Sanctuary glittered in the dawn as R'shiel and Brak flew over the mountains, sitting proudly atop the ranges where for so long it had remained hidden. Brak watched it draw closer through eyes that watered from the cold wind, feeling as if he had stepped back in time, rather than Sanctuary coming into real time to meet him.
It was almost two hundred years since he had ridden on the back of a dragon towards Sanctuary. The last time it had been to warn Lorandranek that he must hide the settlement or risk the Sisterhood finding it - a mission the Sisters of the Blade had pursued for decades after the First Purge. Lorandranek had conceived the idea of hiding the settlement out of time, a burden that he found trying, but not unbearable. In those days he had shared the task with his nephew, the young Korandellan, and between the two of them, Sanctuary had been able to appear and disappear at will, safe from the Sisterhood, the Karien priests and the odd marauder who stumbled into the mountains trying to escape justice.
But since the madness and death of Lorandranek and the arrival of the demon child, that luxury had been denied them. Sanctuary had stayed hidden as Xaphista grew stronger and more desperate to find his nemesis. Korandellan had carried the burden alone, although why Shananara had not taken up some of the load concerned Brak. She was just as much a té Ortyn as the King, and just as capable as her brother of wielding the power such a feat required. He planned to ask that of the Princess when he saw her. His relationship with Shananara té Ortyn was such that he had no qualms about demanding an answer. They had been lovers once, in a distant past.
Brak glanced across at R'shiel, smiling at her awe-struck expression. She had never seen Sanctuary like this before and it obviously left her breathless. Or perhaps it was the altitude, he thought cynically. R'shiel wasn't impressed by much these days.
Without any prompting from Brak, his dragon began to bank to the right, circling over the slender towers of the Harshini settlement with Dranymire and R'shiel close behind. With surprising gentleness, the dragons beat their massive wings and lowered themselves down onto a high terrace circled by a balustrade that appeared dipped in silver in the soft dawn light. A solitary figure waited for them, dressed in the customary long white robes of the Harshini.
Brak jumped down from the dragon and squinted into the rising sun as the figure approached. As soon as he was clear of the dragon, the meld crumbled and the demons spilled over the terrace, delighted to be home.
“You're a bit late, Brakandaran,” Shananara said, sidestepping demons as she approached. “And you've brought the demon child.”
“Hello, Shananara.”
The Princess glanced over Brak then turned her attention to R'shiel. “You're still alive, I see. Amazing.”
“We felt Sanctuary return.”
“That's hardly surprising. Every god, every sorcerer, every priest and every village charlatan on the continent probably felt it. You'd better come with me. Korandellan wants to see you.” She turned on her heel and walked towards the tall doors that opened off the tower, expecting them to follow.
“What's the matter with her?” R'shiel asked as they followed.
“She's angry.”
“I thought the Harshini couldn't get angry?”
“They can't.”
“She's doing a pretty good imitation.”
Brak shook his head and said nothing. He understood what Shananara was going through. Denied the human outlet of anger or fear or recrimination, she was boiling inside with emotions she did not have the luxury of being able to voice.
They followed the Princess through the halls of Sanctuary, past a subdued and cautious population, to the King's chambers. When they finally reached the broad white doors, Shananara waved them open then looked at R'shiel.
“You must speak with the King. Alone.”
R'shiel glanced at Brak, as if she wanted him to confirm the instruction. He nodded imperceptibly, and he watched as she took a deep breath, visibly bracing herself for what she would find within. He watched her walk through the tall doors, watched Shananara wave them shut behind her.
“What happened?” he asked, as soon as the doors were completely closed.
“Not here,” the Princess replied, with a glance around the empty hall. “Let's go to my chambers.”
He did not try to hide his surprise. This was Sanctuary. There were no secrets here. But he followed her wordlessly down to the next level where she lived. Stepping across the threshold, Brak decided that her rooms had not changed at all since he had last been here. They were still large and airy and filled with the clutter of her many forays into the human world. She closed the doors by hand and stood leaning against them, watching him as he looked around the room.
“Why did you bring her here?”
“R'shiel? She has a plan to save the Harshini,” he said, picking a small statue from the table near the hearth. It was a small horse, exquisitely carved in jade. It looked Fardohnyan.
“If it's anything like her plan to deal with Xaphista, we'd be better off without her help.”
Brak replaced the tiny statue and smiled at her. “Cynicism does not become you, Shananara. Actually, you sound ridiculous. You need a bit of human blood in you to make it really effective.”
“The demon child should thank the gods I don't have any human blood. If you could see Korandellan...”
“How bad is he?”
“Bad enough.” She moved away from the door and walked to the tall open window. The rising sun touched her dark red hair with flecks of gold and lined her perfect Harshini features in crimson. She crossed her arms, as if she was cold, although the temperature in Sanctuary was constant and always pleasant. “He's dying, Brak.”
“How... ?” he asked, too stunned to ask more.
“How do you think? The demon child draws on our power like it has no end. She threatens, she cajoles, she coerces, and she contemplates violence with every breath she takes. Korandellan has been linked to the power without a break since R'shiel was born, and may the gods help me, I taught her to tap into it. Do you know what it's done to him? Can you imagine what it must have been like for him to try to hold Sanctuary out of time while the demon child is on the loose, throwing her anger around without a care for anything or anybody? It has destroyed him.”
“Can't Cheltaran help him?”
“It's the power of the gods that has hurt him, Brak. More of it will simply make him worse.”
“But Cheltaran has helped others in the past who've drawn too much. He did it not so long ago in Greenharbour.”
“Glenanaran and the others drew too much of one strand of the power. Cheltaran could heal them because he was using a part of it they had not touched. Korandellan has been drawing on all of it. If the gods intervened, any one of them could kill him.”
“Then why didn't you help? You could have taken some of the load off him.”
“You think I didn't try? I've begged him, Brak, time and again. But he believed R'shiel would prevail and that she would do it before he faltered. An idle wish, as it turns out.”
“He's not dead yet, Shananara, and the Harshini are still safe. At least until Xaphista's minions can find a way into the mountains. There is time yet.”
“Time for what, Brak? For Korandellan to die? And you know what will happen if he dies, don't you? R'shiel is Lorandranek's daughter. She is the rightful heir.”
Brak stared at the Princess, aghast at the mere suggestion. “You're not seriously considering letting R'shiel take the throne? That's insane! Doesn't Korandellan have a child?”
“There are no children, Brak.”
“Then it must be you.”
“I cannot step forward unless R'shiel refuses the crown.”