stall had fresh sweet hay within it. One of the boxes was filled with oats, the other with the mixture of green vegetables, carrots and apples that Dasras favored.
“I brought the combs and brushes,” Lara told him, pulling them from her pocket. “I will ask her to groom you, as I saw you had not been attended to in many days before we departed the castle. I will speak with the head groom about that when we return.”
“Then we are returning,” Dasras said. He did not sound pleased.
“This time, aye. Something of import is about to happen, my old friend, and instinct tells me that I need to be in Terah when it does.”
The stallion nodded his head, and then turning, trotted off to his shelter.
Cadi came forth from Lara’s beautiful turquoise-blue silk tent, standing beneath the blue-and-coral-striped awning. “You did not dally, mistress,” she said with a smile.
“Nay, I did not.” She sighed. “I needed to come to Zeroun quickly.” Turning so she might see the entire oasis, she cast a protective spell about it, making her refuge invisible to the human eye. Few ever came this way, but it was foolish to take chances. “I will swim before the prince comes,” she told Cadi, shedding her cloak and her robe. Then, walking to the clear pool, she stepped into it, smiling as the cool water rose up about her. There was something cleansing about this particular pool. Swimming to the little waterfall, she let the flowing waters pour over her head. Swimming back into the pool itself, she was amused to find Kaliq was suddenly there.
He was grinning, obviously pleased with himself, and swam to her.
Lara laughed, filled with happiness. “You always know,” she said.
“I always do,” he agreed, and taking her into his arms, kissed her a long deep kiss.
“Ahh, Kaliq, my love,” Lara said as she broke off their embrace, “the very sight of you makes me joyful, my lord.” She brushed a lock of his dark hair from his forehead.
Catching the hand she used, he brought it to his lips, and kissed the palm softly. “If I make you so happy, Lara, my love, then come and live with me in Shunnar.”
“Soon,” she promised. “I will soon, Kaliq,” Lara told him.
He was surprised by her answer, for she had always insisted her place was in Terah. “What has happened?” he asked, and taking her hand, led her from the water across the soft sand into the tent.
Cadi immediately came forward with soft white robes. She tossed the first one in Lara’s direction, and it immediately enfolded itself about her beautiful mistress. She did the same with the garment she held for Kaliq. “There are refreshments on the table, mistress, master,” she said to them. “Dasras needs my attention if you do not require my services any further.” Then with a smile she hurried from their presence.
Lara flung herself among the multicolored pillows surrounding the low ebony table. Reaching for the decanter of frine she poured them each a goblet, handing her companion one. The brass bowl that always sat upon the table was filled with fresh fruits, and Cadi had added a small plate of tiny, crisp honey cakes. Lara reached for one.
“What is the matter?” Kaliq repeated the question.
“I don’t know,” Lara told him. “But I am filled with a sudden awareness that something of great portent is about to happen. I have not felt like this at all in the last century. I suppose I have grown complacent like an ordinary mortal.”
“Have you sought for an answer?” he asked her. He, too, had been afflicted the same way as she had. Something was changing, and not necessarily for the better.
Lara shook her golden head. “Nay, my thoughts have been too confused, Kaliq. I very much needed to come here to Zeroun to clear my head and contemplate what I must do. Even Ethne has been strangely silent, my lord.” She touched the crystal star pendant that hung about her neck, and it glowed but briefly as her fingers caressed it.
“Your thoughts, I suspect, have been deliberately confounded, and until you realized it, you remained in Terah. Fortunately, you are a strong being, and came to understand that something was not right. Lara, you must not dwell among the mortals any longer. I say this not just for my sake, for our sake, but for yours,” Kaliq said. “You must be clearheaded and strong for what is coming.”
“What is coming?” she asked him.
He shook his dark head, and his blue eyes were concerned. “Even I cannot answer that, my love, but it is past time we began to look again more closely at Hetar’s world. Their inability to learn from their mistakes has been discouraging. Both you and I have avoided looking too closely in recent decades because if these mortals cannot learn from their own errors, what is to become of them? But now I suspect the time is coming for us to involve ourselves with them once more.”
“I seem to have no more influence with either the Terahns or the Hetarians,” Lara told him regretfully. “As the years have passed my appearance has disconcerted them more and more, for they grow old, and I do not. They seem to have lost their belief in magical beings and our world. They have rewritten the history of Hetar to suit themselves. And the New Outlands is no better. Vartan and his faerie wife have been relegated to fiction. And once Noss and my daughter were gone, there was no one who remembered me among them. They think they have always lived in Terah, and as their way of life has changed little over the centuries, who is to nay-say them? It is as if everything we have done was for naught, Kaliq. I have made a grave error in remaining among the mortals. I should have disappeared years ago, appearing only when I was needed. Now I have become little more to them than an oddity. They attempt to ignore me as much as they can for my very presence disturbs them. But, Kaliq, my love, I could not leave while Magnus’s son lived. That small part of me that is mortal would have felt it a betrayal.”
“Yet Taj has been dead lo these four years,” Kaliq said. “You had no real affinity with your grandson, Amren, and even less with your great-grandson, Dominus Cadarn. Yet you remain in Terah. You do not belong in Terah. You belong with me in Shunnar.”
“In Shunnar I do not hear the voices on the wind that I need to hear to know that all is right with our world,” Lara told him. She sipped at her goblet thoughtfully.
“And what have those voices told you of late?” he asked her.
“They are suddenly silent, Kaliq,” Lara answered him. “That is why I have come to Zeroun. To regain my equilibrium, to sharpen my senses. They have grown dull with boredom, and complacent with the unchanging pattern of my life.”
“Something is amiss in the magical worlds,” Kaliq replied. “The winds blow in Shunnar as they have never blown before. There is a chill to them, and my fellow Shadow Princes grow restless of late, for none of us can find answers to all the questions that are whispering about us.”
“It is the darkness,” Lara said suddenly and with perfect clarity, and she shivered.
“Then certainly your son is preparing an assault against the light once more,” Kaliq said, nodding.
Lara no longer denied her maternity where Kolgrim, the Twilight Lord, was concerned. Her mortal children had never known, of course, nor did Marzina. But the son she and Kaliq shared knew of his half brother. Lara was glad that Dillon ruled the kingdom of Belmair, that bright distant star that shone down on the world of Hetar.
She
