Kelson returned her gaze levelly. “It would be best if you left now,” he said quietly. “Our Champion lives, and has defeated yours. Your claim has not been upheld.”

Charissa laughed mirthlessly, then shook her head. “I’m afraid it isn’t that easy, dear boy. If it wasn’t clear, I am rechallenging you to mortal combat here and now—a trial by magic, which is what I wanted from the start, as you’re well aware.” There was an awed murmuring from the assembly behind her. “You can’t avoid it that easily. Your father would have known what I’m talking about.”

Kelson flushed slightly but managed to keep his face impassive. “Our father, through necessity, was more accustomed to killing, Charissa. In that, we will admit, we are not experienced. But there has been enough of killing in the past weeks. We would not willingly add you to that list of the dead.”

“Ah.” Charissa nodded approvingly. “The Son of the Lion is full of bluster, like his sire.” She smiled slowly. “But I think the resemblance ends there, perhaps; that our young prince speaks bolder words than he ought. One might almost believe he had the power to back up his boldness.” Her icy gaze swept him from head to toe and back again. “But of course, we all know that Brion’s power died with him on the field of Candor Rhea.”

Kelson held his ground. “Did it, Charissa? Did it die?”

Charissa shrugged noncommittally. “Did it? You tell me.”

“Are you willing to take the gamble that it did?” Kelson continued shrewdly. “Our father defeated yours and stripped him of his power. It is reasonable to assume that if we hold King Brion’s power, we might hold also the secret of yours. And in that case, you would meet the same fate as your infamous sire.”

“Perhaps—if you hold that power,” Charissa agreed. “But I killed Brion. I think that might just alter the odds, don’t you?”

Jehana could no longer restrain herself.

“No!” she cried, running out into the open space between her son and the Deryni sorceress. “No, you can’t! Not Kelson! Not Kelson, too!”

She paused breathlessly between the two and glared at Charissa, but the sorceress stared back at her for a moment and then laughed, pity on her face.

“Ah, my poor Jehana,” she cooed. “It is far too late for that now, my dear. It became too late many years ago, when you renounced the better part of yourself and settled for being only human. The matter is now out of your hands. Stand aside.”

Jehana drew herself to her full height, smoky green eyes growing darker, glittering with a strange light.

“You shall not destroy my son!” she whispered icily. “Though I journey even to the gates of Hell, you shall not have him, as God is my witness!”