“What are you doing?” she asked him.

“There was no time below to change your garments since you decided to be difficult,” Dillon said. “It would be very odd if they found you unconscious in the garden wearing a totally different dress than the one you had gone out in.”

“But I’m not in the garden,” she said. “I’m here with you, and I shouldn’t be!”

“We had all best return to where we belong now,” Agenor said, smiling, as he looked over the edge of the boat. “Welcome home, my queen.”

“Swim for but half of an hour, Agenor, and you will find you are in the sea off of your own beach. I would not leave you and your people here to make the long trip home. And in your cave you will find a small token of my appreciation. You already know you have the loyalty and friendship of Belmair’s king,” Dillon responded.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Agenor said. Then he said to his people, “The king has made magic for us. We will be home very shortly.”

“Goodbye, Cinnia,” Antea said, smiling.

“Goodbye,” Cinnia replied.

The Merfolk were quickly out of sight, and Cinnia realized that she could see a green coast ahead of them. She remained silent as Dillon sailed their little boat into a small cove. With a wave of his hand he transported them to a sandy beach, along with a willow basket, which she soon saw contained food and wine.

They settled themselves, and after taking a sip of wine she had the courage to ask him, “What have you done, my lord? Surely you know that under our laws I can never again be your wife?”

“The law has been changed, my love,” he said, and leaned forward to kiss her lips.

Cinnia drew away from him. “No,” she said.

“Have you fallen in love with the Yafir then that you will not kiss me?” he asked.

“No, I do not love the Yafir. But you are Belmair’s king. You cannot change the law so you may flout it, Dillon,” Cinnia told him.

“The law is not for me,” he said. “It is for all the women who would like to live again in Belmair with their Yafir husbands. I still mean to make a peace between us. As far as Belmair will be concerned you are not Cinnia, daughter of Fflergant. You are Sapphira, niece of Duke Tullio of Beldane, and my mistress.”

“What?” She looked at him as if he had gone mad.

“Sapphira was exactly like you in all ways but her eyes, which were a dark green. They are now light. She will be found unconscious in the Yafir lord’s garden, a bump upon her head. Her memories will be muddled and confused, but they will return. But when they do it is to be hoped she is already with child-I believe Ahura Mazda covets a daughter, and he will have one-and she will discover all the wealth she desires can be hers. Sapphira is a very venal and extraordinarily lustful woman. I believe she will be content to be Cinnia instead of herself under those circumstances.” He smiled at her, taking her hand and kissing it tenderly. “So you see, as long as you are content to be Sapphira there is little harm done, and Belmair’s old laws have not been changed only for you, my love. They have been changed for the public good,” Dillon concluded.

She stared at him, the look one of amazement. “You have the mind of a man born into magic,” Cinnia said slowly. “Were your father and your uncle involved in this, too?”

“And Nidhug, too,” he told her.

Tears filled Cinnia’s eyes. “I have missed my dragon,” she told him.

“And me? Have you missed me, my love?”

“After the first few days I put you from my mind, for there was no hope that I could see. But I never put you from my heart, Dillon,” Cinnia said softly.

“I only took Sapphira to my bed as a means to stop Dreng from insisting I remarry, and give Belmair a new queen,” he told her.

“I cannot come back with you,” Cinnia told him. “Even hiding behind another woman’s name. I took pleasures with the Yafir. And I enjoyed them, my lord.”

“I enjoyed pleasures with Sapphira,” he replied. “It is meant by the Great Creator of us all that we enjoy each other’s bodies, Cinnia. You never knew a man until me. Now you have known two men, and enjoyed them both as they have enjoyed you. You were not unfaithful to me deliberately, nor I to you. I love you, Cinnia. I have never stopped loving you. I loved you so much that I would have given up my throne only to have you back in my arms, my wife.”

Cinnia began to cry. “What if this is a dream, and I awaken? And if it is not a dream, what if he comes after me, and drags me down beneath the sea again, Dillon? I am afraid! I am terribly afraid!” And she sobbed without ceasing.

“It will not happen, my love. It will not happen,” Dillon swore to her.

14

THEY REMAINED TOGETHER upon the beach for some time, Dillon soothing Cinnia and trying to erase her fears. If she was to play the part of Sapphira, she would have to regain a mastery of her emotions again. Cinnia was hard-pressed to believe she was free of Ahura Mazda. “Sapphira did not know you meant to use her in this way, did she?” she said to Dillon, and when he nodded, she continued. “She will tell them who she is, and certainly they will believe her.”

“She will say whatever she will say,” Dillon replied. “She is your mirror image. Why would they believe her? They will think the fall she has had has addled her wits.”

“You have done a cruel thing,” Cinnia told him slowly.

“Aye, it would appear I have,” he agreed, “but you will see in the end, my love, that I have not really been cruel. I never lied to Sapphira. From the beginning I told her that the only wife I wanted was the one I had. That the only queen I wanted was the one I had. I am half Shadow, half faerie, and I do not give my heart lightly.”

“Do not tell me that she believed you, Dillon,” Cinnia said.

“Nay, she did not, but I cannot be blamed for that. I took every opportunity to restate my position. Sapphira is an ambitious woman. She will come to terms quickly with herself when she discovers where she is and who her husband is. She is actually a perfect mate for Ahura Mazda. It is a shame he cannot know so he might thank me,” Dillon finished wickedly.

Cinnia laughed in spite of herself, and then she grew more serious. “Ahura Mazda’s wives are kind women. They will help Sapphira recover from her fright. Now, tell me how we managed to breathe as we made our way up from the bottom of the sea?”

Reaching out, Dillon drew the small clump of seaweed from between her breasts. “Agenor gave it to me,” he said. “They do not have much magic, the Merfolk, but they can enchant seaweed so that those of us not water born may breathe beneath the waves when it is necessary. Agenor said to return it to the sea when it had served its purpose.”

He stood, and walking to the edge of the water, tossed her seaweed and his, which he withdrew from his pocket, back into the sea.

“Poor Sapphira,” Cinnia said sympathetically. “Tonight was my turn to entertain Ahura Mazda, and he is not a man to be denied.”

As Sapphira was now finding out. She had been awakened in a garden by the frantic cries of other women. Her head hurt, and she was terribly thirsty. The women had carried her into a room while she frantically attempted to ascertain where she was. But even as her blurred vision came back into focus she could see the chamber in which they had laid her was luxurious. A woman was bathing her forehead.

“Where am I?” Sapphira said.

“In your chamber, Cinnia. We found you in the garden. You had fallen, and there is a small bump with a cut upon your head. Head wounds always bleed copiously, and look more serious than they actually are. The cut is not deep. ’Twill not even leave a scar. You must have hit your head upon a rock. You need to rest.”

“Who are you?” Sapphira asked, “And why do you call me Cinnia?”

“I am Arlais, and I call you Cinnia because that is your name,” the woman said.

“No, it isn’t. My name is Sapphira, and I am the king’s mistress. Where am I? What is this place?”

“No, you are Cinnia, daughter of Fflergant, and formerly wife to King Dillon of Belmair, but now you are the sixth wife of the Yafir lord, Ahura Mazda,” Arlais said.

A look of great surprise spread over Sapphira’s face. Then she said, “No! I am Sapphira, not Cinnia. You cannot keep me here! I want to go back to the castle!”

“The fall has obviously addled your wits, Cinnia,” Arlais said. “I think you should sleep a little, and attempt to restore them. It is your night to entertain our husband, and he will not be pleased if you cannot fulfill your duties.” Arlais stood up. “I’ll leave you now, Cinnia.”

When the door had shut behind her Sapphira rose quickly from the bed, and as quickly sat down heavily upon it. She let the dizziness subside, and when it finally had she arose once more and began to explore the chamber. Opening the wardrobe she exclaimed with delight at the magnificent silk and velvet gowns inside. A trunk was filled with beautiful hand-embroidered chemises and night garments. An ebony-and-ivory jewel casket upon a table opened to reveal it was filled to overflowing with beautiful jewelry. Fascinated, Sapphira lifted a rather barbaric necklace of rubies and gold from the case, and slipped it about her neck. Picking up the mirror on the table, she viewed herself. The necklace was beautiful, and it suited her.

Closing the jewel casket, she continued to explore the chamber. Everything was elegant and of the best quality. The bed, hung with coral-colored silks that fell from a brass ring centered directly above it, was enormous. It sat upon a dais. There were great tall vases filled with odd flowers that perfumed the room with an exotic fragrance that Sapphira could not identify. There were tables of shining brass, and those of ebony. There were gaily colored pillows of various sizes strewn about. A small hearth burned brightly. Everything bespoke the refuge of a woman well-loved. Sapphira went to the windows, and looked out upon a strange landscape. The light was soft and multihued. She was suddenly exhausted. Pouring herself a small goblet of wine, she drank it, and lay down upon the bed to sleep. This was an odd dream, she decided, and when she awakened she would be in the little sailing boat upon the sea with the king, her lover.

But when Sapphira awoke it was dark. A small lamp burned on a table near the bed, and turning, she found a man lying next to her, studying her. She screamed, frightened. “Who are you?” she asked him in a trembling voice.

“Arlais said your wits were addled, my precious. I am your husband, Ahura Mazda,” he told her.

“The Yafir lord?” Sapphira shrank back. “Do not touch me!”

“Cinnia, are we after a year to go through this again?” he asked her patiently.

“My name is Sapphira!” she insisted.

“No, my darling, your name is Cinnia. Sapphira is the king of Belmair’s mistress. You are Cinnia, his former wife, and now my precious wife. This is my fault, of course. I should have never teased you about the king’s mistress. The blow you took to your head has but brought up old memories, and you are attempting to be Dillon’s mistress if you can no longer be his wife,” Ahura Mazda said. “Forgive me, my darling.”

“I am Sapphira! I am! I am!” she sobbed.

“Nay, Cinnia, you are who I say you are,” he told her, and then he gathered her resisting form into his arms and stroked her dark hair. “You are my beloved wife, Cinnia, and I adore you.” He kissed the top of her head, and then put her gently from him to examine her injury. “The bump is still visible, but the cut is small, and already healing,” Ahura Mazda said, his finger running over her injury carefully. “Can you remember how you fell, my darling? The path near the wall where you were found is particularly rough. I shall see it is smoothed so you do not fall again. I know you keep looking for more garden space in which to grow your herbs and other plants. Shall I arrange for more earth to be fetched and more garden boxes built for you?”

“I do not know what you are talking about,” Sapphira said. “I do not soil my beautiful hands with common muck.”

He took one of her hands up and kissed it. “Your hands, like the rest of you, are always perfection, always beautiful,” he told her.

She had not gazed at him until then. Now stealing a careful look, she saw that all the childhood tales of the evil, ugly Yafir were incorrect. He was a tall, slender man with silvery hair and the most beautiful aquamarine-blue eyes. His handsome face was unlined and ageless. Their eyes locked, and Sapphira felt her lust engaged as she stared at him. Her cherry-red lips parted just slightly and her breathing quickened.