He took Kelson’s arm and led him back up the sanctuary steps to where his archbishops waited, stunned and frightened by what they had seen. As the cheering died down, Nigel stepped forward with the royal state cloak and proudly set it back in place around the young king’s shoulders, elation apparent in every line of his body. And Jehana, released from her spell with the death of the Shadowed One, sat up weakly from where she had slept, and stared uncomprehendingly at her son.

Kelson saw her look and pulled away from those who were gathering at the foot of the altar to conclude the coronation. Gliding easily across the chancel, he came to a hesitant stop before his mother, then sank to one knee at her feet.

“You risked much for me,” he whispered tentatively, half afraid to reach out to her. “Can you forgive me for going against your wishes?”

With a sob, Jehana seized his hand and cradled it to her breast, held it to her lips. “Please don’t ask me that now,” she whispered, tears wetting his hand as she held it. “Only let me be glad that you’re alive.”

Kelson squeezed her hand, blinking back his own tears, then pulled away and got to his feet. He smiled down at her as he backed off a few paces, bowed, then turned and went back to those waiting for him at the altar.

As Kelson knelt on the altar steps once more, everyone but the archbishops and bishops drew back and knelt, as well. Then Archbishop Corrigan, Archbishop Loris, and Bishop Arilan elevated the jeweled crown of Gwynedd, Loris reciting the ancient formula of coronation as they did so.

“Bless, we beseech Thee, O Lord, this crown. And so sanctify Thy servant, Kelson, upon whose head Thou dost place it today as a sign of royal majesty. Grant that he may, by Thy grace, be filled with all princely virtues. Through the King Eternal, Our Lord, Who lives and reigns with Thee in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God forever, Amen.”

This is what the people saw and heard.

But those of Deryni blood beheld a somewhat different sight. For to their eyes, a fourth figure seemed to support the crown above Kelson’s head—a tall, silver-blond man garbed in the golden raiment of the ancient High Deryni Lords. And to those of Deryni blood, he spoke rather a different message superimposed over the traditional coronation formula: an ancient Deryni formula, which bespoke quite an additional destiny for the brave young king he crowned.

“Kelson Cinhil Rhys Anthony Haldane, I crown thee in the Name of the Almighty One, Who knows all, and in the name of him who was long the Defender of Humankind. Kelson Haldane, thou art King for Human and Deryni. Life and Prosperity to thee, King of Gwynedd!”