Sinner. Sara Douglass

remember the way he’d kissed RiverStar this morning; was that boldness, or familiarity?

      Isfrael! Zenith forced her mind as far from WolfStar as she could. Was Isfrael first blood? She supposed he was, for he and RiverStar shared a SunSoar father. But then Isfrael had changed so much since he’d become Mage-King of the Avar that it was as if his SunSoar link was gone.

      Although he still had the blood to satisfy RiverStar, if indeed it were him.

      No, surely not Isfrael. He had only been here since this morning … hadn’t he? When had Isfrael arrived?

      “Oh, for the sweet Stars’ sakes,” Zenith murmured. “RiverStar is probably just making it all up, anyway.”

      She looked down to the far courtyard, her Enchanter vision having no trouble picking out every detail in the thick night shadow. A guard moved from barrack to gate, another checked the doors to the weapons room off the main building.

      A movement. Drago. Zenith sharpened her vision, then smiled gently, her eyes soft. He was feeding scraps of meat to the courtyard cats. Five or six had gathered, mewling about his legs, reaching up to pat his knees with their paws. He laughed, and squatted down to scratch them, their heads butting against his arms and chest affectionately.

      Zenith had never realised he liked cats so much – nor that they so obviously adored him. All the food was gone, but still they stayed, winding about him. Her face softened yet more. Someone besides herself in this great Keep liked the man.

      Drago stood up, extracted himself from the cats, and stepped back inside.

      Zenith watched for a few more minutes, but he did not reappear. She sighed, and moved to the parapets that overlooked the lake, resting her elbows on the wall, her chin in her hands, lost in thought.

      Sigholt was now completely quiet. The dogs were curled in sleep, the guards seemed to have turned to stone at their posts.

      Silence and stillness reigned.

      Zenith felt as if she had been transported to another world. Even the breeze had disappeared.

      Her wings relaxed and drifted over the flagstones behind her. She sank into a greater lethargy, leaning her full weight on the wall, watching the waves ripple across the moonlit Lake of Life.

      Zenith did not notice the tiniest of movements in the air about her, nor catch the enchantment that rippled over the rooftop.

      “I find it not strange that I have discovered you atop Sigholt,” WolfStar said, and she whirled around, her heart pounding.

      He stood relaxed and easy, his wings drooping behind him in the traditional Icarii gesture of goodwill. “For so once StarDrifter found Rivkah, and loved her, and so Axis once found Azhure, and loved her, too. No, do not lift off. Stay and talk to me, Zenith. You have nothing to fear.”

      Then why does my heart race so, Zenith thought, and my breast heave with such fright? She steadied herself, although her eyes flickered about, seeking the reassurance of another person close by.

      There was no-one save her and WolfStar.

       A movement above her, against the Dome.

      Zenith gasped, her eyes involuntarily jerking upwards. There was nothing there save the swirling stars. Nothing.

      “Do you remember, sweet Zenith,” WolfStar said very softly, “when last you saw me? Do you remember that night so long ago?”

       A shadow spiralling down from the roof of the Dome.

      “No,” Zenith whispered, grabbing at the parapets for support. “No! We have never met before this morning!”

      Something was happening. The night air of Sigholt was swirling about her, and every few heartbeats it seemed to solidify until she felt as if she were inside … inside an empty building … a dome.

      “No!”

      “Zenith, do not fear. You are only remembering. Accept.”

      WolfStar walked slowly towards her, and as he did so he lifted his hand in the demanding gesture of seduction that male Enchanters used to will women to their bed.

      “No!” She could not move, and her mind voice seemed to have vanished. She was trapped, trapped … he was too powerful …

      “Yes! Zenith … here … let me remind you.”

      He was close now, gathering her stiff body in his arms, and Zenith struggled uselessly, wondering if he was intent on rape.

       She felt his arms about her, and it was good.

      No, no it wasn’t good! Yet something seemed to have taken possession of her, some part of her mind willed her to cease resisting and let WolfStar slide her to the floor, some part of her was saying … you have bedded with him previously.

      No! She twisted her head away but WolfStar was too powerful for her, both his body and his power were too strong, and she felt his mouth close over hers …

      And something happened. Something broke free, something struggled free within her. Memories, voices, scents, laughter not her own crowded her mind. Faces, experiences, songs she’d never seen or heard before leaped out of hiding. A desire she’d never felt flooded her body. She …

       felt him enter her body, move within her, and she had never believed it could feel this good, had never believed that such intimacy could engender such feeling, and …

      No! No, what was wrong with her? His mouth was on hers, that was all. All? She could not escape it, she could not escape him, she …

       twisted under him, encouraging him with body and voice, willing him on to even greater effort, willing him to merge so completely with her body and soul that they would indeed become one and not just two bodies briefly conjoined in an act designed only for child engendering.

      Zenith tore her mouth from his. “No!” Broke away from him, yet even as she stumbled five or six paces away from him she felt …

       the fire that he had seeded in her womb explode into new life and …

      She screamed and fell to the floor, doubling over, clutching at her belly. Her wings beat futilely behind her, and almost knocked WolfStar over as he leaned down and grabbed her, holding her tightly against him, trying to stifle her sobs.

      “Zenith, your mother was wrong not to tell you this before –”

      “Tell me what?”

      “That you were born to be my lover, Zenith. Meant for no-one else. Why else are you still a virgin at your age? Here I am, Zenith. Accept me. Zenith, you love me … accept me.”

      And the dreadful thing was Zenith could feel that love, could remember the nights she had lain in her lonely bed, wishing he would return to her, crying as the night lightened to dawn and he had not appeared. She could remember years spent loving him, and she could remember months spent watching her belly swell with his child.

      “No!” she shouted once more, and lunged from his arms, using both limbs and wings. Her hip struck the sharp edge of the parapet over the courtyard, and she cried out, her arms flailing. WolfStar lunged for her, but he was too late, and Zenith tumbled over the edge of the roof, gaining control of her wings only within feet of the ground and landing roughly enough to scrape hands and knees.

       Help me! Help me!

      And suddenly, Drago was there.

      “Oh, Stars!” he cried, and fell to his knees, gathering her in his arms. Two guards from the gate had started to run towards them, but Drago waved them back. “A slip! Nothing more!”

      Then, her sobbing face pressed into his chest, he held her tight, rocking her back and forth. “Zenith, what is it? What is it?”

      Zenith clung to her brother, sobbing, letting his