Donovan's Woman (15 page)

Marri’s enthusiasm for home waned as they crossed the moat to Brynn Castle. Why had she come here?

Gathering her courage, she swept into the Great Hall. She was tired of being afraid. She had every right to be here. The throne was rightfully hers, if she wanted it. But right now, she had more important things on her mind. Seleena was a powerful witch, but why fight Serepta with one witch when she had two? Nardik had never refused her anything. Surely he would help her now.

“Marri.”

She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of Artur’s voice. “I don’t have time to argue with you now,” she said. “Gryff needs my help.”

“This won’t take long. If you will publicly renounce your right to the throne, you may live here in peace for as long as you wish.”

“Whatever you want. But later. I need Nardik. Where is he?”

“I am here, child.”

Marri looked to her right and saw him standing beside Seleena. Not exactly standing. They were in each other’s arms.

Marri darted a glance at Artur, one brow raised.

He shook his head, his expression as surprised as hers certainly was. “I say, what’s going on here?”

Nardik lifted his head. “Seleena and I are old friends.” He smiled down at her. “Very old friends.” After a moment, he focused on Marri. “What did you want?”

“Gryff is being held in Serepta’s castle. I was hoping you and Seleena could help me free him.”

Sadness tugged at Nardik’s features. “I fear she will never change.”

“I fear you are right,” Seleena agreed.

“Perhaps it is time to revoke her magic.”

Seleena nodded.

“Can you do that?” Marri asked. “Take away her magic?”

Wrapping one arm around Seleena’s shoulders, Nardik turned to face Marri. “We gave it to her. We can take it away.”

“Will she still be a vampire?”

“Yes. Until now, her magical powers have allowed her to walk in daylight, to eat and drink mortal food. But once her magic is gone, she will be forced to live as a vampire, with all that it entails.”

Marri shuddered at the thought. “How soon can we leave?”

“Whenever you wish.”

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

* * *

Staring up at the ceiling, Gryff listened to the slow, even breathing of the woman beside him. One day as her prisoner and it already felt like a lifetime.

Rolling onto his side, he propped himself on one elbow. She was a beautiful woman, as beautiful as she was evil. He lifted his right hand, imagined it curled around her throat. Could he choke the life out of her before she woke? Or, better yet, shift into the wolf and rip out her black heart.

It would be murder. Cold-blooded murder.

How could he go to Marri with another woman’s blood — even Serepta’s blood — on his hands?

He stared at her throat, imagined his fingers tightening around it, slowly squeezing the life from his body…

The next thing he knew, he was back in his cell in the dungeon.

* * *

Gryff bolted upright, all his senses alert. He hadn’t seen Serepta or anyone else since the witch spirited him back to his cell last night. Had she somehow divined his murderous thoughts? Damn and blast. Had he put Marri’s life in danger again?

He thrust the question aside as, eyes narrowed, he probed the darkness. Seeing nothing, he shifted into the wolf. There! Three dark shapes ghosting down the pitch-black corridor toward him. Marri! Her scent filled his nostrils. What the hell was she doing back here?

Snuffling, he caught Seleena’s scent.

The tall man beside her was a stranger.

A low growl rose in the wolf’s throat as the trio reached his cell. The man waved his hand, and the torch set high in the wall flickered to life.

“Hurry,” Seleena whispered. “We don’t have much time.”

The man threw her a smile. “Patience, woman. We have all the time we need.” He murmured something in a language the wolf didn’t recognize. A moment later, the cell door swung open.

With a wordless cry, Marri rushed into the cell and threw her arms around the wolf’s neck.

He shook her off, then resumed his own shape. “Are you out of your mind? What are you doing here?”

“We came to rescue you, you ungrateful beast.”

“Yeah, well you’re too late. She’s here.”

The man pushed Marri into the cell and put Seleena behind him, then turned to face Serepta.

She paused an arm’s length away. “Mother, how nice to see you.”

Seleena inclined her head but said nothing.

“If you’ve come for Gryff, you’re wasting your time,” Serepta said. “He gave me his word he would stay here. So, be gone, all of you. Unless you wish to join him.” She stared at the man, her brows drawn in a frown. “Have we met?”

He nodded. “On the day you were born.”

Her frown deepened.

“I am Nardik.”

Her eyes widened. Evidently she had heard of him, Gryff thought.

Serepta’s gaze moved from Nardik’s face to her mother’s and back again.

The wizard nodded. “Yes. I’m your father. And you, my dear daughter, are going to release this man from his promise.”

Serepta made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “What right do you have to come here and dictate what I will do? Father!” She spat the word. “I have no father!”

“Do not defy me,” he warned.

“I’m not afraid of you!”

Gryff felt Serepta gathering her power as she spoke. It raised the hairs at his nape, made the hairs on his arms stand at attention. He grabbed Marri and backed deeper into the cell as the room grew thick with magic.

Oblivious to whatever spell his daughter was conjuring, Nardik grabbed Serepta by the arm and jerked her toward him.

Serepta tore free of her father’s grasp. Bodies rigid, they stared at each other, a silent duel raging between them. Sparks exploded through the air. It was, Gryff thought, a literal battle between good and evil.

Serepta was rumored to be the most powerful witch in the land. Watching the battle, Gryff feared the rumors might be true. He could feel her evil magic crawling over his skin.

Eyes blazing, Nardik hissed, “Now!” He lunged forward, his cloak folding around Serepta like the wings of a large black bird until it covered her from head to heel. Seleena rushed forward at the same time, her arms wrapping around Nardik and their daughter.

Power seethed in the room as the three witches struggled.

As if someone had turned a switch, the air stilled.

Marri looked up at Gryff. “What’s happening?”

He shook his head. “Beats the hell out of me.” He drew Marri closer as Seleena backed up a few steps. Nardik’s cloak fell away. He stood straight and tall, his dark eyes alight.

Gryff frowned. Serepta looked the same, and yet…something was different.

“What have you done?” Serepta stared at her parents. “What have you done?” She screamed the words.

“Deprived you of your gift,” Nardik said, his voice as cold as the stone floor. “You have abused it long enough.”

“No! No, that’s impossible!”

“I am sorry,” Nardik said quietly. “Seleena, let us depart.” Taking Seleena’s hand, he turned to go.

Serepta stood there, her expression blank. And then, eyes filled with rage, she lunged at Gryff, fangs bared, her hands like claws.

With a growl, Gryff shoved Marri out of the way, shifted to the wolf, and sprang at the vampire’s throat. He was bigger, stronger, and he drove her backward, landing on top of her when she hit the floor. Burying his teeth in her throat, he shook his head.

Blood sprayed from the killing wound, staining the floor, the walls, his muzzle.

When he was sure she was dead, he backed away. Lifting his head, he stared at Nardik and Seleena.

The wizard nodded. “We’ll wait for you outside.”

Uncertain of what Marri’s reaction would be, Gryff hesitated a moment before resuming his own shape, then slowly turned toward her.

Marri blew out a sigh. Ripping a piece of material from Serepta’s skirt, she wiped the blood from his face. “Let’s go home.”

* * *

When they arrived at Brynn Tor, a page hurried to summon Marri’s brother from his private chamber.

Artur entered the Great Hall wearing a white shirt, baggy brown trousers, and his favorite forest green cloak. Taking his place on the throne, his gaze moved over Marri and Gryff before settling on the wizard. “So, Nardik, I see you have brought them all safely home.”

“Yes,” the wizard said. “And a surprise, as well.”

“A surprise?” Artur leaned forward, looking as eager as a child awaiting a treat. “What might that be?”

With a wave of his hand, Nardik opened the door on the north side of the Hall.

An audible gasp erupted from Artur’s throat when he saw his father — and the woman standing at his side.

“Mama.” Marri’s eyes filled with tears as her parents entered the room.

When Amerris opened her arms, Marri ran to her. With tears running down her cheeks, she embraced her mother. She had a hundred questions to ask, but none of them seemed important now.

“How I’ve missed you.” Amerris stroked her daughter’s hair.

“Where have you been?”

“Not far. Nardik kept me informed about things happening here. When he told me you intended to renounce the throne, I knew I had to come home. I will not let that happen, daughter. I will not let Artur sit on the throne of Brynn Tor.”

“Here, now,” Leonid said, glancing from one to the other. “What are you talking about?”

Amerris pointed an accusing finger at her son. “Ask him. Ask him for the truth of what happened to his brothers. Or why Annis ran away in fear for her life. And Marri, too. Ask him!”

Marri looked at Artur, watched him shrink at their mother’s accusations.

Leonid snorted with disdain. “Did Marri fill your head with this nonsense? She came to me with the same wild stories, claiming Artur killed Caddor and Cobb.”

“And you didn’t believe her.”

“How could I?”

Amerris shook her head. “Artur was always your favorite. When he was a child, you turned a blind eye to his cruelty, refused to believe any who spoke against him. But it was all true. When he killed Cobb, I could no longer stay here with him. Or with you.”

Leonid approached the throne. “Tell me,” he said, his voice ringing off the walls. “Tell me the truth!”

Artur shook his head. “Lies!” he shouted. “It’s all lies!”

Leonid glanced over his shoulder. “Nardik?”

“Amerris speaks the truth. It is the boy who lies.”

“Artur,” the king said quietly. “Tell me the truth.”

Eyes blazing maniacally, he screamed, “I did it! I killed them all! The throne is mine!” Pulling the jeweled dagger from the sheath at his side, Artur sprang at his father. His aim was true. The blade buried itself to the hilt in the king’s heart.

Marri screamed, “No!” as her father dropped to his knees, one hand clutching his chest.

Gryff ran forward, intending to put himself between Artur and Marri. He was halfway there when Nardik conjured a lance from mid-air and hurled it at Artur.

It buried itself in his back.

With a cry of pained surprise, the boy who would be king fell dead at his father’s feet.

Amerris covered her face with her hands.

Marri stared at her brother, seeing him as he had been so many years ago — a happy baby, a curious toddler, an energetic little boy. What had changed him into the man he had become?

Turning away, she buried her face against Gryff’s chest and let her tears flow.

* * *

Feeling numb, Marri stood at the window of her bedchamber. Night had fallen and the castle lay quiet beneath a pair of bright yellow moons. Everything had happened so fast, she was still trying to sort it out in her mind.

Gryff had killed Serepta. Marri had tried to feel at least a hint of regret at the witch’s death, but it was impossible. The woman had been evil inside and out.

Artur was dead, killed by Nardik. The thought brought a wave of fresh tears. Again, she tried to summon some sense of loss and failed. Her tears were not for Artur, but for Caddor and Cobb, for the years of pain and suffering that Artur’s obsession with the throne had caused their family.

Her father was dead, killed by his own son. Grief shredded her heart. Her father might yet be alive if he had listened when she tried to warn him about Artur.

Earlier, she had inquired as to Talitha’s whereabouts, only to learn that her former chambermaid had fled the castle moments after Marri returned. A wise decision, Marri thought. She had no sympathy for the woman who had betrayed her.

She dried her tears when someone knocked at the door. Sensing her wish to be alone, Gryff had left the castle, no doubt to go running beneath the full moon. Expecting his return, she called, “It’s open. Come in.”