Elka knew that lovely voice. “Gavriel!” she exclaimed as she swung around, instinctively stepping in front of Loethar to protect him.

“Step away from him, Elka,” Gavriel warned.

She felt Loethar’s hands on each of her arms. “Yes, my love, step away from me,” he said gently, pushing her aside. Elka hardly heard his words, so angered was she by Gavriel’s violent stance and order.

“Get your filthy barbarian hands off her,” Gavriel warned.

“Or what, de Vis?” Loethar baited.

“Or I’ll kill you where you stand.”

“Gavriel,” Elka began but his sharp, angry words cut her.

“You be quiet. You betrayed me.”

Before she could respond, Loethar replied, “In more ways than you can imagine.” Elka glared at him but his attention was focused on Gavriel. “Well, what’s stopping you? Strike me down. I’m unarmed and you’re much bigger, stronger than me. It’s what you’ve wanted for years, surely. Here’s your best excuse, de Vis . . . my permission.”

“I don’t need it.”

“Stop this!” Elka said, stepping between them. “I did not betray you when I left, Gavriel. What you and Leo were about to do was unforgivable. But that aside, this man was our prisoner. He deserved fair treatment and he certainly wasn’t going to get it from your exiled, out-of-control king.”

“Really? Fair treatment? Like he treated my father, or King Brennus, or the queen, or all the royals of the Set? Ask him about the children he murdered in cold blood, killing boys of Leo’s age in order to hunt him down one by one. Ask him—”

“You know something, de Vis? I’m getting very tired of that repetitive accusation. I was responsible for all of those deaths, yes. It was war and if you had worn my boots you might know what it was like to walk in them, be a Valisar, be treated like scum by the great Brennus you admire so much but who plays as dark and far dirtier than I ever would, perhaps ever could. I might not have behaved fairly in your estimation, de Vis, but you’re choosing to ignore that I live by the same code of honor that you do. I’ll say it again: I regret the death of your father deeply. He was an honorable man. Brennus cared not so much for his family as his family name. He would kill just as easily as I, except the man I killed would know who wielded the sword and why I sought his death . . . and I would face him, meet his eyes. That same man would not even see Brennus coming. Your king would lurk in the shadows and use someone else’s hand to wield the killing blow . . .”

Elka watched Gavriel blink angrily. Something Loethar had said had resonated but she couldn’t be sure which part.

“Do you think that speech excuses you?”

“Not at all. Killing your father in the manner I did was honest but it was shameful. I live unhappily with that shame. And for that alone you have a right to try and exact my life. But you’ve had chances before and not taken them, and I suspect you won’t take the chance now either. So stop bleating.”

“How do you know what I will do?” Gavriel demanded.

“Then surprise me, de Vis, and make good on your threat,” Loethar said, sounding weary of him.

“Listen to me,” Elka urged. “I had to leave with him to prevent you making a mistake, clouded by your devotion to Leo. And I was right to get Loethar away because I knew you would follow the Valisar before you followed good sense.”

Gavriel turned a look of pure scorn at her. “As you did!”

It broke her heart to see him this distraught. He looked exhausted. He must have run across country for miles, for hours without sleep or sustenance. “So you came all this way to cut Loethar down?”

“I came for you, Elka,” he said and it sounded like an accusation. “I thought he might have taken advantage of you.”

Elka’s cheeks burned with the memory of Loethar’s kiss and how she had wanted it, welcomed it, not wanted it to stop. After believing herself in love with Gavriel for so many anni, how had she swapped her allegiance in a heartbeat for Gavriel’s sworn enemy? How could she look at Loethar and feel so protective, so committed to him? Now that she was faced with Gavriel she did feel like a traitor and her heart hurt for him.

“I did what was right,” she tried. “And he has stuck to my rules. Did you trammel Faris?”

He shook his head. “He escaped.”

“But you would have,” she persisted.

The fight seemed to desert him. “At that moment, yes, I would have.”

She frowned. “But not now?”

“Now I’m just confused, Elka. The king I have devoted my life to protecting has told me he will kill me the next time he lays eyes on me. The man I swore I would kill next time I lay eyes on him is not only urging me to do just that but damn it, Elka you’re on his side!”

She took a step forward. Yes, she definitely knew him too well. He was holding something back, not yet ready to share. “No one’s taking sides, Gavriel. I know you put your lot in with Leo but you’ve also searched your conscience and come up wanting. Leo isn’t the man you hoped he’d be. He doesn’t hold to the same sense of duty as you. For Leo, it’s rule at any cost. For you, it’s about honor. I know you better than anyone.”

“Then why I am here?” he asked, suddenly aware of the others. “Ravan . . . Roddy, you’re here too?” he said, his voice small and shocked.

“Er, I’m Physic Janus, if you’re interested.” Elka held her breath; knew the poor man would fight his affliction as best he could. “And I’d like to . . .”

“Janus is a friend and has helped us,” Elka cut in. Janus gave her a look of gratitude and she smiled back sadly at the damaged man.

Gavriel nodded at Janus before returning his injured expression to her, awaiting his answer.

Elka took a deep breath. “You are here because you know I did the right thing. You have discovered perhaps that the Valisars—including Loethar until recently—all suffer the same delusion: that the crown belongs to them . . . that they have a right to simply take it. They are happy to allow the rest of us to be pawns in their squabbles. You have to decide, as I have, as all of us have, which is best suited to rule, most deserving of your support.”

“Loethar has earned that right in your estimation?”

She shrugged. “Loethar doesn’t even want the crown any more.”

Gavriel shot him an angry glance. “What?”

Loethar nodded. “It’s true. But I don’t need Elka to speak for me. Sit with me, de Vis. Let’s talk.”

“Talk?” Gavriel repeated as though Loethar was mad. “You want me to parley with you, as you parleyed with my father? Perhaps you’ll split me in two just for some entertainment for your followers.”

Everyone sighed, including Roddy.

“Here we go again, de Vis. Your father is dead, man! Dead. He understood war. He took his chances with Brennus and he paid the price for being your cunning king’s stooge. Sooner or—”

Loethar didn’t get any further. Gavriel was upon him at such speed that Loethar, mid-sentence and glancing toward Elka, barely had time to blink.

“Roddy!” she screamed.

In spite of his limp, shockingly fleet for his height, Gavriel demonstrated why he had been the most celebrated of King Brennus’s up and coming brood of young warriors. And as sharp and agile as Loethar was, he was older and could never be as fast as the young, strong de Vis who was upon him, his primeval roar of rage driving the force of his sword’s killing blow, both feet off the ground as he swept the long blade in a mighty horizontal arc.

Its aim was true. It should have hacked Loethar’s head from his shoulders and sent it flying into the undergrowth. He should have watched the arrogant Valisar bastard’s body crumple to its knees before the headless corpse accepted defeat and slumped at his boots.

All of that should have happened.

Instead he stared at his sword as it stopped a finger-width from Loethar’s neck. It struck what felt like a cushion of air and then slid gently away. He couldn’t believe it. Again and again Gavriel raised the sword, hacking uselessly at Loethar, never getting closer than the elusive finger-width.

He refused to accept what was happening, never actually allowed the notion that magic was at work; he just kept striking pointlessly until he found himself spent and on his knees, a deep sob escaping him. He was the one staring at boots. He was the one whose body was accepting defeat.

Into the tight silence he let out an animal-like howl of despair, and it was Loethar—of all people—the man he hated most in the world, who bent down and offered comfort.

“I’m sorry, de Vis,” was all he said but it was said so tenderly and he heard such deep sincerity in the man’s softly spoken words that he didn’t need any more words to be spoken. He understood that Loethar’s apology referred not just to the death of his father but to the loss of a brother, the loss of his memory, the disillusionment of his newly found king and the humiliation here today before Elka, now weeping herself.

He angrily hauled himself to his feet, pushed away the helping hands—especially Elka’s—and stepped back. He sniffed, wiped his face with his sleeve and refused to shed another tear. He swallowed hard and took a moment in the horribly awkward quiet to gather up his bared emotions and put them away.

With his jaw grinding he looked at the thin, elfin form of Roddy.

“So you lied. You are an aegis? I defied my friend—my king—and earned his wrath and enmity to win your freedom from this imprisonment.”

Roddy looked deeply guilty. “Ravan trusts him,” he said softly, glancing toward Loethar.

Gavriel’s gaze did not waver from the boy. “Ravan was his pet bird. Ravan doesn’t exist other than through magic! He’s not real.”

Roddy reached for Ravan’s hand. “He feels real enough to me and that’s all that matters. Ravan doesn’t scare me like everyone else does because Ravan isn’t doing anything for himself. He is fair to everyone. I trust him and he trusts Loethar.”

“But why, Roddy? Why do any of you trust Loethar?”

The lad sighed. “He doesn’t want the crown but he doesn’t think Leo or Piven should take it either.”

“Neither are fit to rule,” Elka said quietly.

“What would a Davarigon know?” Gavriel hurled at her. “Especially one who aligns herself with a tribal barbarian with a bastard claim to the throne.”

Elka flinched as though struck.

Ravan took a step forward, his expression dark and foreboding. “I’m afraid you are wrong there,” he said and in that moment, as he stood alongside and much taller than Loethar, Gavriel was aware of how similar in features the pair looked. “I can assure you that the unethical claim always belonged to Brennus.”

Gavriel stared at the man made of magic, uncomprehending.

Ravan continued. “And you are confused in believing that Leo has any right to claim over Loethar, for Loethar’s claim to the throne precedes Leo’s by a generation.” He paused. “I can see you don’t follow. Let me be clear. Brennus knowingly usurped the Valisar throne.” As Gavriel’s mouth opened in surprise, Ravan held a hand up. “Brennus was Valisar through and through; that is not in contention. But so is Loethar Valisar through and through. He is also the son of Darros the Eighth, older than Brennus by several moons. I might add, the identity of the women who gave birth to either heir has no bearing on the weight of the child’s claim. According to Valisar law there is no such child as a bastard heir. If your father is Valisar you are Valisar and heir to the throne of Penraven.”

“If you feel this way why did you try to help Leo all those years ago?” Gavriel demanded.

“I don’t feel any particular way,” Ravan replied evenly. “On the Steppes my role was to watch over Loethar. When I came to the palace instinct prompted me to watch over all the Valisars. I helped each as best I could. That Piven has come into his powers so strongly and with such a savage view of life is not my doing or my concern. That Leonel has disappointed you with his one-eyed approach to taking back the crown at all costs is of no consequence to me personally. But the fact that Loethar is hailed as a usurper I do find inaccurate and I must uphold his claim. As to the princess, she—”

“Princess? Well, you didn’t waste any time,” Gavriel sneered, casting a sarcastic look toward Ravan and Roddy. “Happy to share your secrets with Loethar but not Leo.”

“It seems the Valisar princess did not die,” Loethar said in his quiet way, seemingly unoffended by Gavriel’s recent attempt to hack him to pieces.

“So I gather. But do we know that for sure?” Gavriel said, his breath sounding suddenly shallow. He began shaking his head, his loyalties feeling as though they were swinging like a pendulum: one minute keeping information from Leo, the next feeling offended when others did. He didn’t want to be discussing this matter of Leo’s sister in this company and yet he couldn’t help himself. He was involved in that episode, his brother, his father too. “I was there,” he growled. “I stood next to my father when King Brennus told us that his daughter had to die. He looked at Corbel as he said it. We were shocked. I mean, I knew my duty was to protect Leo at all costs but Corbel’s role—to protect the princess by killing her . . .” It sickened him to even recount the words. Had Corbel known it was a ruse? He couldn’t have, not when he threw that last disquieting look at Gavriel.

“And what happened then?” Loethar asked, clearly unable to disguise his own intrigue in the tale.

“Er.” Gavriel swept a shaky hand through his hair. “Dragging my mind back . . .” He shook his head, trawling through memories. “After the king told us the terrible plan, Corbel and my father were excused.”

“Why?”

“King Brennus wanted to speak to me privately.”

“So you never actually discussed the death of the baby with your brother?” Loethar prompted.

“I never saw my brother again.” He shook his head and his voice shook with it. “It was a terrible thing to ask of Corbel. He was quiet, prone to a darker temperament than I was, but that didn’t make him capable of killing a child in cold blood. I hated the king in that moment.”

“Then hate him more,” Ravan replied. “Because in holding you back on the pretext of needing to speak with you in private, he was actually preventing you from learning the truth of what your brother was genuinely charged to do.”

“To save her,” Gavriel said in a dead tone.

“No, it was worse. Brennus did ask your brother to murder a child. A baby girl was killed by his hand; I remember a terrible ruckus on the night of Loethar’s attack, a woman screaming that her newborn daughter had gone missing. But her wails were lost in a much larger tragedy for the walls were breached shortly thereafter. Your brother was charged by your father to kill the peasant child purely for appearances.”

“Appearances?” Gavriel murmured, his heart pounding.

“Queen Iselda, even Leo,” Loethar began, then shook his head. “Actually everyone, including myself, believed the baby dead. She was cremated and I stood and watched her ashes cast to the wind. I know the queen believed that was her child; her trauma was not feigned and therein was Brennus’s masterstroke. Even his family believed. No one could give away the secret that the child was alive and being hurried away.”

“By my brother,” Gavriel finished. “Why couldn’t they tell me?”

Loethar shrugged softly. “I suppose for the same reason they couldn’t tell the queen. The grief had to be genuine. If you knew you might try and comfort her or get word to her; and you would surely have told Leo. You might have tried to speak with your brother, be overheard, risk the plan being discovered. Brennus was heartless, de Vis. He didn’t care about how any of you suffered. He didn’t care that he imposed a weighty burden on a young man, asking him to murder a newborn baby stolen from her crib. All that mattered was his crown.”

“So what of the princess? You are all sure she has emerged?”

“Apparently,” Loethar replied.

“She has,” Roddy confirmed. “I know she has.”

“Then you can be sure that whoever is behind her claim is chasing personal glory,” Gavriel warned.

“Were you chasing that same personal glory when you gave up everything to protect and aid Leonel’s claim?” As Gavriel de Vis ground his jaw in barely restrained contempt, Ravan continued. “I say that only because it is your twin brother who is—”

“You’ve seen him?” Gavriel demanded.

“No. I promise I have not.”

“But he’s alive, he’s—?”

“I cannot say. But Roddy and I both experienced a disturbance—a powerful magic. It is our belief the Valisar princess has re-emerged. As she was taken somewhere safe and secret by Corbel de Vis, he is the only person who could have brought her back.”

“How do you know all of this?” Loethar and Gavriel asked together. Gavriel didn’t miss that Loethar threw a wry glance his way.

Ravan shrugged again. “We know things. As we travel I will tell you about a man by the name of Sergius. He is the reason I am of this plane and how I now walk in the guise of a man; how I am drawing upon his knowledge. Sergius is the reason Corbel and the princess are safe and why they were called to return.”

Loethar was frowning. “Where is this Sergius?”

“He’s dead,” Roddy answered. “Murdered by Greven.”

“Greven?” Gavriel said, leaping onto the name. “Greven is the man who helped Leo and myself when we were first escaping your clutch,” he said to Loethar. “It was his daughter who introduced us to Kilt Faris. It seems Greven then met with Piven, although I can’t give you any detail.”

Ravan continued. “Sergius died at the hands of Greven but not by his will. Greven has been trammeled by Piven and is now entirely under his command.”

“And he’s going to kill his brother and sister,” Roddy said.

“And his uncle,” Ravan added tonelessly.

Roddy sighed. “Which is why I had to give myself to Loethar. It’s the only way we’re going to save Leo and the princess.”

“Save . . . ?” He turned first to Loethar, then glanced at Elka.

“No more killing,” she said.

Gavriel finally looked Loethar directly in the eye. “And you are in agreement with this? Or are you pulling one of your cunning tricks over unsuspecting people who really do care about others?”

“There’s not much for me to live for, de Vis,” Loethar said. “In fact, I’ve tried meeting death head on—Stracker tried and you stopped that; Leonel tried and Elka prevented a sure death; you’ve had your opportunities . . .” He paused, for once looking unsure of what to say. “Stracker has to be stopped. So does Piven by the sounds of things and he’s got his aegis and is presumably already at Brighthelm. It’s anyone’s guess what havoc he is wreaking.”

“And you will not harm Leo?”

“I will not,” Loethar promised. “I always keep my word.”

Gavriel stared at him, taking a measure of that promise. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Elka let out a breath. “So?” She looked unsure. “Are we all agreed? We work together, I’m taking us to Lo’s Teeth?”

Everyone nodded except Gavriel. He turned to Ravan. “Is my brother in the mountains?”

“That’s where we believe the princess is, and while I cannot promise, I have to presume he will be too.”

“Then yes, I will come with you.”

“De Vis, that does not answer Elka’s question. She asked if we’re working together. We are committed to the Valisar princess. Have you agreed to join us in that goal?” Loethar demanded.

“If you swear before the people here that you have no intention to take the crown, then I will work with you. Leo might want me dead but I don’t want to see his blood shed. And I certainly don’t want to allow my brother’s suffering to be in vain. I will do anything I can do to aid his duty.”

Loethar shocked them all by kneeling, looking at Roddy as he did so. “I swear to everyone here, and in the presence of my aegis, that his magic will be used only in the protection of the Valisar heirs and not to claim the throne.”

Janus began clapping. Elka looked stunned.

“And now you, de Vis,” Loethar encouraged. “What is your pledge to our witnesses?”

Gavriel gave a tight smile of scorn. “If you’re asking me if I’ll attack you again, the answer is no. Everyone here seems to trust you so I’ll let someone else, in due course, deal you your just deserts.”