Chapters (46)
- Welcome
- Dedication
- Map
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-one
- Chapter Twenty-two
- Chapter Twenty-three
- Chapter Twenty-four
- Chapter Twenty-five
- Chapter Twenty-six
- Chapter Twenty-seven
- Chapter Twenty-eight
- Chapter Twenty-nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-one
- Chapter Thirty-two
- Chapter Thirty-three
- Chapter Thirty-four
- Chapter Thirty-five
- Chapter Thirty-six
- Chapter Thirty-seven
- Chapter Thirty-eight
- Chapter Thirty-nine
- Acknowledgements
- Books by Karen Miller
- Copyright
- Front Cover Image
“Are you mad?” he demanded. “Our mageworking is all that stands between Dorana and its destruction at the hands of these lesser nations. Great working or not, Dorana will heal itself soon enough. But even if it healed itself tomorrow, it would be too late. You know what the Feenish say about unseeing the seen. We have never appeared weak before… but thanks to the General Council, we appear weak now. And every potentate and princeling, every merchant, every peddler, will look at us differently until they are given a reason not to. Until they are reminded of their proper place in the world.”
He was right, of course he was right, only…
“My love, I’m not certain they’ll be reminded by transmuted chickens and hounds and calves.”
Rage was smouldering in his eyes. “They will have far more to fear than that, Barl.”
In the silvering moonlight his naked body was beautiful. But for once it didn’t stir her. Fear smothered desire.
“I don’t—Morgan, what do you mean?”
“I mean to save Dorana. I’ll need the attic to myself for a few days.”
To himself? “Morgan—”
“When I’m ready, I’ll show you what I’m working toward. In the meantime, you’ll have the library. There are books you’ve not yet read.”
That was true. There were dozens. But since they’d found each other, Morgan had laid his heart and soul bare to her. He’d wept in her arms and shuddered his pleasure there, with abandon. She knew him better than any man alive, better even than Remmie, and Remmie was her other self.
Why then do I look at him now and see a stranger?
“Barl…” Morgan smiled, but the rage in his eyes still smouldered. “Please. Don’t be cross. This is nothing nefarious. I just need… a little time. I need you to trust me.”
He was Morgan, her beloved. She had no reason to fear. She was being foolish. Girlish. She knew better than that. Morgan deserved better.
“Of course,” she said. “Morgan, of course.”
He leapt to the bed, laughing… and the stranger disappeared.
Venette drove her buggy to Brice’s town house, to tell him of the previous night’s meeting with Morgan before going on to the College to spend another miserable day working with Bellamie Ranowen.