Using magic like a pair of invisible glasses, he searched for any sign of trouble. No trip wires, or bombs. No magical weapons. But then, the tree protected itself, leaking poison whenever something pierced a layer of its bark--poison that could paralyze a person for days.
"All seems to be well," he said.
William flashed to Gillian's side, a saw in hand. "You want syrup, I'll get you syrup."
"That's so nice of you." She offered him a smile, and Puck gnashed his teeth. Really hate him. "But I'm not letting you risk--"
"I will retrieve the syrup for Gillian." Puck snagged the saw and, holding one end, positioned the blade in the center of the tree trunk. "This is my home-realm. I know the ins and outs. You do not."
"I know everything about everything." William latched on to the other end. "And I'm doing this."
They fought over the saw, one pulling left, the other pulling right--until they were actually working together.
"Well, all right, then." Gillian brushed her hands together. "I'll just stand back and enjoy the show."
Puck and William worked for hours. Every time they cut through one layer of bark, another formed, reproducing. Puck never stopped sawing, even when his hands blistered and bled.
When he began to overheat, he discarded his shirt. Or maybe he just wanted Gillian to see the way his muscles bulged from strain, and sinew pulsed.
She fanned her cheeks, as if she was overheated. Winter cheered.
When William removed his shirt, Cameron said, "I'm not gay, but you could change my mind, Willy. Just say the word."
"What about me?" Puck demanded.
Winter's arm shot into the air. "Me! Me! I'd go gay for you."
He cast her a death-glare.
"What?" she said. "Horns aren't my thing."
Whiskey eyes glittering with mirth, Gillian covered her mouth in a failed effort to suppress a laugh.
His heart leaped, the butterfly tattoo moving over his body. He thought he felt the corners of his mouth lift...higher still...
His wife stared at him with something akin to awe--a look he thought he might like to see every day for the rest of his life.
The rest of his life...
For too long, Puck had been a dead man walking, fighting everything he felt, becoming more intimately acquainted with misery.
Want change? Do something different.
He should take a page from Gillian's book, and fight for better. To keep his wife, he didn't have to forget his goals, he realized. He just had to modify them.
29
Taliesin Anwell Kunsgnos Connacht paced the confines of his suite. He'd sent his trio of lovers and guards away. Trust no one. Not even yourself! He'd checked on his fiancee...aye? Or had he let her go?
Can't recall. Afterward he'd--
He sucked in a breath. Had he really done what he thought he'd done?
His mind whirled with suspicions, so many suspicions. He must have done it. He alone had the means.
For centuries, Sin had collected magic. He'd stored every power, potency and ability in boxes, the way the Red Queen had once stored Indifference. The boxes had become batteries--for him.
He'd only used the batteries twice. The first time, to create and power the maze around Connacht lands, protecting his people.
I'm a leader without equal. Why do they despise me?
The second...to create and power a bomb.
That was right! He'd used the bomb against the Sent Ones during one of their ceremonies, destroying their favorite temple, and killing many of their elite soldiers.
Why, why? Oh, yes. To save himself, and his people. Of course his people. This was their home, and the Sent Ones had planned to invade, to annihilate everyone and thing in Amaranthia. The Oracles had warned him.
Or maybe they'd told Sin the Sent Ones would annihilate Amaranthia if he set the bomb? The order of events confused him. But it didn't matter. What was done was done.
He needed to speak with the Oracles again, and decide his next move.
If the Sent Ones thought to retaliate...
He would ensure they couldn't enter Amaranthia.
Now, what to do about Puck? Sin's brother drew closer to the Connacht fortress every second that passed. He could feel the male's presence.
Love him...don't want to hurt him...
But Puck wanted to hurt Sin, to kill him. And now, Puck had a bonded wife. The Dune Raider. Did she love Puck? Maybe, maybe not. But probably. The prophecy...
Can't defeat it. Must defeat it.
Sin should have killed the girl as soon as he learned about her...however many centuries ago. But killing her meant killing Puck. He wasn't ready to end his brother's life. Might not ever be ready.
One or the other. Me or him.
Sin pounded his fists into his temples, then hurled vile curses to the ceiling. For too long he'd been the rope in a terrible game of tug-of-war. Do this. No, that. No, this. So far, nothing he'd done had helped him, his brother or their people. Sin had only caused destruction.
So why did he continue to war with himself? Why not give up and die?
Because! Can't give up. Puck needed him, would always need him. His brother had enemies, and Sin had to help him. Had to kill everyone. If he murdered the citizens of Amaranthia, there would be no one left to hurt Puck. Added bonus: there would be no one left to betray Sin.
And the citizens deserved his rancor. They did! Every day they attempted to steal from him, everything from money, to magic, to children. Nothing was safe anymore.
How many times had the women in his stable attempted to rob him of his seed? How many guards had plotted his downfall? How many enemies had hidden in the shadows, watching him, waiting for the perfect time to strike? Too many to count.
Sin had heard the whispers of his people. Insane. Paranoid. Suspicious.
Pacing, back and forth, back and forth. In this very room, he'd often tended Puck's wounds after battle. Puck the Undefeated, once determined to govern the entire realm with Sin at his side. But one day, Puck would have succumbed to temptation. He would have murdered Sin. Probably in his sleep. A brother's love could not trump a hunger to rule.
&
nbsp; Better to betray than become the betrayed.
Was it?
He needed to speak with Puck. But first, the Oracle.
After loading himself down with swords, daggers and poisons, Sin used magic to bar others from his bedroom and traversed the secret passageways he'd created, going down, down, down to reach the dungeon below the fortress.
"You return at last." The familiar female voice echoed from the bloodstained walls.
Sin stopped in front of the speaker's cage and gripped the bars.
"Hello, Oracle."
She huddled in the far corner, caked in dirt, her cover of mist gone. With her flawless dark skin, hair as blue as a rushing river, and eyes as green as an oasis, she was a beauty unlike any other.
Beautiful, but not so all-knowing. Never saw me coming...
No one ever did. He'd captured the Oracle with ease.
Now a suspicion danced through his mind: What if she had wanted to be captured?
His blood ran cold. He should kill her. Before she could predict a worse fate for him.
No! He needed to know the future--so he could better protect himself against it.
"Has the original prophecy changed?" Sin asked. He'd heard Puck had visited the Oracles centuries ago, and offered his heart. What had been said? No matter how he'd tortured this girl thus far, she'd refused to tell him. "Will I be forced to kill my brother?"
"You know the price for my visions, King Sin."
Greedy wench. No matter. He'd come prepared.
"Of course." He palmed a dagger and shoved the tip into his eye socket. Ignoring the searing pain, he carved until his eyeball popped free.
The Oracle watched, as if dumbfounded.
"Perhaps you can use it to see the world through my eye," he said. Teeth clenched, warm blood pouring down his face, he tossed the macabre offering at the girl's feet.
Despite weeks of starvation, she possessed the grace of a snake as she glided over to heft the eye's slight weight in her palm. "This will make a nice earring. I can see it now--a statement piece for every woman of every realm. Never goes out of style." She laughed, as if she knew a secret he did not. "You'd think that was funny if you knew the terror headed your way."
"Enough! Tell me what I wish to know."
She smiled a white, toothy smile, perhaps the cruelest one he'd ever beheld. "Silly Sin. Perhaps our predictions always come true because perception is reality. Perhaps not. Did the Sent Ones plan to attack you before you struck at them? You'll never know. Would your brother have made a play against you, if you hadn't made a play against him? Again, you'll never know. But you want to learn whether or not the original prophecy has changed due to your actions. Very well. I'll tell you. No. One of you will die at the hand of the other. But now, there is an amendment."