Jayne Castle [Jayne Ann Krentz] (49 page)

through families. By all the rules I have explored and catalogued, the niece of a Healer related by blood

should have the skill. Stones only know why Kalena was not trained from an early age, but I was getting

desperate. I didn't have time to question my good fortune. Time was running out for me, Fire Whip. The

years have been passing more and more swiftly. A lifetime's work and study was being wasted. I had to

take a chance."

"The Cult of the Eclipse was operated by you. You were the master that Griss kept referring to who

never appeared."

Quintel looked at him. "I was there on the day the two Keys were brought together. I would not have

missed the moment I had waited and planned for all these years. I was one of those who stood in the

glass chamber."

"You stood there with the others and waited for Kalena and I to kill each other." Ridge was distantly

astounded that his temper was so calm. But this was not a time for rage. This was business, the kind of

business he had engaged in before in his career with Quintel. He was good at this kind of thing.

"There was another risk I had to take when I brought you and Kalena together. It was that the two of

you would form bonds that were stronger than the power of the Keys. It was a delicate balancing act I

tried to carry out, you see. The two of you had to be bound together sufficiently to ensure that Kalena

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would go back to the Healers' valley for the Light Key in order to rescue you. Some bonding between

the two of you was also needed to allow both of you to handle the Keys. The mathematics of the

situation are formidable, I assure you. The equation was highly complex and involved emotions as well as

a balance of power. I worked for years on it."

"But you hoped the tie between us would not be so strong that we could resist the urge to kill each other

when the Keys took over, was that it?"

"You are very astute, Fire Whip. If all had gone as planned, the energy that would have been released

from the Dark Key would have been enough to destroy the Light Key." Quintel continued speaking, his

voice sounding oddly hollow and lifeless. "I was certain the Dark would overcome the Light. For a while

all power would have been drained from the Dark Key, and I would have had time to study it, time to

learn how to control it myself. I was meant to be the one who could unlock its secrets and the Secrets of

the Stones." He glanced at the locked chest of ancient books. "Some of those volumes are in the

language of the Dawn Lords. I taught myself to read their tongue to some extent. More importantly, I

was able to decipher their mathematics. Absolutely brilliant. Far beyond anything our own

mathematicians have yet developed. There are books in that chest that exist nowhere else in the world,

Fire Whip. I have the only copies. I have paid dearly for them."

"The price you have paid for some of them was the blood of others, wasn't it, Quintel? I myself helped

you obtain some, didn't I? Although I didn't know it at the time. I've killed for you, Quintel. I thought I

was protecting your precious trade routes when I did it, but there were times when all I was really doing

was paving the way for you to get your hands on another of these dangerous books. I know that now"

Quintel's expression tensed with a violent emotion. Ridge watched him warily. He had never seen the

trade baron in a rage. Quintel had always been the most composed, the most coldly, cynically controlled

of men. But there was something burning in his dark eyes tonight that Ridge had never seen before. It had

nothing to do with composure or control.

"You were born to serve me, Fire Whip, and you have failed me."

"I wasn't born to serve you, Quintel. I realized during the trip back from the Heights of Variance that I

was born to kill you."

"Impossible. You can't do it." Quintel's scorn was heavy.

"I'm the only man who can," Ridge countered softly.

"Even if it were possible, it would mean your death, too, have you forgotten? Your new bride will find

herself all alone in a world that is very hard on a woman alone. Your anger is legendary, Fire Whip, but

you are not equally famous for your brilliant thinking when you are in the grip of that anger, are you?"

"No," Ridge admitted calmly, "but unfortunately for you, I'm not angry tonight. I have thought it all out

and I promise you I have no intention of leaving Kalena to fend for herself. I'm about to become a father,

Quintel. I must build a House that is suitable for the babe and his mother."

"Fool. How do you propose to kill me without dooming yourself as a murderer?"

"I have planned well. Your death will look like an accident. And there is no one in this town or the whole

of the Northern Continent who will call it by any other name. Everyone knows how loyal I am to you. No

one will dream of accusing me of being your murderer." Ridge's fingers tightened around the sintar. "It's

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time to go, Quintel. You and I have a trip to make tonight."

"And if I choose not to go with you?" Quintel's quiet rage was laced with a strange amusement.

"Then I'll knock you out and carry you." Ridge was unconcerned with that end of the matter.

"You think I will go tamely with you, Fire Whip?" Quintel scoffed. "I told you once, you were born to

serve me. Do you want to know something else? I should have
been the one who
had the
power to

control
the steel
of
Countervail. Do you hear me, bastard? It should have been me who could make that

sintar glow fire red. I was meant to control it just as I was meant to control the Key itself!"

The heavy door to the study suddenly burst opened. Startled, Ridge turned to see a woman he did not

know standing on the threshold. Her travel cloak flowed around her as she walked into the chamber and

closed the door. When the flames on the hearth illuminated the crystal green of her eyes, Ridge suddenly

realized who she must be. No one moved in the chamber.

"Begone, Fire Whip," Olara of the House of the Ice Harvest ordered. "He is not yours to kill. This is

Great House business."

Olara of the House of the Ice Harvest had once been a beautiful woman. Her proud bearing, silvered

hair and brilliant eyes would still have been marked as handsome. But years of bitterness and an

unfulfilled longing for revenge had taken their toll on her once serene face. Her gaze went briefly to

Quintel's impassive features, and then she glanced again at Ridge.

"So you are the bastard who seduced my niece and made her forsake her destiny. I saw the threat in

you, Fire Whip, but I was foolish enough to believe I had raised Kalena to be strong enough to resist it."

"It was never Kalena's destiny to kill Quintel," Ridge stated coldly. "Get out, Olara. This is none of your

affair."

Quintel lounged back in his chair as if beginning to find a grim pleasure in the confrontation. "There

would seem to be no lack of would-be assassins surrounding me tonight."

Olara swung her glittering gaze back to his face. "You were the murderer who began this night's work."

"Of what particular murder are you accusing me, woman?"

"You know well what you have done. I am Olara of the House of the Ice Harvest. Once my clan

controlled the trade on the entire Interlock River. But the men of my House stood in your way and you

decided to get rid of them. You destroyed my House, and for that you will die."

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"The House of the Ice Harvest. I seem to have a vague recollection, but . . ." Quintel shrugged, as if it

wasn't worth the effort to try to recall. "I am not easy to kill, Olara of the House of the Ice Harvest. Ask

my Fire Whip."

Ridge kept his fingers on the handle of the sintar as he sought for a way to get rid of Kalena's aunt. "This

is a matter between men," he told her roughly. "I will deal with it."

"There are no men left in my House," Olara told him. "And this is Ice Harvest business. You are nothing

more than a Houseless bastard picked up off the streets and dressed in expensive clothing.
Leave us."

Ridge set his teeth and took a step forward, intending to grab the old woman and throw her out of the

chamber. But before he could touch her, Kalena threw open the door to Quintel's study. Her startled

gaze went from Ridge to her aunt and then back. Ridge's growing frustration and fear for Kalena's safety

began to eat away at the inner control he needed.

"Kalena! Take your aunt and get out of here. Now!"

"No," she whispered softly, her eyes pleading with him. "I don't want you to kill him. He's not worth it."

Quintel laughed. "All this talk of killing is becoming a bore. None of you can touch me. Do you think I

am so vulnerable that I can be killed by an old woman or a street bastard?"

Olara turned on him. "Tonight you will die!"

Quintel's laughter faded abruptly. "No, madam. I think that you will be the one to die tonight. You can

take these two with you when you go to the end of the Spectrum. I have no further need of a bastard and

his whore."

Kalena saw the flames of fury crackle to life in Ridge's eyes. The sight sent a shock of fear through her,

because when she had first entered the chamber, she had seen no emotion at all in Ridge's golden gaze.

He had come here tonight to kill Quintel; she knew that. But there had been no evidence of the red fury

that was beginning to consume him now. Kalena suddenly realized that never on the horrific occasions

when she had seen him kill had there been any sign of the familiar, flaming anger. The sintar he had used

had turned red only with its victims' blood.

With chilling certainty, she understood how Ridge had stayed alive all these years while doing his

dangerous work for the trade baron. Ridge was at his most lethal when he was in total control of his

fierce emotions. She had cracked that control by entering Quintel's forbidden room.

"Kalena, for the last time, go back to the feasting ball. You shouldn't have come here. Get your aunt out

of here."

"She has no duty toward me," Olara said scornfully, not bothering to look at her niece. "She has

foresworn her honor to her House. She is no better than you, bastard. She chose to lie on her back

sweating beneath you rather than die honorably"

Ridge wasn't looking at either woman any longer. His wary gaze was on Quintel, who still sat at his desk

watching his visitors with relentless, predatory hatred.

"I can't leave you alone with him, Ridge," Kalena said softly. "You'll kill him."

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"It must be done," Ridge said roughly. "Leave us!"

Quintel flicked a raging, scornful glance at Kalena. "You see how it is with women, Fire Whip? You can

never control them. Not as long as you let yourself be weakened by them. And you have done just that,

haven't you? The fire in you should have been mine to use, but you tied yourself to this stupid female and

the weapon I had forged was ruined. I should have been the one born with the affinity for fire. By all the

power in the Stones, the gift of the steel should have been mine. Given that talent combined with what I

have learned over the years I could have mastered the Dark Key and destroyed the Light. With the

power of the Dark Key I could have controlled this whole continent. With it I could have unlocked the

Secrets of the Stones. Instead, I was forced to search the streets of Countervail for years to find a flawed

tool that failed me when I put it to the test." Quintel's violent eyes swung to Kalena. "Damn you, trade

whore. This is all
your
fault! You should have paid a thousand times over in the caves. You escaped

then, but I swear you will pay this night!"

"Shut up, Quintel, or I'll slit your throat here and now" The sintar was in Ridge's hand as if by magic. The

tip of the steel blade was already changing color as Ridge's self-control slipped.

"His life is mine to take," Olara proclaimed. She withdrew a large packet from her cloak.

"Ridge! You must stop." Kalena started forward, her arm outstretched to touch him, but she halted as

the first wave of cold struck her. She swung around in horror, searching for the cause of the soul-eating

chill and saw the first tendrils of black mist swirl forth from the ventilation ducts in the wall behind her. As

if attracted to Kalena only, the mist flowed toward her.

"Come any closer, Fire Whip, and she'll die." Quintel hadn't moved from his chair, but his hand rested on

a strange device that had been built into his stone desk. "The mist will kill her. I invented it and I can

control it."

Ridge started toward Kalena as the mist thickened around her. He reached through the black fog,

grasping her arm to pull her free of the heavy darkness. As the light around her began to dim, Kalena saw

the flames in his eyes flare higher. She wondered in panic if the black stuff would have the same effect on

him as it had in the shelter.

She cried out in relief when she felt his hand close around her arm. As soon as he touched her she knew