“Did you hear her?” Lara said to Kaliq as she drew on her well-worn boots.

“I did,” he answered.

“Protect Marzina at all costs,” Lara said to him. She strapped her singing sword, Andraste, onto her back. “I can protect myself.”

I am Andraste, and I sense the blood of the wicked, the sword sang softly.

“It is time to go,” Kaliq said. “Say your farewell to Shunnar, my love, for we shall not see it again.” His bright blue eyes swept about his garden, and then he led her out to the wide corridor with its open balustrade. Looking down into the valley below, they saw the grassy meadow that had always been there but then, before their eyes, it disappeared, turning to bloodred sand. “Kolgrim’s warning to us that he is now in charge,” Kaliq said grimly. “The darkness has begun, but the light will come again one day.”

Lara looked up into his face. She touched his sensuous lips with hers. “The light will always overcome the darkness, my lord. I will see you in Terah.” And then she was gone in a puff of violet smoke that he noticed was suddenly tinged darker.

Wrapping his cloak about him, Kaliq transported himself to the beautiful rotunda of Grugyn Ahasferus’s house, where the Hetarian wedding ceremony was just beginning. The auburn-haired bride garbed in cream-and-gold silk was weighed down with jewels. The groom was equally resplendent, and the guests were suitably impressed by the ceremony joining the heir to Terah with Grugyn Ahasferus’s last granddaughter.

As it came to an end, Kaliq discreetly opened a Golden tunnel in a rear wall of the rotunda. To the mortal eye it appeared to be a grand corridor with a floor of gold and white marble squares down the center of which had been laid a dark red carpet. The walls of the corridor were lined with gold and crystal sconces burning scented candles that perfumed the air with the fragrance of late-summer lilies. The lights flickered and gleamed, but amazingly did not burn down. The ceiling of this grand passageway was glass that went from sunset to night and finally predawn. Terahns were wed at sunrise. Vaclar and his bride would reach the great gardens of his father’s castle just in time.

Lara had already arrived. At first she was not recognized as the warrior she was. Lara smiled wickedly. “What, Cadarn? You do not know your own great-grandmother?”

He gaped at her.

“This is what you wear to a wedding?” Domina Paulina cried angrily. “Your garb was finer for your son’s wedding. Is Terah to be less respected than Hetar, but then you are Hetarian,” she sneered.

“I am faerie, Domina. Neither Hetarian nor Terahn. This is my natural garb, and I honor you by reminding you of the faerie woman who, not once, but twice, saved Terah. By making a fresh blood tie between the children of Grugyn Ahasferus’s granddaughters I may have given you some respite from what is about to befall you.” Reaching back, Lara drew her sword from its sheath.

Both Dominus Cadarn and his wife stepped back nervously.

Andraste opened her jeweled eyes, fixing them in her stern gaze. I am Andraste, the sword of Justice. I greet you in peace great-grandson of Magnus Hauk, she sang in her deep beautiful voice.

The Dominus and Domina stared openmouthed in surprise.

“How did you make the sword talk,” Cadarn finally asked.

Lara laughed. “Andraste speaks for herself, my lord. I have nothing to do with it. She was forged for me by the great Shadow sword master, Prince Lothair.”

“Magic is not welcome here,” Cadarn said, and his wife nodded vigorously.

“Shall I depart then?” Lara taunted him. “Shall I close the Golden passageway that has just opened into your gardens so the bridal couple may easily emerge from Hetar in order that both you and the family Ahasferus may each have your day of boasting and celebration? Oh! I see your guests have already gathered.” She smiled at the couple.

“Could you not at least dress as the widow of a Dominus should?” Cadarn said.

Lara fixed him with a hard look. “I am dressed as the faerie widow of Magnus Hauk would be dressed. You never knew that female. You only knew the quiet creature who tried so hard not to distress her son’s wife, and her son’s successors by being what she was not. Mortal. I am not mortal, Cadarn. I am Faerie! Be glad I have honored you on this day for after it I will be gone, and with me, all of the magic that once blessed this world. The only hope I can leave with you is that one day the light will come again, for the darkness cannot ever hope to prevail entirely. Now, Domina, go and greet the bridal couple for they are here, and must be properly prepared. It is almost dawn.” Then Lara turned from them and went to greet Kaliq and her daughter, Marzina, who had come through the Golden tunnel together.

The Hetarian guests now coming through from what they believed was a Grand Corridor into the gardens of the Dominus’s castle were both amazed and awed. Stepping into the broad passageway from the great rotunda of Grugyn Ahasferus’s mansion, they had been unable to help looking up at the glass ceiling where the sky was ripe with the setting sun. As they strolled through the corridor’s exquisitely decorated broad hall, admiring its elegance, their eyes kept gazing up. The skies above them grew darker until it was a night filled with myriad twinkling stars that faded into a false dawn and then the predawn sky. As they exited liveried servants hurried to escort them to their places. About them an autumn garden was in full bloom.

Certain of the guests were requested to follow the senior servants. The Ahasferus family, Palben, his wives, the Twilight Lord, Marzina, Kaliq and Lara were brought, not to their seats, but to the royal baths where they joined with the Terahn guests. Through an open portico they could see fingers of color-palest pinks, peaches, lavender and green, followed by potent reds, golds, oranges and purples-reaching forth to stain the sky. Then over the dark rimmed horizon the scarlet sun burst forth.

Vaclar and Yamka were divested of their bridal garments. They were displayed by the bath attendants to the gathered guests to show their bodies were healthy and fit to wed. Although they had been told of this custom the Hetarians present looked somewhat askance on the proceedings. But they stood silent with the Terahns as the young couple were thoroughly bathed before them. Then traditional Terahn wedding garments were brought forth. The Hetarians thought them rather plain and simple.

Yamka was garbed in a long sleeveless gown of white silk. The long skirt was pleated in rows of narrow pleats. The neckline was draped to rest upon her collarbone, and about her waist was a narrow gold chain. The bride’s long dark auburn hair was braided with golden ribbons into a single thick plait, and she wore gold-bejeweled sandals upon her feet. Vaclar’s garb matched his bride’s. He wore a knee-length white silk tunic whose skirt fell in graceful folds rather than pleats. About his waist was a gold chain, and on his feet golden sandals. Around his neck was a heavy gold chain with a ruby pendant carved with the seal of Terah’s heir.

Led back into the gardens that overlooked the fjord, the Domina Paulina placed a wreath of multicolored autumn flowers on the head of her son, the groom, and then on the head of his bride. She joined their hands, and the High Priest from the Temple of the Great Creator began the simple ceremony.

“Do you, Vaclar, son of Dominus Cadarn and Domina Paulina, grandson of Dominus Amhar, great-grandson of Dominus Taj, great-great-grandson of Dominus Magnus and great-great-great-grandson of Dominus Ejnar, of the Clan Hauk, and you, Yamka, daughter of Kavah and his wife, Ahana, granddaughter of Lord Grugyn Ahasferus and his wife, Camilla, pledge yourselves to each other as husband and wife?”

“Yes!” Vaclar said loudly.

“Yes!” Yamka echoed him.

“Then let it be so in the eyes of the Great Creator of us all. You are now wed, Prince Vaclar and Lady Yamka,” the High Priest said. “The Great Creator blesses your union, and gives you many children and much happiness in the years to come. It is done. Now greet your guests!”

The bridal couple turned, and a great cheer went up from the assembled guests.

“So now you have united the world of Hetar as publicly as you did secretly once before,” Kolgrim murmured in Lara’s ear. “You have made it easier for me, dearest mother. Thank you for that.”

“I have done what I could to save these mortals whom you will now drag into the darkness. Just remember, Kolgrim, the darkness will not prevail forever.”

“So say you, but you cannot be certain this time that your words are not hollow,” the Twilight Lord told his mother. “I will overcome the light. And when that day comes I will reach out to Belmair, and then I shall move out into the Cosmos, seeking new worlds to bring under my control.”

“And will the son you have bred on Nyura wait patiently for his chance to rule while you play the conqueror, Kolgrim?” Lara taunted him. “Remember, this child’s veins run doubly with Usi’s blood. He will be stronger than you one day, especially if your beautiful Hetarian mate retains Ulla’s gift,” Lara said wickedly. “She has not given you her power yet, has she? Like all Hetarians, Nyura is acquisitive, my son.”

“She does not know how to use her gift,” Kolgrim shot back.

“But it makes no difference if you do not have it,” Lara retorted. “Oh, dear.”

Kolgrim laughed. “You may be faerie, Mother, but you have a tiny ribbon of cruelty in your heart that quite appeals to me.”

“All faeries do, Kolgrim, and some faeries are quite naughty by nature,” Lara told him as she took his arm, guiding him into a crowd of guests and away from Marzina.

“Then I hope the seeds I have planted in Divsha and Yamka that will one day bloom into two daughters will have that same cruelty,” Kolgrim said to her.

“You seeded your wife’s cousins?” Lara didn’t know if she should be shocked or angry with him at this revelation.

“Do not fear, Mother. They will each bear their husbands a son first. Divsha is already with child. Do you not notice how cool the Lady Laureen is to her today, or how Palben is doting upon her, or how coyly Divsha is behaving. And tonight Vaclar will vigorously seed his bride, and it will be a son. Only then will I permit these females to bloom with my daughters. One day, Yamka’s daughter will wed Divsha’s son. And Divsha’s daughter will wed Yamka’s son. In this manner I will retain my hold on Hetar. Now am I not as clever as you, Mother? Have I not learned well from you?”

“Aye, you have learned from me,” Lara agreed in pleasant tones. “But when will you accomplish something original, Kolgrim? So far all you have done is in imitation of your sire or me.”

His face darkened with the insult, but he smiled, saying in a deadly soft voice, “I will soon have my sister’s magic, Mother dear. Perhaps then we might discuss something unique and original.”

Around them the wedding guests chattered as they moved into the Great Hall of the castle where a magnificent feast had been arranged. A battalion of servants dashed about with great bowls of shellfish boiled in wine or served raw, and enormous platters of roasted game and meats. There were large platters of poultry, and smaller ones of fish, broiled and lying upon beds of seaweed. There were huge bowls of salads, bread fresh from the ovens served upon polished cutting boards, big wheels of hard yellow cheese and smaller rounds of soft cheese. The guests hurried to take their seats as the silver goblets studded in green malachite were filled with rich wines. Each guest would be invited to take their goblet home as a souvenir, indicating to the Hetarians present that Terahns knew how to properly entertain on a great occasion.

You will never have my daughter or her powers! Lara hissed angrily at Kolgrim.

He laughed mockingly.

Lara fought back her rage, which was threatening to boil over. Unreasonable anger weakened one. Her ear caught the soft humming now coming from Andraste. She drew a deep breath to calm herself. Beside her Kolgrim sat eating enthusiastically as if he had not a care in the world. A servant bent to fill her cup. Lara stopped him with her hand. “Spring water,” she said, and the servant nodded, snapping his fingers at an underling who, given the instruction, hurried to fill the silver goblet. Wine would fog her wits at a time when she needed them about her.

Kaliq, seated on the other side of her, reached out and squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Marzina is safe,” he whispered in her ear. “It is but her image seated at this table. I spoke with her as we traversed the corridor between Hetar and Terah. Kolgrim was too busy speaking with the Lord High Ruler Palben to notice. She understood the danger today, and let me transport her to your mother in Belmair.”