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ago.”
    Perhaps that was the truth, perhaps not. Lyr was oddly undecided about Rayne’s character. Why had Keelia not spoken of her when she’d sent him so specifically to this house to fetch the crystal dagger? Why had she not told him what awaited him here? Keelia was a most powerful psychic, and a bit more information would’ve been helpful.
    Ah, if only it could be that simple. If only Keelia and others like her could see which steps should be taken to bring victory, and which should be avoided. Instead they all were meant to stumble along and confront whatever surprises were met along the way. It was the way of life, or so he had been told.
    Segyn carried Jiri’s body up the stairs. Once there, he would order Til and Swaine to search for the dagger, and he would assist them.
    Lyr pulled a chair—Jiri’s chair, he assumed by its position—to the center of the room, where he could sit and study the girl who was chained to the wall. While he should join the others in the search, he wasn’t certain it was safe to leave this one alone. She said she possessed no magic, but could he believe her? For all he knew, she was a pretty trap, chained to the wall moments before or immediately after he and his men arrived.
    There was a brilliantly colored flower which grew near his home, the Ksana. This flower was more beautiful than all the others, and drew the eye with its color and the nose with its sweet scent. But the Ksana was poisonous. A momentary touch, and the skin would turn red and blistered, and if one were so foolish as to lay a petal against the tongue, illness, and possibly death, would soon follow.
    As far as he knew, Rayne was like the Ksana flower. Beautiful, sweetly scented, and deadly.
    If his men found the crystal dagger, he would not be obligated to accept her proposition and take her into his protection. If they did not…well, he would address that when and if the time came.
    Rayne yanked against one chain. “Jiri kept the key to my shackles with his belongings.” She pointed, and her chains rattled. “Over there.”
    Lyr nodded his head but did not rise from his chair.
    â€œAren’t you going to release me?” the girl asked, indignation in her sweet voice.
    â€œNot as of yet,” Lyr responded calmly. “I haven’t decided what to do with you, Rayne daughter of Fynnian.”
    Anger flashed in her dark eyes. “I thought you were an honorable man.”
    â€œI am honorable.” He smiled. “But I am not gullible.”
    Again, tears slipped down her cheeks. Lyr studied the tears, unaffected by the display.
    â€œIf you would leave me here, then you are no better than Prince Ciro,” Rayne spat in anger.
    Lyr’s smile died quickly. From all he had learned of Ciro and his plans, she had just uttered the greatest of insults.

2
    T HE JOURNEY TO A RTHES HAD TAKEN LONGER THAN HE ’ D imagined it would, thanks to his maddening traveling companion. Diella was insatiable in every way. She needed comfort, food, sex, and the drug Panwyr, and worse, she talked almost constantly.
    Ciro would’ve strangled her with his bare hands if the Isen Demon had not forbidden it.
    Diella was as yet unaware that she carried a special child within her. The child was the product of the former empress as well as the body she’d taken. It was the babe of the man Ciro had once been and at the same time it was the creation of the Isen Demon, which now ruled Ciro’s body and mind. The child within Diella would not be as powerful or special as the son Ciro and Rayne would make when the time came, but it had a part to play—or so the demon claimed.
    â€œFinally.” Diella’s single word spoke of disgust and impatience as they topped a small hill on the horses which had carried them so far. Ciro knew she would not be satisfied with a single word , not in this or any other situation. “At last the palace is before us. I will