Heir to the Shadows

out the men's skills and their pledged willingness to adapt to the ways of the Shadow Realm. Some had been accepted into service. At each turn of the season, he received brief letters from each of those young men, and all of them expressed their relief and delight in their new life.
    But the pleas were getting more desperate as more and more Terreilleans flooded into Little Terreille. And with every plea, with every story he heard about Terreille, he worried more and more about his youngest granddaughter. Even in his small village incidents had already occurred, and it was no longer wise for a woman to travel after dusk without a strong escort. Was that how it had begun in Terreille, with fear and distrust spiraling deeper and deeper until there was no way to stop it?
    "Your request has been noted," Lord Jorval said, making a gesture that indicated dismissal. "Will the next—"
    The doors at the end of the chamber blew open with a force that sent them crashing into the walls.
    Jaenelle Angelline glided into the Council chamber, once again standing outside the petitioner's circle, once again flanked by the High Lord and Prince Lucivar Yaslana. Along the edges of her black, cobwebby gown's low neckline were dozens of Black Jewel chips glittering with dark fire. Around her neck was a Black—Black?—Jewel set in a necklace that looked like a spider's web made of delicate gold and silver strands. In her hands . . .
    Lord Magstrom's hands shook.
    She held a scepter. The lower half was made of gold and silver and had two Black-looking Jewels inset above the
    hand-hold. The upper half of the scepter was a spiraled
    horn.
    Fingers pointed at the horn. Murmurs filled the chamber. "Lady Angelline, I must protest your interrupting—" Jorval began.
    "I have something to say to this Council," Jaenelle said coldly, her voice carrying over the others. "It will not take long."
    The murmurs grew louder, more forceful. "Why is she allowed to have a unicorn's horn?" the dismissed Terreillean Queen shouted. "I wasn't allowed to have one as compensation for my men being killed."
    There was no expression on the High Lord's face as he looked at the Terreillean Queen. Lucivar, however, didn't try to hide his loathing.
    "Silence." Jaenelle didn't raise her voice, but the undisguised malevolence in it hushed everyone. She looked at the Terreillean Queen and spoke five words.
    Lord Magstrom knew enough of the Old Tongue to recognize the language but not enough to understand. Something about remembering?
    Jaenelle caressed the horn, stroking it from base to tip and back down. "His name was Kaetien," she said in her midnight voice. "This horn was a gift, freely given."
    "Lady Angelline," Jorval said, pounding on the Tribunal's bench as he tried to regain order.
    From the seats closest to the Tribunal's bench, Lord Magstrom heard harsh voices talking about some people who thought they could ignore the authority of the Council. Jaenelle swung the scepter in an arc, holding it for a moment when the horn pointed at the floor before swinging it up until it pointed at the chamber ceiling.
    A cold wind whipped through the chamber. Thunder shook the building. Lightning came down from the ceiling and entered the unicorn's horn.
    Dark power filled the chamber. Unyielding, unforgiving power.
    When the thunder finally stopped, when the wind finally died, the shaking members of the Dark Council climbed back into their seats.
    Jaenelle Angelline stood calmly, quietly, the scepter once again held in both hands. The unicorn's horn was unmarked, but Magstrom could see the flashes of lightning now held within those Black-but-not-Black Jewels, could feel the power waiting to be unleashed.
    "Hear me," Jaenelle said, "because I will say this only once. I have made the Offering to the Darkness. I am now the Queen of Ebon Askavi." She pointed the scepter at the Tribunal's bench.
    Lord Magstrom shook. The horn was pointing straight at him. He held his breath, waiting for the strike. Instead, a rolled parchment tied with a blood-red ribbon appeared in front of him.
    "That is a list of the Territories that yielded to Ebon Askavi. They now stand in the shadow of the Keep. They are mine. Anyone who tries to settle in my Territory without my consent will be dealt with. Anyone who harms any of my people will be executed. There will be no excuses and no exceptions. I will say it simply so that the members of this Council and the intruders who thought to take land they had