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“I don't want to hear this!” Patricia said, marching past them toward the kitchen. She turned back. “If you dare suggest that my daughter has any feelings for that wretched beast, I'll cut your tongue out. She could never love an albino. Never!”

“Of course not. Because if she did, she would have to pay the price required by law.”

“You heard my wife!” Qurong said. “Chelise is incapable of loving an albino! If she did, I would drown her myself. Are you going to continue with this nonsense?”

Ciphus dipped his head. “I'm only doing my duty as your loyal priest, my lord. Just so you remember that no law is above Elyon's law, as all the Horde knows.”

“Fine. Are you finished?”

Woref was seething, and Qurong thought it odd. Surely he'd been forthcoming. Neither answered him.

“Then get out! Both of you. I don't want to hear of this again.”

They stepped back, bowed, and left the room.

“How dare they?” his wife snapped.

“They dare because they are far more powerful than you may realize,” he said. “This religion and this Elyon of his may be a lot of nonsense, but we used it to our benefit to control the people. This on pain of death, that on pain of death . . . the whole system one of threats and rewards dictated by some god we can't see. Ciphus is the only one the people see. His word is nearly as powerful as mine.”

“Then it's time you threw him out!”

“So the people could throw me out?”

“You have an army! Squash the people.”

“The army are the people! I've put Elyon above me, and they prefer it that way. They feel less captive. They're serving a god, not a man.”

He picked up a green pear and took a bite. “Power is always in the balance, my wife. I no longer have the power to upset that balance. Not if it works against me.”

38

T
he guard opened the door that led into the dungeon while Woref was still ten yards from it. Fifty torches blazed in the midnight hour, lighting the perimeter of the compound and path to the single entrance. If the albinos came for Thomas now, they would have to fight their way through three hundred of his best warriors. Even then, there was no way into Thomas's cell. Woref carried the only key, and nothing short of the black powder the Forest Guard had once used would blast the bars free.

He stooped beneath the door's thick lintel and descended the long flight of steps, the guard just behind.

“Wait here,” he said, taking the torch. He walked down the narrow corridor, boots loud on the rock floor.

There was a terrible risk in this plan of his, but the moment Chelise had spoken those words—
Forgive me, my love, forgive me—
Woref vowed to change her. Or kill her.

Thomas was no longer his concern. They would use him, destroy him, drown him. None of it would change anything. His bride's love was all that mattered now. His whole purpose for living had focused on this day, he realized. The sum of his life would come down to winning and losing love.

Over time, he could persuade Chelise to submit to him. But as long as she loved Thomas, her affection would be compromised. And if he killed Thomas now, he would only live on in her mind, haunting Woref forever.

He couldn't kill Thomas. Not yet.

But he could use Thomas to secure Chelise's love.

Woref descended the second set of stairs quickly, eagerly. Ciphus had approved the plan for his own reasons, namely, to save Chelise's life. If she publicly rejected Thomas and openly embraced Woref, the matter of her heart would be settled.

Woref heard the prisoner shuffle to his feet. Expecting another glimpse of his dear love, perhaps?
You and your kind are the worst life has to offer.
And when I'm finished grinding you under my feet, I'll commit my life to finishing
off the rest.

Thomas was standing in the middle of the cell, peering out expectantly when Woref stopped before the bars. His eyes glanced to Woref 's right, then returned when he saw the corridor was empty.

Woref paced, primarily to squash his impulse to throw open the door and kill the man where he stood. He blinked away sweat that leaked into his eyes.

“You and your precious Circle are finished, Thomas. I'm sure you realize that by now.”

The albino just looked at him.

“Your problem is that you misunderstand sentiments intended merely for self-gratification. Affection, loyalty, love. Your friends will come to your aid, bound by honor, but they will only find their own deaths. We will use their misguided sense of duty to our advantage.”

Still no reaction.

“You can't save your friends, but you can save Chelise.”

His eyes moved.

“You do love her. I can see that.” Woref felt sickened by his own words, but he pushed on. “And if you love her, I would think you would be interested in saving her life.”

“I love her,” the albino said. “More than my life.”

“I'm not interested in your life!” Woref shouted. He calmed himself. “Do you know the price that she will pay for this heretical sentiment you've dragged out of her? You've sentenced her to death. It's our law.”

“Qurong won't kill his own daughter. She'll never admit her love for me openly. And her father will believe her over you.”

“Then I will kill her!” Woref said. He was trembling, but he didn't care. Let the jackal know the truth. “Only Elyon himself knows how des-perately I need this woman,” he said. “If she won't love me, then she won't love any man. I'll rip her tongue out and throw her to the dogs.”

Fear slowly crossed the albino's face. “You won't,” he said. “You're too consumed with your own life to risk it.”

“I will. There are ways to kill that cannot be traced. I can assure you, the death of Chelise will be brutal.”

Thomas's mouth turned down and began to twitch. His breathing was shallow.

Woref smiled. “You know that I'm capable of this. You know, in fact, that I would relish it.” He could hear both of their breathing now, loud and ragged in the narrow passage. The implications of what he was saying had the albino's mind in a vise. Woref hadn't expected to feel so much pleasure.

“If Chelise still loves you in three days' time, she will die. Only you can save her life. I've arranged for you to spend time with her in the morning. No one will know. I will give you this one opportunity to change her mind and her heart.”

His words hung in the air between them. And their meaning had its full intended effect. Tears flooded the albino's eyes and ran down his cheeks. His face knotted. He slowly lifted both hands, gripped his hair, and began to weep silently.

Woref smiled.

There was nothing else to say, but he was transfixed by this sight of such terrible sorrow. The albino loved the woman nearly as much as he himself did. And what could the albino say? Nothing. He was outwitted. Trapped.

He would have to find a way to convince Chelise that he no longer loved her.

“I will be listening and watching. Don't think that you can fool me.”

Woref turned and walked from the cell.

The albino's sobbing began when he was halfway down the second corridor.

39

H
e had been sucked into the darkest, coldest corner of reality and left there to rot. There wasn't a sound except for his own sobs and the long wails that he tried in vain to silence. He couldn't see—not the walls, not the cold stone floor, not his fingers if he put them an inch from his eyes. His body shivered and his mind refused to sleep.

But all of this was like paradise compared to the hell that engulfed Thomas's heart.

He lost his sense of time. There was black and there was cold and there was pain. How could he do what Woref had demanded? He thought about a hundred ways to save Chelise without crushing her love. His love. But not a single one could hold his trust.

With Woref or his conspirators listening, watching, the slightest advance that Thomas might make would result in her death. She wouldn't be told, of course. She would see him and run to him for an embrace, and he would have to push her away. Woref wanted to see her heart crushed by Thomas so that she would receive Woref 's love.

Thomas was being forced to make her despise him. It was the only way to save her life.

But what could he do to make her despise him? The answer drained his body of tears.

Now Thomas wanted to do nothing but sleep. Dream. Anything to tear him away from this agony. In all of his fury, Woref had neglected to make him eat the fruit. If only he could die of the virus and never wake again. If only there was a rhambutan fruit in the other reality that he could eat so that he would never have to come back here to crush her heart.

But the more he tried to shut down his mind, the more it revolted in desperation to find one flicker of light. One thread of hope.

There was none.

He finally lay on his back, staring at the dark. For a very, very long time, nothing happened.

And then a sound reached him. The sound of boots.

“Why the back door?” Chelise asked.

“I understand that your father wants no one to disturb you,” Ciphus said, opening the door to the library. “I assume he knows that certain people would object.”

She stepped into the hall. “I don't understand. Some time alone with the Books of Histories might clear my mind, yes, but I don't see why any-one would object.”

“Did I say alone, my dear?”

Thomas? Ciphus wore a knowing grin. Father had arranged for her to see Thomas? No, that would make no sense!

Chelise stopped. “What's happening, Ciphus? I demand to know!”

“I can't say for sure. I was told only to bring you here and ask you to wait with the Books. Your father understands that you will spend the day resting in the library. You're not feeling well enough to do that?”

“I feel fine. It doesn't explain all this secrecy.”

“Please, Chelise, this wasn't my doing.”

Ciphus opened the door into the large storage room and walked in. Chelise followed. The last time she'd been in here had been with Thomas. The memories soothed her like a warm salve.

Ciphus turned to leave.

“Woref knows I'm here?”

“Woref? I'm guessing he's with your father. Your wedding day does require some planning.”

“My mother told me just this morning that I wouldn't marry anyone I didn't approve of. I don't approve of Woref.”

“Then maybe that's why your father agreed to your being here. Maybe its the safest place for you. Woref won't take a refusal lightly. Let the peace in this room calm you. You're as safe here as in the castle.”

Ciphus left. She'd agreed to come because her mother was driving her frantic, and the servants were gawking at her as if she'd risen from the dead. Her mind was on Thomas, and she couldn't stand walking around the castle thinking of him.

Now she wondered if she'd made a mistake. There were no busybodies peering at her here, but this room with all these Books made her feel empty. Alone.

Chelise crossed to the desk and stared at the Book Thomas had tried to teach her to read. She couldn't read it because it was designed to be read by those whose eyes were opened. She was surprised that she could accept that so easily now.

She had to be careful. Thomas was in the dungeon—the thought made her sick. But she couldn't endanger his life by attempting to secure his release. Woref knew. A shiver ran down her spine and she closed her eyes. Their predicament was hopeless now. The only man who truly loved her was sealed in a tomb, and she had no will to live without him. If Thomas wasn't imprisoned, she would simply run. She would find the Circle and dive into their red pool and find a new life.

But if she ran now, they would kill him. And if they knew how she felt about him, they would kill both of them.

Her head ached. She'd covered her bruises with morst, but the pain from the blows would take a few days to ease. Mother seemed convinced that she'd been abused by the albinos. With Thomas in the dungeon, Chelise wasn't sure what to tell her.

She pulled the chair out and started to sit when the door suddenly opened.

Thomas stepped in.

The door closed behind him. Locked.

The blood drained from her face. They'd brought Thomas here? His face was ashen and his eyes were red, but he wasn't cut or bruised.

She glanced around. The room was empty, of course. And the door was locked.

Tears sprang to her eyes and she hurried toward him. “Thomas!”

He wasn't looking at her. Something was wrong.

“What have they done to you? I'm so sorry—”

“Stay away from me,” he said, lifting his hand.

She stopped. “What . . . What do you mean?” She glanced at the door. Someone was listening? “They're listening?”

“How should I know? It doesn't matter. I've been found out.”