if I never find the one for me, Grandmother?” Marzina asked her.
Ilona shrugged. “It does not matter if you do or not, child. A companion to take pleasures with is very nice. Love, however, complicates things, Marzina. Each of you must be totally unselfish, must be willing to sacrifice yourself for the other. I don’t think I could have ever done it. I am selfish, and make no apologies for it. And I need no male of any species to succeed in life. No female should. Your mother and Kaliq are unique creatures. The love they share will do great things, Marzina. Do not be jealous of it. And better to be happily free than to be unhappily bound in a relationship you don’t want or need, my child. You must continue to be an independent creature. Males are for pleasures, or if you want a child. There is no other need for them.”
“I don’t think I want children,” Marzina said. “You have to invest too much of yourself in your offspring. Like you, Grandmother, I am selfish.”
Ilona reached out and stroked her granddaughter’s silken head. “You are faerie, my darling child. Pure faerie.”
Aye, she was pure faerie, but she shouldn’t be, Marzina thought. Not with a mortal for a father. But perhaps, as neither her twin brother, Taj, nor her sisters Anoush and Zagiri had magic, it was Marzina alone who had inherited their faerie mother’s magic. They were long gone, of course. Sometimes it was as if they had never existed at all, Marzina considered, feeling a prick of sadness. Of course her big brother, Dillon, the king of Belmair, was all magic having had Kaliq for a father. And he lived.
Kaliq. How she had lusted after him, and if the truth be known, she still did. In her vivid imagination none of her lovers, mortal or faerie, could equal Kaliq. But he had made it very clear he wanted nothing from her, not even a single evening of pleasures. How it had wounded her pride to have him refuse her. He had done it gently at her first approach, but she had persisted, Marzina recalled, flushing angrily at the painful memory, until finally taking her by the hand he had brought her to a group of his brothers, saying, “This bitch is in heat. Cool her unseemly ardor.”
What had followed had been a night such as Marzina had never known before or since. The Shadow Princes came by their reputation as magnificent lovers honestly. She experienced pleasures heretofore unknown to her, and her lust had been eased. But having tasted such passions Marzina had never stopped wondering about what pleasures with Kaliq would have been like. She never knew who told her mother of her attempted seduction of Prince Kaliq, but Lara had sought her daughter in the forests of Hetar and excoriated her cruelly for her behavior.
“It is bad enough you would betray me, my daughter, but to embarrass Kaliq, who had been so good to you is unforgivable!”
“’Twas he who approached me,” Marzina lied. She was frightened by the way her mother was looking at her.
Liar! Do you think I do not know Kaliq, Marzina, that I would believe that ridiculous falsehood? Did you learn nothing from me? From your father? Magnus Hauk was the most honorable of mortals. When did I ever behave so disgracefully? You ought be ashamed of yourself, my daughter. Lara’s words spoken in the silent language of magic were far more stinging than if she had voiced them aloud.
But something in Marzina would not let her apologize to her mother. Instead she glared haughtily at Lara and said, “You may think what you will, Mother. I know the truth of what happened.” Why could she not admit her fault and ask her mother’s forgiveness, Marzina wondered to herself. But she could not.
She could still see the look of anger and disdain in Kaliq’s bright blue eyes when he turned her over to those half-dozen Shadow Princes. Not that she hadn’t enjoyed herself with them, but it would have been better if he had beaten her and banned her from Shunnar. As it was, she hadn’t been back since. And she envied Lara Kaliq’s love and devotion. What they had together went beyond mere magic.
“How long has it been since you have seen your mother?” Ilona said, breaking into the girl’s thoughts.
Marzina shrugged. “A few years, Grandmother. Taj’s Farewell Ceremony. I could hardly believe that old man on the bier was my twin brother. Still he remained a handsome man like our father.”
“Go and see your mother, child,” Ilona told her granddaughter. “That pride of yours will be your downfall. Tell her you are sorry. Lara’s heart is generous, and she will forgive you, Marzina. She loves you.”
“Kaliq will never trust me again, I fear,” Marzina said. “And I must admit to you, Grandmother, that I still find him attractive, and intriguing.”
“Have you accepted the fact that he will never be yours, child?” Ilona asked.
Marzina nodded, and there was no guile in her now. “I know he is Mother’s,” she admitted with a dramatic sigh of regret.
Ilona laughed. “It is always difficult losing your heart to someone who loves another. But you are young, and you will survive. Now go and see Lara.”
“I will think about it,” Marzina said. Then she disappeared before her grandmother’s faerie green eyes, leaving her mother-of-pearl comb behind upon the velvety deep green moss.
Ilona shook her silvery-gold hair impatiently. The breach had to be healed between her daughter and her granddaughter. Something was about to happen, to change. She sensed it. Her faerie subjects felt it. The forest felt it. She had met recently with her counterparts in the faerie world. King Annan of the Water Faeries; King Laszlo of the Mountain Faeries; and Gwener, Empress of the Meadow Faeries. They, too, anticipated something momentous coming. But no one could imagine what it was. “Humph!” Ilona said aloud and, snapping her fingers, appeared before her daughter and Kaliq, who were sitting in Shunnar’s main garden in the twilight.
Seeing the purple smoke that always presaged her mother’s arrival, Lara quickly arose. “Mother! How nice to see you,” she greeted her parent.
“You have to make peace with Marzina,” Ilona said bluntly.
“Good evening, Ilona. Please sit and join us,” Kaliq said, assisting the faerie queen to a comfortable chair. Taking a cup of berry frine from the air, he handed it to her.
“Kaliq,” she purred at him. “You are always so welcoming. Now tell Lara she must heal this breach with Marzina.” She sipped from her silver cup.
“Lara makes her own decisions, Ilona, and you well know it. What has Marzina done now that you are insisting she and her mother be reunited,” Kaliq asked candidly.
“Marzina has done nothing for once,” Ilona said. “It is just that I feel something is about to happen. Something of import. Something that will require us all to be united. Given Marzina’s paternity I want her to remain on the side of the light,” Ilona told them.
“So you sense it, too,” Kaliq said quietly.
“We all sense it, in the meadow, in the mountains, in the water,” Ilona told him. “The feeling is palpable, though we know not what it is.”
“It is Kolgrim,” Lara replied. “He intends to take a bride and sire an heir.”
“What!” Ilona was surprised. “I thought he was to do that on the Darkling, his half sister, Ciarda.”
“He tried for three mating cycles, but she failed him. He killed her, Mother,” Lara said. Then she explained the murders Kolgrim had committed afterward.
Ilona was horrified. “He surpasses his father in evil,” she remarked. “But who is this bride he means to take? And when?”
“We know nothing now, Mother. We are seeking to learn what we can. One of the Shadow Princes listened for several months but could learn nothing other than what we already knew,” Lara told her parent. “Kaliq and I must go to the Dark Lands ourselves if we are to find out who the unfortunate girl is. We will attempt to prevent the marriage, of course. The longer we can keep Kolgrim from marrying the better.”
Ilona nodded. “Of course,” she said. “You must prevent your dark son from taking a wife and siring an heir. But first