Dragon Prince 03 - Sunrunner's Fire Read Free Page A

sentence in any language. More than one of us here tonight has succumbed to it.”
    She shifted uneasily. “Including you,” she pointed out.
    “Of course.” And you, my Sunrunner witch of a High Princess, his eyes said.
    Turning to Maarken, she asked, “Well? What’s it like for you?”
    “Just as Hollis described it. Dizziness, and spreading warmth. . . .” He looked startled, then smiled slightly. “And the most amazing need to be alone with my wife—and not just because we’re so short a time married.”
    Hollis blushed in the dimness. “That will pass,” she told him.
    “Goddess, I hope not!” But his laugh was strained. “This is the damnedest feeling! Like I could use my thoughts to change the tides!”
    “Don’t try it,” Sioned warned. “Maarken, be careful.”
    “I’m not saying I want to. I just feel as if I could.” He rubbed one hand over his face; the other was immobilized in layers of bandages, wrist broken in his battle against the pretender. “So this is what it’s like to be a sorcerer.”
    “Partly, I suppose. But you haven’t the gift for it.” She glanced at Riyan, who did. “Don’t you go getting any ideas.”
    “Not if the moons fell out of the sky.” The young man eyed the empty wine cup warily, his right hand worrying at the rings on his left. Then he shook himself and looked across the carpet at Ostvel. “Father . . . I’m glad I got to see Mother tonight. I didn’t know she was so beautiful.”
    Ostvel stared down at his hands. “Her face and her spirit.”
    Chay’s eyes were fixed on his eldest son and heir, dark brows shading his gray eyes nearly black. When the young man’s gaze lost focus and he turned pale, Chay demanded, “Maarken—what is it? Tell me!”
    Rohan gripped Maarken’s elbow. “What are you watching?”
    He gave a start at the touch, gulping in a great lungful of air. “I—I think somebody’s watching us! ”
    Riyan held both hands out before him. They were trembling. His eyes—Camigwen’s eyes, dark velvet brown with bronze glints—were glazed with pain. “My rings,” he whispered, staring at Maarken. “Just like when you were fighting Masul and sorcery was used—”
    Ostvel jumped to his feet and hauled his son up. They stumbled toward the silent fountain, where Ostvel plunged Riyan’s hands into the shallow pool of brackish water. Maarken was gasping for breath, supported by Rohan and Hollis. Sioned wove moonlight with desperate speed, but could sense nothing and no one along it.
    Then she looked straight up at the stars.
    Beautiful, aren’t they? a voice said in her mind, rich with mocking laughter. And you know how to use them, High Princess. Why not use them now to find me? You’ve already made an excellent start by drinking that wine. You’re beginning to understand power—the kind your son will have once he’s grown. Oh, yes, we know all about him, your Sunrunner child who also has the Old Blood flowing through his veins. Someday I’ll figure out whether he got it from you or his princely father.
    Wh-who are you? Sioned didn’t dare think. She drew into herself, knowing that to accept the invitation and weave starlight was to court disaster.
    Who? You’ll have to wait some years before you find that out. Or perhaps you meant “what.” That’s something you know very well, Sunrunner.
    What do you want?
    I’ll let you puzzle that one out too for some little while. We’re not quite ready yet, you see. Masul was an interesting beginning, but only a feint. The real battle is before you, High Princess. Do you think you’re up to it? Do you honestly think you can prevail against the ones you call sorcerers?
    And the last thing she heard was gleeful laughter on a breath of starlit wind.
     
     
    Morning sunlight spilled across the floor as Ostvel gratefully accepted a winecup from Alasen, who settled uneasily on a chair near him. “Can you tell me about it now?”
    “As much as I know.” He took a long swallow and