CHAPTER

Forty-six

And the male seed of the Chosen One, upon empowering the Gates of Dawn, shall release a terrible burden upon the world. And those of the blue robes, once thought to be loyal, shall turn against their masters, and attempt to employ the craft for their own service. For it is also written that the powers of the craft, once tasted by the endowed but then forbidden to be savored to their utmost, shall themselves go on to cause the greatest of unsatisfied hungers ever known. And with it, one of the most frightful of all tests the Chosen Ones shall ever undergo.

—PAGE 3007, CHAPTER II OF THE VAGARIES OF THE TOME

It is not only for our personal safety that we ask this thing, Princess,‖ Wigg said solemnly.

His face was a mask of concern. ―It is also for the safety of the Paragon and the Tome, and those who live here in the Redoubt. But most importantly, it is imperative that you, the female of the Chosen Ones, continue to survive. Should Tristan perish, your existence becomes more important than the survival and welfare of anyone else—including Faegan and myself. I realize you don‘t want to hear this, but it now seems virtually certain we shall lose the prince, either to the impending battle, or to the poison running through his veins.‖

Wigg knew his words were hurting Shailiha terribly, but if the strong-willed young woman would accept them from anyone, it would be from him.

Shailiha, rocking a fussy Morganna in her sling, had spent the last two hours in the Archives of the Redoubt, listening to what Wigg and Faegan had to say. Their words had stunned her at first, making her angry.

Above all, they went on to tell her, it was paramount that the prince not be privy to this meeting. Even Celeste, Wigg‘s daughter, was not to be a party to what was discussed here on this so very important of days. For the immediate future, only the three of them in this room were to know what the wizards were trying to convince the princess to do.

Abandon her brother. The brother she loved more than her life, the same man who had risked his life time and time again to return her from the grasp of the Coven.

She simply could not believe her ears.

Wigg and Faegan had reiterated to her how truly desperate their situation was, hoping that she would eventually come to her senses and agree with them. Their powers of the craft were almost gone. Even worse, the Gates of Dawn would by now probably be completed. There seemed to be no way to keep Nicholas from bringing forth the Heretics from the Afterlife.

They had to act now. While Tristan led the Minions to battle, a battle in which he would most probably die, the rest of those living in the Redoubt should leave this place. The wizards insisted on putting as much distance between them and Nicholas‘ hatchlings and carrion scarabs as they could. The sooner the better, they said. In fact they wished to leave tomorrow.

Again and again she protested, telling them that they were all stronger together than they were apart. That they should all make a last stand here, in their home city of Tammerland, no matter the outcome. What had come over these two mystics that would make them want to turn and run away?

Have I been wrong about them all of this time? she wondered, feeling as if her heart were cracking in two. Without their powers, are the wizards craven?

And then her patience finally turned to anger. Anger at the entire world for bringing these awful events upon them, and anger at the wizards for what she saw as their cowardice. She didn‘t want to run—she wanted to stand next to her brother and fight back. She looked up at them both. Her hazel eyes were resolute and defiant.

―I will not go with you,‖ she said, her jaw clenched. ―Even if it means my death, and the death of my daughter. You may run away if you want, to protect your precious art of the craft. And take with you your famous magic stone and your unreadable sacred book, for all I care! For me, all that matters is the fact that Tristan is my brother, and our blood bonds us in a way that even the two of you shall never fully understand. Just as he was willing to go to the far corners of the earth for me, I will now stay with him until the end. And if that means dying by his side, then so be it.‖ She clamped her mouth shut.

Sitting back in his chair, Wigg let out a great sigh. ―I told you she would never agree,‖ he said drily in the direction of Faegan. ―She and her brother were truly cut from the same cloth.‖ The first smile she had seen from him all afternoon finally crept into the corners of his mouth. ―So much like their mother,‖ he added softly.

―So it would seem,‖ Faegan replied.

Reluctantly, Faegan reached into his robes, producing a parchment. He rolled it out flat on the table as Shailiha skeptically watched.

And then he began to talk to her in quiet, measured tones, trying to make her understand. It was to become perhaps the single most important conversation of the princess‘ life.