon
as
Maggie saw it she knew
that the scroll was terribly old and had been kept
in the
even when it was lost to the outside world.
"Four Wild Powers," the old man said, "who will
be needed at the millennium to save the world-or-
to destroy it. The prophecy tells where they will
come from." And he read:
"One from the land of kings long forgotten;
One
from the hearth which still holds the
spark;
One from the Day World where two eyes are
watching;
One from the twilight to be one with the dark.
",
The child
them.
"'The land of kings, long forgotten,"' a woman
was saying. "That must be the
"Besides, we've seen what he can do," a big man
said roughly. "He's a Wild Power, all right. The blue
fire is in his blood. He's learned to use it too early, though; he can't control it. See?"
He grabbed a small arm-the left one-and held
it up. It was twisted somehow, the fingers clawed and stiff, immobile.
The little boy tried to pull his hand away, but he
was too weak. The adults ignored him.
"The king wants us to find spells to hold the
power in," the woman said. "Or he'll damage him
self permanently."
"Not to mention damaging us," the rough man
said, and laughed harshly.
The little boy sat stiff and motionless as they
handled him like a doll. His golden eyes were dry
and his small jaw was clenched with the effort not
to give in to tears.
That's awful,
Maggie said indignantly, aiming her
thought at the
It's
a terrible
way
to grow up. Wasn't there anybody who cared about you?
Your father?
Go
away, he said.
I don't need your sympathy.
And your arm,
Maggie said, ignoring the cold emptiness of his thought. Is
that what happens to
it
when you use the blue fire?
He didn't answer, not in a thought directed at
her. But another memory flashed in the facets of a crystal, and Maggie found herself drawn into it.
She saw a five-year-old
wrapped in what looked like splints or a brace. As
she looked at it, she knew it wasn't just a brace. It was made of spells and wards to confine the blue fire.
"This is it," the woman who had spoken before
was saying to the circle of men. "We can control
him completely."
"Are you sure? You witches are careless some
times. You're sure he can't use it at all now?" The
man who said it was tall, with a chilly, austere
face-and yellow eyes like
Your father,
Maggie said wonderingly to
And his name was ...
Tormentil
? But ...
She couldn't go on, but she was thinking that he didn't
look much like a loving father. He seemed just like
the others.
"Until I remove the wards, he can't use it at all.
I'm sure, majesty." The woman said the last word in an everyday tone, but Maggie felt a little shock.
Hearing somebody get called majesty-it made him
more
of a king, somehow.
"The longer they're left on, the weaker he'll be,"
the
woman continued. "And
he
can't take them off
himself. But I can, at any time--"
"And then he'll still be useful as a weapon?" "Yes. But blood has to run before he can use the blue fire."
The king said brusquely, "Show me."
The woman murmured a few words and stripped
the brace off the boy's arm. She took a knife from
her belt and with a quick, casual motion, like Mag
gie's grandmother gutting
a salmon, opened a gash on his wrist.
Five-year-old
sound. His golden eyes were fixed on his father's face
as
blood dripped onto the floor.
"I don't think this is a good idea," the old teacher
said. "The blue fire isn't meant to be used like this,
and it damages his arm every time he does it=
"Now," the king interrupted, ignoring him and
speaking to the child for the first time. "Show me
how strong you are, son. Turn the blue fire on
..." He glanced up deliberately at the teacher. "Let's
say-him."
"Majesty!"
The old man gasped, backing against
the wall.
The golden eyes were wide and afraid.
"Do it!" the king said sharply, and when the little
boy shook his head mutely, he closed his hand on
one small shoulder. Maggie could see his fingers
tighten painfully. "Do what I tell you.
Now!"
