Rasnake(31)

Cecil nodded. "Let's go, then. I'm sure by now the entire castle is awake and crammed into the great hall." When they reached the great hall, Cecil's words proved true. The great hall was a cacophony of cheering, shouting, demands for answer, and other, scattered buzzing conversations. On the dais before the fireplace, Irene was attempting to speak. Cecil put his fingers in his mouth and gave a sharp, piercing whistle. When the room fell silent, he said, "Let Her Grace speak."

"Thank you, Rasnake," Irene said. "As you all can see, Milton, Cecil, and Tallant have rescued me and the Dancing Princesses. I am deeply sorry for those who were lost. They will be properly honored. I know everyone must have questions, but for the moment we all need healers and rest. These past many days have been agonizing for all of us. Know that the danger is past, that there will be no more kidnappings. Please, my dear people, take your daughters and tuck them safely into their beds. The rest can wait until morning."

Slowly, reluctantly, after dragging their feet and speaking to her individually, the crowd dispersed. Eventually, it was just the four of them once again. Irene sighed. "I do not know what to tell them. That my father, the man they followed for years, killed three women in a mad attempt to right his wrongs? I do not even know why he tried any of them, when from what Milton has told me, killing me would have fixed the problem."

"He was probably hoping they were of sufficiently strong blood, that he could avoid killing himself or his own daughter. Or, given you said he did not seem to know you, perhaps he could not tell which one was his daughter. "

Irene sighed again. "Another problem to solve in the morning. For now, I am going to sleep in my own bed, after I finally take some sort of damned bath. No one is to bother me until I come out of my room."

"Of course," Cecil replied.

Irene smiled and kissed his cheek. "It's good to see you again, bel. There were days I feared I would die down there in the dark."

Cecil gripped her arm, and she his, fingers wrapping around their matching apple tree tattoos. "I would never have let that happen, bela."

Brother. Sister. Tallant smiled faintly.

"I know," Irene said, then hugged him tightly. "Thank you for bringing my husband to me."

Cecil made a face. "You're welcome to him."

Irene's gaze dropped to the necklace around Cecil's throat. "Yes, I can see you've got better things to do with your time."

Cecil flushed. "Go away!"

Laughing, Irene bid them good night, then dragged a snickering Milton off.

"So do you have a place to bed down, now that you've been ousted from your bed by your brother?" Tallant asked.

Cecil gave him a puzzled look.

"I assumed you slept in her room, to keep up appearances."

"No," Cecil said tersely. "I always sleep here in the hall so that I'm immediately available should something go wrong outside." He gestured, and for the first time, Tallant noticed that bedding had indeed been set up near the fireplace.

Tallant shook his head. "I cannot believe the man most deserving of a bed instead sleeps on the floor."

Cecil scowled. "There's nothing wrong—"

"There isn't," Tallant agreed, cutting in. "You're just too good for your own good. Come sleep in Milton's bed."

"I'm not sleeping in Milton's bed. If a dragon comes—"

"We'll hear the cries just fine," Tallant replied, and wondered if he'd imagined the disappointment that flickered across Cecil's face when he'd said Milton's bed. "How about this, then: come and sleep in Milton's bed, or I'll come out here and sleep on the floor with you."

Cecil glared at him. "You are the most aggravating person I have ever met."

"Many would agree with you," Tallant said. "So what's it going to be, little flik. My room, or your floor?"

Swearing creatively, Cecil stalked off toward Tallant's room.

Smiling, Tallant followed.





Chapter Eleven





Tallant jerked awake, immediately alert—but not at first certain why he was awake. Then he heard the wolves growl again, low but earnest, and Cecil whispering softly to them. "What's wrong?" he asked, swinging his legs over the bed and pulling on his boots in the dark, then reaching for his sword belt and buckling it on.

"I don't know," Cecil replied, clearly going through the same motion to judge by the sounds. "They're distressed, and want me to come."

Standing, Tallant said, "Let's go." He swung his cloak over his shoulders, then followed Cecil and the wolves from the room. The wolves whined, growled, and led them from the castle, across the temporary drawbridge, and into the woods beyond. Outside they were finally able to see, if only barely, by the light of the full moon. They increased their pace, jogging through the woods, only barely able to keep the anxious wolves in sight.

Even in the dark, it did not take Tallant long to realize where they were headed—the obelisk. Why were the wolves … before he could finish forming the question, the answer revealed itself. Tallant stopped as Cecil grabbed him, and realized what Cecil was doing—keeping them safe and hidden in the tree line.

Tallant stared in dismay as Marden carried Irene, clearly unconscious, toward the broken obelisk. He was going to sacrifice her to repair it. Damn it. How the fuck had he escaped? He should have been drugged sufficiently, and they'd sealed him up magically!