Knight of Darkness (23 page)

Blaise stayed with Varian while Merewyn excused
herself to attend to her needs. Honestly, he felt every bit as ill about this as Merewyn did.

Poor bastard. First Varian had been caught between Narishka and Lancelot, then Morgen and Aquila Penmerlin, and now this.

Even though Varian was unconscious, Blaise knew he was in pain. Blaise had only had his powers constricted once, as a boy. Emrys Penmerlin had done it to show him why it was so important to make sure that no one put a binding spell on him.

It was a lesson he’d never forgotten.

Blaise’s powers were nominal compared to Varian’s, which meant Blaise’s experience had been very mild comparatively speaking. When someone as powerful as Varian was bound, it had to be excruciating. The more power that was withheld,
the more pain. And with someone like Varian, it could very easily leave him permanently damaged.

That bit of information Blaise had kept from Merewyn since there was nothing they could do. He figured Varian only had another day or two like this. After that, Varian would most likely never recover. He’d be in a vegetive state forever. Maybe that had been Narishka’s intent from the beginning. She’d probably assumed Varian would strike any bargain with her to keep from degenerating into a zombie.

It only showed how little she knew of her own son.

But the worst part was that, as a comatose zombie, his magick could be funneled and used by someone else. It wouldn’t be as strong as if he were directing it himself. Still, someone like his mother could use it to enhance her own powers. From where Narishka had stood either option had probably been a win for her. Either she got her son on her side or she got a portion of his magick to use for her purposes.

And Blaise had foolishly thought his own mother was callous. Her worst crime had been abandoning him because of his albinism. She’d never actively tried to kill him. Much.

Blaise let out a tired breath. “I know you can hear me, V. I’m sorry we didn’t break the spell in time.” The two of them had talked only yesterday about what would happen in the event of Varian’s
magick revolting. Varian must have known this was coming. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep my word. No harm will come to Merewyn. I’ll protect her for you.”

As expected, there was no response.

Sitting there, he could feel Varian fighting this. He could sense it rippling against his own powers.

He also knew it was hopeless. Not even Varian was that strong. How he wished he’d taken time to get to know the man better before now. Like so many others, he’d allowed Varian to push him away and hadn’t given much thought to the sorcerer who preferred solitude to company.

What Blaise had found over the last few days was a friend he’d learned to value. Varian duFey might have been hellspawned, but he’d grown into something else. And the man didn’t deserve this kind of bullshit.

Blaise felt someone behind him. Turning his head, he saw Beau hovering in the doorway.

“Beau brought water for the master.”

Blaise smiled at the small gargoyle as he moved forward with the bowl. Much of it sloshed out from his jarring gait, but nonetheless, it was a touching sight. “Thanks, Beau. I’m sure Varian appreciates it.”

The gargoyle set the bowl down by the bed. He cast a grieving look at Varian before he turned back to Blaise. “My lady cries, and it makes Beau sad, too. Can the master not tell her not to cry?”

How he wished it were the easy. “No, Beau, he can’t. He’s sick.”

That seemed to make him feel better. “Then Beau will make him well.”

“I’m afraid you can’t.”

But he wasn’t to be deterred. “Yes Beau can. Gargoyle spit is curative.”

“Yes, but not for this. If Varian could be cured by something like gargoyle spit, I could have cured him with my powers.”

“Oh.” Even though he was made of stone, Beau seemed to deflate as a dark sadness settled over him. “My lady loves the master. Every night, she whispers her prayers when she goes to bed, and she always prays for him. She says he needs someone to watch over and care for him. Tell him he must get up. Otherwise, my lady will always cry.”

“I wish I could, Beau, but it’s not that easy.”

“Why is it not easy? Beau doesn’t understand.”

“It just isn’t. It’s like you trying to fly before you had wings.”

Shaking his head, Beau dipped a cloth into the water, but his hands were so large that he couldn’t pick it back up. Blaise stepped forward to get it. He wrung the cloth out, then placed it to Varian’s brow.

That seemed to please the gargoyle. “The master will be better now. The water will repair him, and he will get up so that my lady won’t cry anymore.”

How Blaise wished he had the gargoyle’s
naivete. But he knew better. Varian would most likely die in the coming days, and there was nothing more to be done for him.

Merewyn knelt on the floor of her room with her emotions churning. It was done. Varian would probably hate her from now on, but at least she’d saved his life.

At what cost?

“It doesn’t matter,” she whispered. Because she knew the truth.

She loved him. From the moment he’d picked her up and run with her when anyone else would have left her to her own means, she’d been his.

She only hoped that one day he could forgive her for the bargain she’d just made. Rising to her feet, she left her room solemnly and headed for where he lay unconscious while Beau and Blaise watched over him.

“Lady,” Beau whispered as she entered the room behind them. He indicated the cloth on Varian’s brow. “Beau made the master better for you.”

Tears welled in her eyes at the gargoyle’s kindness. “Thank you, Beau.”

She didn’t look at Blaise as she headed for Varian’s cot. She didn’t dare for fear that she would regret her actions and try to change them.

But this…this was for the best of all involved.

Without a word to Blaise, she reached for Varian’s wrist.

“What are you doing?”

Merewyn couldn’t answer. Instead, she pulled at the bracelet as hard as she could. “
Lyra daludité,
” she whispered, repeating the fey words over and over.
Freedom is only an illusion…

She felt heat suffuse her body. It radiated through her like lava as it surged toward her hands. And just as she was certain her hands would explode from it, the bracelet shattered. Sparks flew into the air, and something forceful knocked her back.

Beau ran to her as Blaise cursed. Merewyn sat up, watching Varian as his eyes slowly fluttered open.

Joy rushed through her. She’d done it.

Varian couldn’t move for several heartbeats as his head swam. He was completely aware of everything, but more than that, he could feel his powers again. They surged through him, radiating every molecule. It felt like lightning skipping through his body.

He felt for the bracelet only to find it gone. How?

Varian glanced at Blaise to see him staring at Merewyn in disbelief. He followed the line of Blaise’s vision to find Merewyn on the floor with a small smile hovering at the corner of her mouth.

“What happened?” Varian asked.

Blaise shook his head. “Hell if I know.”

He waited for Merewyn to respond.

She didn’t. Instead, she opened her mouth as if
she would, but no sound came out. She patted at her throat, then mouthed the words, “I can’t speak.”

Varian frowned at her as he pushed himself up from the cot. “What?”

He didn’t miss the look of “oh shit” on Blaise’s face.

“Do you know what’s going on?” he asked the mandrake.

“Not a clue. But I have a feeling the two of you need to talk.” And before Varian could blink, Blaise was out of the room with Beau right behind him.

A sense of dread went through him as he saw the fear that tainted the joy in Merewyn’s gaze. Ignoring the fact he was naked, he left the cot to kneel on the floor beside her.

“What did you do?”

Tears welled in her eyes as she reached one gentle hand up to touch his lips. She fingered them before her gaze dropped to the scar beside his ear. She trailed her fingers to it and ran them up until her hand was buried in his hair.

“Merewyn?”

She answered him with a tender kiss.

Varian groaned at the taste of her and at the unexpected heat that flooded his body. Every part of him wanted her, but he didn’t dare until he understood what was going on here.

Reluctantly, he pulled back. He tried to use his powers to read her thoughts, but something had
him blocked. She wouldn’t have that ability…

A tremor of betrayal went through him. There was only one person she could have bargained with.

His mother.

“What did you promise her?”

She shook her head in response to his question.

“Merewyn!”

Merewyn wanted to tell him what she’d done, but if she did, the spell would return with one more stipulation. This time it wouldn’t just restrict his powers…

It would kill him.

Terrified of that, she bent her head down and tucked it under his chin as she kept her hand buried in his hair. She only wanted to feel his strength. His comfort. She needed it more than she needed to breathe.

Closing her eyes, she listened to his heart beating. Never had she heard a better sound. His body was back to a normal temperature.

Varian closed his arms around her as he felt her trembling. What had she done? He wanted to be angry, but how could he? Whatever bargain she’d made, she made for his life and powers. Only an absolute cad would condemn her for such a thing.

“It’ll be all right, Merewyn,” he whispered against her hair as he tightened his arms around her.

She pulled back to look up at him and he offered her a gentle smile. “Are you angry?” she mouthed.

He cupped her face in his hands and hoped that the sincerity he felt showed. “No.”

Merewyn wanted to shout in relief. She’d been terrified that he would hate her for her actions. As it was, she only wanted to be closer to him. She pulled his lips to hers so that she could taste the warmth of his mouth. She ran her hands over the bare skin of his back, delighting in the feel of him.

Growling, he pulled her closer to him as he nibbled and teased her lips. Merewyn gave a silent laugh at his eagerness. But the truth was, she wanted him as badly as he wanted her.

She felt him lifting the hem of her skirt so that he could skim his hand along her thigh. Her entire body heated in sweet expectation. But before he could touch her, the door to his room crashed open.

Merewyn pulled back with a gasp to see Merlin and Nimue standing there. Black armor instantly appeared on Varian’s body as he released her.

“What have you done?” Merlin demanded, his eyes blazing red.

Varian knew better than to answer until Merlin explained his anger. “What?”

“Morgen has an army marching across the moat, heading into the valley.”

“What?”

Merlin’s anger was only matched by Nimue’s as she stepped forward. “You heard him. Someone has betrayed us.”

He felt Merewyn stiffen, and suddenly he knew what she’d traded for his life. He placed a comforting hand on her as he kept her behind him, away from the two who would kill her if they ever learned the truth.

“I will deal with her,” Varian said.

“How?”

“She wants me, remember? I’ll take care of it.”

Merlin curled his lip at him. “You damn well better.” The two of them vanished immediately.

Varian stood and turned to help Merewyn to her feet. “Woman, what have you done?”

Anger glared in her eyes.

“It’s all right,” he tried to soothe her. He led her from the room to where Blaise and Beau were waiting. “I’m sending the three of you over to Avalon.”

Blaise arched a brow at that. “What about you?”

“I’ve got something to do.”

Merewyn grabbed his arm and shook her head no.

He covered her hand with his. “I have to. Merlin will kill you if he finds out what you’ve done, and I can’t risk Morgen or my mother capturing you again.” He gently pushed her toward Blaise. “Take her to Merlin and tell her that I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

“And if you don’t make it back?”

“I’ll make it back.”

There was no denying the skepticism in Blaise’s gaze. But Varian didn’t have time for it. Before
anyone else could protest, he shot all of them into the next realm.

And then he laughed as he felt his powers coursing through him. Oh yeah. It was good to him. Good to be a Merlin…

Now he had a bit of a debt to pay.

Leaning his head back, he extended his arms and took a deep breath to channel the elements around him. Elemental power flowed through him like hot wine.

“You can’t face her alone.”

He jerked at the deep, heavily accented voice. Reaching for the hilt of his sword, he spun to find a lean man dressed all in brown leather, who wore a cowl pulled low over his head. He stood with his legs wide apart and his arms folded over his chest. He was dressed as an archer, complete with a quiver of arrows and carved longbow crossed over his back. And over his left shoulder he wore a thin, black leather baldric that held a plain, foot soldier’s sword.

All Varian could see of the stranger’s face was his brown goatee and a bit of chiseled cheek. He had no idea of the man’s features or age, but something about him seemed ancient. Wise.

Formidable.

Which meant he was most likely foe. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m called Faran.”

Varian frowned at the name that in Old English meant traveler. “What are you doing here?”

A deep laugh rolled out from him. “Hiding from Emrys. He’d be rather peeved to find me here in his domain.”

Varian narrowed his gaze as something in the stranger’s voice sounded eerily familiar. “Do I know you?”

“Doubtful. I don’t even know myself most days.”

What a strange individual. But that was neither here nor there. “Look, I don’t—”

“Have time to deal with the likes of me. I know. You’re about to head off to commit suicide. God forbid I should intervene with that, huh?”

Varian scowled at the playful note in the man’s voice. “Who
are
you?”