The bloodlines that lie within the Harkened and Atari's houses, are far more lethal and passionate than was thought possible. They have been around, the Benijezerate, or Black Widows, have tried repeatedly with out success to bring Witch back to the realms, and the universe.

The Dreamers of the dreams that they have spun are different. They call for the Maudi, the savoir, the one who will deliver them. The widows try to control the bloodlines, try to force the houses to keep them, manipulate them.

The one choice that a single one made, betrayed or liberated them forever…

With in the hot sands of the planet that Saetan, high lord of hell and guardian of the Black Mountain had no longer had interest in who controls it. He finds a thread that he had long ago spun from spider's silk and dipped in his own blood calls to him. The blood of a different sort, one that was taken from him.

Lifting himself out of his chair, he calls in a book that always had the names and places of the blood recorded within its pages, and settle it on a bookstand.

"This will be interesting, it has been some time since that string called," he all but mutters to him self. Flipping to the most recent page that was recorded on, was the name of Leto Atriaties with a rose offering, Paul Muad'dib Atraities with a red offering, and then…

Looking up, he finds himself looking into eyes that have seen war, revolution and peace, each with in the kind that was most destructive. The eyes of his son, Saetan Daemon Sadiablo.

"Father? Why do you look so interested in a planet that you don't even know the name of any more?" Daemon asked the silvered haired guardian before him. He had come down to see if his father would like to have lunch with him and Janelle, but instead he found his father bent over a book and tracing the names of people who wouldn't want him meddling in their affairs.

"Tell me Daemon, have you heard of the spice that flows from Arrakus?"

Daemon scoffed. "Who hasn't? It's the newest drug for the Landons, and they are content to know that we are a myth and don't want a part of us." Looking at his father, Daemon read something there that was not good. "Who has meddled with our family?"

The room started to grow cold. Saetan looked at his reflection, seeing the fire produce steam from the logs. "No one directly. The widows of the Jezerit sect have created another set of beings that they can't control," moving to the side, Saetan motioned to the writing on the page. "Take a look."

Unsure that Daemon wanted to know, he looked at the page. Eyebrows turned up, and a surprise and outrage filled the gaze that was leveled at his father. "They wouldn't do that, would they? Bring a Black jeweled Warlord Prince that has the power of all those that have come before him to a planet like that?"

"They have," a dark look crossed the face of the Black Widow before him. Saetan was not going to like going there, but there was little choice. His family would once again have to clean up a mess that could, should, have been prevented.

"You're planning on going there, aren't you?"

"It's my duty. Our family is forever picking up the messes that the Landons seem to make. He will need to be trained. He has had only what the dessert could give him. It is time to have him fully trained." Saetan called in a green substance that he had purchased some weeks earlier. "Spice. It is what they eat, drink and breathe. To us, it is nothing. To the Landons, it will turn their eyes blue, and become addicted to it."

Daemon looked at his father. "Such wealth can be ascertained with in the confines of the dessert of Dune?"

"Yes. They say that the spice must flow. It is time to take the youngest son and raise him as our own."

"I will make the arrangements. I don't think that the courts going to be left out of this one." Daemon brought a hand to his temple and began to rub it where a headache was certain to form. "Janelle won't like it, that's for sure. She'll want to have some worlds for the Black widow who insisted that they do that."

"She can have them with her today. She is on Harpy Island. Titian is looking after her as we speak." A small smile played across the high lord's face.

"Well then, I'll tell her to take her time."