Sinner. Sara Douglass

of taxes.”

      The evening meal, held with due pomp in the Great Hall of Sigholt, was the longest Zared had ever endured in his life. All the heads of the Five were there, as were their captains, their lieutenants, Caelum’s brother and sisters, DareWing FullHeart and the other Crest-Leaders of the Strike Force, the mayor and entire council of Lakesview, their wives, as well as WingRidge CurlClaw, SpikeFeather TrueSong and fifteen assorted Enchanters.

      Leagh … Leagh was seated not only across the broad banquet table, but seven places down! Zared had not the chance to speak one word to her, let alone touch her, hold her.

      If the decision on their marriage was to be discussed – and then determined – in Council, then Zared knew what that decision would be. Damn Caelum – and every other member of the Council – to everlasting crippling arthritis for what they were going to do to him and Leagh! Did they not bed as they chose? Had not every one of them picked their own mate … save Caelum, of course, who yet lingered unmarried.

      Zared went through the meal in a state resembling an angry fugue, replying only in monosyllables when he was addressed, pushing his meat about his plate until it went cold and congealed in its gravy, then tapping his fingers irritably against the linen-clothed table until Caelum finally rose and departed.

      As the rest of the company scraped back chairs and got to their feet, Zared managed to catch Leagh’s eye, but no more. Askam placed a tight hand about her elbow and whisked her away before Zared could slip about the table to speak to her.

      He stood, fuming with silent rage, as Herme paused behind him.

      “Think how marriage to her would cement your claim to the throne, my prince,” he whispered. “Askam will never sire an heir. She would bring Achar to your marriage bed.”

      Zared turned to stare at Herme, a muscle working in his cheek. “I want her as my wife because I love her!” he finally seethed. “Not for her inheritance!”

      He pushed past the Earl of Avonsdale and strode away, but all he could think about on the long walk back to his chambers was whether or not, on that night atop Sigholt five years ago, his unspeaking mind had only seen Leagh standing before him … or the rich acres of the West as well.

      Zenith was preparing for sleep when the gentle knock came at her door. Surprised, not knowing who could wish to speak with her this late, she slipped a wrap over her shoulders and opened the door.

      Zared stood there, his face lined and tired, his eyes dark with unreadable emotion. “Zenith, you and I have always understood each other. Please, bring Leagh to me.”

      Zenith stared at him, her mind in turmoil. By the gods, how she felt for both of them! Surely they deserved at least a private word – but, if left in private, how far might that “word” go? Their love was fraught with so much political tension, it carried such enormous consequences, that to even let them see each other …

      Should she tell him that Caelum would not let the marriage take place? That there was no hope? No, there was no need. She could see by the pain in Zared’s eyes that he already understood.

      “Zenith,” he said, reaching out and placing a hand on her arm. “Do this for me, and do it for Leagh.”

      Zenith hesitated only a heartbeat longer, then she gave a curt nod. “Come with me.”

      The corridors were darkened, only a few subdued torches lit to cast pitiful pools of light in isolated corners. Shadows flickered and lifted, seeming to envelop them in waves and then retreat, as if they had moved too far from the total darkness for their own comfort. Zenith led Zared to a room on the floor above his, at the end of the corridor.

      He stopped, surprised. “This was my mother’s chamber!”

      “And so here came Magariz to Rivkah, before they confessed their love to the world. Now, Zared, listen to me. I will wait outside. Keeping watch – but not only for those who might tread this way. I can also sense you, and what you do … do you understand?”

      Zared nodded, his expression bitter.

      “If you try to bed with her,” Zenith continued, her tone now as hard as Zared’s eyes, “I will know and I will stop you. You may speak with her, you may hold her, but you will not have the chance to win the West via the trickery of an illegitimate child!”

      “Caelum has an utterly loyal sister in you!” Zared hissed, furious that Zenith would intrude upon them with her power.

      “I am utterly loyal to Tencendor,” Zenith said quietly, holding Zared’s stare. “Treat Leagh with the respect that I have for the peace of our land.”

      “Let me in, damn you!”

      And Zenith opened the door.

      The chamber was even darker than the corridor, for Leagh had apparently shuttered her windows tightly closed. Zared stood, trying to get his bearings, wondering if Leagh had heard his whispered conversation with Zenith.

      Apparently not, for the room was quiet save for the soft sound of gentle breathing, and Zared moved carefully towards the source.

      His hip banged into the corner of a table, and Zared halted, his eyes stinging with the pain, his ears straining to hear if Leagh had woken.

      No, she still breathed deep in sleep across the room, and Zared resumed his movement, now with a slight limp. He’d never wished Enchanter powers for himself until this moment. By all the stars above, he wished he could see where he was going!

      But even as he thought that, a pale bed cover resolved itself from the darkness, and under it Zared could see the still form of Leagh.

      He moved closer – how could he best wake her without startling her into a loud cry? It would hardly do his cause good to have Caelum – or Askam, gods forbid! – burst in on them.

      But even as he hesitatingly reached down a hand, Leagh sighed, turned her head, and opened her eyes.

      “Am I dreaming,” she whispered, “or do you truly stand before me, Zared?”

      “Oh, gods, Leagh!” he cried softly, brokenly, and he sat down on the bed and gathered her into his arms.

      Outside, Zenith tensed, but she gradually relaxed, tears coming to her eyes. What would it be like to love like this? To be loved this deeply? She withdrew her presence a little from the chamber to give them more privacy, although she still maintained watch. They could spend the hours before dawn together, but then she would interrupt, and take Zared from Leagh.

      The tears trickled down her cheeks. This was likely to be the only time they would ever have together.

      Then, without warning, a sense of doom so profound it left her gasping washed over her.

      Zenith groaned and bent almost double, clutching at the wall for support.

      What was wrong, what had disturbed her this deeply? Zared and Leagh? No, they were close, but not too close. It was something else. Something … something so fundamentally wrong that the very Star Dance seemed to waver before it beat on as strong as ever.

      The sensation of imminent doom faded almost as soon as it had washed through her, but it left Zenith with a feeling of such fright that she spent the rest of that night crouched outside Leagh’s door, wrapped in enchantment so thick that a spear would have bounced off an arm’s distance away before it could have touched her.

      Zared, Leagh and Zenith were not the only wakeful ones that night. Caelum also paced the corridors, returning to his own chambers from whatever nocturnal mission he’d set himself to.

      He also felt the sudden alteration in the Star Dance, but Caelum was of infinitely more power than Zenith, and he knew that it had been caused by the sudden intrusion of a powerful Enchanter somewhere in Tencendor.

      There was someone different about. Who?

       Who?

      Caelum stood in the centre of his chamber, seeking,