Heir to the Shadows

your rightful petition."
    "Bastards," Lucivar snarled as they walked toward the landing web.
    Saetan slipped an arm around Jaenelle's shoulders. Lucivar's open anger didn't worry him. Jaenelle's silent withdrawal did.
    "Don't fret about it, Cat," Lucivar continued. "We'll find a way around those bastards and keep the kindred protected."~
    "I'm not sure there is a legitimate way around the Council's decision," Saetan said carefully.
    "And you've never stepped outside the Law? You've never overruled a bad decision by using strength and temper?"
    Saetan clenched his teeth. In trying to explain why the family had difficulties with the Dark Council, someone must have told Lucivar why the Council made him Jaenelle's guardian. "No, I'm not saying that."
    "Are you saying kindred aren't important enough to fight for because they're animals?"
    Saetan stopped walking. Jaenelle drifted a little farther down the flagstone walk, away from them.
    "No, I'm not saying that, either," Saetan replied, struggling to keep his voice down. "We have to find an answer that fits the Council's new rules or this will escalate into a war that tears the Realm apart."
    "So we sacrifice the nonhuman Blood to save Kaeleer?" Smiling bitterly^ Lucivar opened his wings. "What am I, High Lord? By the Council's reckoning of who is human and who is not, what am I?"
    Saetan took a step back. It could have been Andulvar standing there. It had been Andulvar standing there all those years ago. When honor and the Law no longer stand on the same side of the line, how do we choose, SaDiablo?
    Saetan rubbed his hands over his face. Ah, Hekatah, you spin your schemes well. Just like the last time. "We'll find a legitimate way to protect the kindred and their land."
    "You said there wasn't a legitimate way."
    "Yes, there is," Jaenelle said softly as she joined them. She leaned against Saetan. "Yes, there is."
    Alarmed by how pale she looked, Saetan held her against him, stroking her hair as he probed gently. Nothing physically wrong except the fatigue brought on by overwork and the emotional stress of tallying the kindred deaths. "Witch-child?"
    Jaenelle shuddered. "I never wanted this. But it's the only way to help them."
    "What's the only way, witch-child?" Saetan crooned.
    Trembling, she stepped away from him. The haunted look in her eyes would stay with him forever.
    "I'm going to make the Offering to the Darkness and set up my court."
    CHAPTER SIXTEEN
    1 / Kaeleer
    Banard sat in the private showroom at the back of his shop, sipping tea while he waited for 'the Lady.
    He was a gifted craftsman, an artist who worked with precious metals, precious and semiprecious stones, and the Blood Jewels. A Blood male who wore no Jewel himself, he handled them with a delicacy and respect that made him a favorite with the Jeweled Blood in Amdarh. He always said, "I handle a Jewel as if I were handling someone's heart," and he meant it.
    Among his clients were the Queen of Amdarh and her Consort, Prince Mephis SaDiablo, Prince Lucivar Yaslana, the High Lord and, his favorite, Lady Jaenelle Angelline.
    Which was why he was sitting here long after the shops had closed for the day. As he'd told his wife, when the Lady asked for a favor, why, that was almost like serving her, wasn't it?
    He nearly spilled his tea when he looked up from his musings and saw the shadowy figure standing in the doorway of the private showroom. His shop had strong guard spells and protection spells—gifts from his darker-Jeweled clients. No one should have been able to get this far without triggering the alarms.
    "My apologies, Banard," said the feminine, midnight voice. "I didn't mean to startle you."
    "Not at all, Lady," Banard lied as he increased the illumination of the candlelights around the velvet-covered display table. "My mind was wandering." He turned to smile at her, but when he saw what she held in her hands, he broke out in a cold sweat.
    "There's something I'd like you to make for me, if you can," Jaenelle said, stepping into the small room.
    Banard gulped. She had changed since he'd last seen her a few months ago. It was more than the Widow's weeds she was wearing. It was as if the fire that had always burned within her was now closer to the surface, illuminating and shadowing. He could feel the dark power swirling around her—brutal strength offset by a worrisome fragility.
    "This is what I'd like you to make," Jaenelle said.
    A piece of paper appeared on the display table.
    Banard