…

They were soaring. Zachary's laugh sounded half-crazed as it was whipped away by the wind. Snorting and grunting, Night Hawk thundered over another rise, his hooves throwing up a rainstorm of dirt and grass in his wake. Faster – faster, now. Obediently, Night Hawk responded to each of the king's demands, his powerful legs stretching to their limit, his sleek muscles rolling with each hoof fall.

Everything around them was one long smudge. With the wind hammering his face, Zachary could barely breathe. His head was reeling. His hands were white as they clutched the reins. He was barely keeping his seat.

It was exhilarating.

Another laugh bubbled out of him. Faster, he thought. Faster. His heels dug in—again, faster.

They shot through a small grouping of trees and erupted onto sand. Night Hawk slipped on the new terrain and almost went down. Zachary knew a fleeting moment of astonishment as his feet lifted out of the stirrups. He was falling. His breath whooshed out of his lungs –

"If there was one person with whom you could share…just one…who could understand…"

She had said that…. How strange it was of her to say something like that…. Potts's punch had left him lying in the dirt. She leaned over him, dabbing his throbbing cheekbone with water. The rag was soft and warm, but brushed over his skin brusquely. She could be gentler than that, surely? He reached up to take her hand, but his fingers closed over fur.

He opened one eye. A great pink tongue was descending on his face and he jerked his head to the side. "Terrier!" he groaned, pushing the big dog away. Terrier barked cheerfully and began digging, showering the king with sand and weeds.

Zachary groaned and rolled onto his side before trying to sit up. Thankfully, he didn't seem too seriously damaged. He had landed in a patch of wiry weeds and he picked them off his clothing as he stood. Terrier began digging frantically at his feet.

Night Hawk huffed and pranced some ways away, his coat matted and gleaming with sweat. His body heaved for breath and his legs quivered. Zachary, pricked by guilt, tried to approach, but the stallion danced out of his reach, tossing his head and flaring his nostrils, his ears pinned back.

"Calm down," Zachary said, "Let me cool you down." He reached for a rein, but Night Hawk snapped at his fingers. Zachary felt his own temper rise up in his throat. Forcing it down, he rounded the horse and tried to approach again. Night Hawk spun to face him, lowering his head menacingly. "Fine!" Zachary threw up his hands. "Have it your way." Night Hawk snorted and pawed at the sand, then loped toward the water. He shied at the waves, then bounded back to the king, veering away just as he came within reach.

Zachary passed his hands over his face with a groan. The adrenaline was fading and the past twenty-four hours dragged him down into the sand. Sleep had evaded him the last few hours of the night. Tormented by thoughts of what had almost been and what would always be, he'd walked the beach like some sort of phantom, back-and-forth along the same empty stretch, barefoot in the bracing water, willing the ocean wind to whip his plights away. When all it did was numb his face and whistle like a jeerer in his ears, he turned from the rising sun and resorted to Night Hawk.

Karigan. He ached for her, he needed her, and he feared he had lost her forever. He had seen glimpses of her most bitter fury in the past, always directed at others – Amilton, Mornhavon. Tyrants and villains and traitors. Last night, it had glimmered in her eyes as she pushed him away and edged the words she hurled at him. And it had made her run, as though she ran from an enemy.

An enemy. He drew his legs up and rested his forehead against his knees. What could he do? What was he trying to do? She had asked him that. How much longer would he torment both of them and keep on imagining a future that did not and would never exist? "Release me," she'd commanded. "Let me go."

He couldn't let her go. Wouldn't. Didn't. He held on, she pushed him away. It had been like glass shattering. At one point completely whole – she had fit against him seamlessly, just as he had always imagined she would, and for one blissful, brief moment, they were one. And then she ran, and they shattered.

Terrier forced a stick into Zachary's hand. He tossed it and the dog limped after it, barking gleefully.

What sort of sick hope did he cling to? After all, what he felt for her was meaningless. They both had responsibilities. He was betrothed to Lady Estora. He was king and she was far, far out of his reach. They were stuck where they were.

Terrier was hobbling back to him, the white stick clamped in his mouth. Night Hawk grazed up near the trees, his breaths calming.

She hadn't said she did not love him. She didn't say it. Had he even given her a chance to say it? Maybe she didn't love him. Maybe he had convinced himself of a delusion. Maybe, for the first time, the blood he shared with his brother had finally reared its ugly head and he had tried to take what he wanted, without thought, without consideration, simply because he wanted it. How was he any different than Amilton?

She had retreated from an enemy. An enemy – no – that couldn't be. She loved him. He knew she did. It wasn't his delusion. She had to. If she didn't, she wouldn't have responded to him the way she did. She ran later, but first she surrendered.

He closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath. And how she had surrendered.

The stick was pressing against his fingers again. He took it and opened his eyes for a second throw. With a shocked cry, he hurled it from himself. Terrier chased it happily. Zachary clambered to his feet. Not a stick, but a bone. A long, white, rutted bone. He looked down. Bones littered the ground beside where he had been sitting, dug up by the silly dog. They poked from the sand, some stained, some splintered. And he had had the misfortune of landing right on top of them.

Animal, he thought. Something that was killed and left to rot there, buried by the shifting sands. He brushed off his clothing and considered. He could return to the house, beg exhaustion and try to sleep. Aeryc knew he needed it. Perhaps he could go with Ainsley and his sons, help them with their tasks. Work like a common laborer. He chuckled. He'd probably be more trouble than help. Then there were the Spinters – he could visit them. Or Mickey, the blacksmith. They could get drunk together again. That didn't sound too bad, actually.

This was all assuming, of course, that Night Hawk would allow him to ride. He moved and the horse sidestepped away.

Terrier dropped the bone at his feet and panted up at him. Zachary scratched his ears. "At least you're not angry at me." He was rewarded with a lick on his wrist, then Terrier continued to dig in the pile of bones. Where was Emmi? She didn't seem like the type to let her dog wander the island alone.

Something metallic jingled. Terrier was tugging on something buried deep in the sand. Zachary took it from the dog and dragged it up. Leather and Y-shaped, it looked somewhat like a horse's breast collar. He glanced at Night Hawk to confirm, then flipped the leather over. Splotches of color indicated it was once dyed a deep green, with tarnished gold disks as ornaments. He looked at Night Hawk again. He wore an identical collar. Heart sinking and unease rising, Zachary looked back down at the skeleton that Terrier steadily uncovered. A Rider horse?

He set the collar aside and knelt, joining the dog in the dig. More bones, some unidentifiable scraps, driftwood. His fingers closed around a leather strap and he hauled. After more digging and pulling, the strap finally gave and a satchel emerged, heavy with sand. He traced the Rider insignia stamped into the bulging leather, then dumped the contents out. Sand, rocks, shells. Nothing of interest. He held the satchel against his legs, running his thumbs over the water-warped leather. Terrier was still digging, but uncovering nothing more. No skull, no saddle, no bridle. Probably washed away by the ocean.

He racked his brain. He rarely had reason to send Riders to Black Island, and as far as he could remember, the few that had gone had returned safely. Would Captain Mapstone have told him if one of them had lost their horse?

He looked back down at the satchel. This would not please Karigan. Not at all.

"Terrier! There you are!"

Zachary looked up. Emmi stood with her hands on her hips, frowning at the dog that limped toward her. "How many times do I tell you not to run off?" He sat before her, panting, tongue lolling, adoring her with his big brown eyes. She eventually smiled and threw her small arms around him, apparently incapable of resisting the mutt's charm. "You scared me. I thought you were gone forever."

Zachary stood and kicked the bones back into the pit, holding the collar and satchel behind his back. After whispering other sweet nothings to her pet, Emmi finally took notice of the king. She squealed with delight and charged him, leaping into his unready arms.

"Terry was protecting you, wasn't he?" she cried, hugging his neck. "I should have known he would be doing something good."

Zachary patted her back awkwardly, trying not to smack her with the satchel. "Yes, he was. He has been very helpful today." He removed his arms, but she clung to his neck nonetheless. With a sigh, Zachary dropped his burdens and moved the little girl onto his back. "Is your home nearby?"

"Oh yes. Just on the other side of the trees."

On the other side? He hadn't noticed it when he was riding. He hadn't noticed much of anything while he was riding, and now that he considered it…where was he?

Carefully picking up the satchel and collar, he approached Night Hawk slowly. The horse watched him, but didn't balk and Zachary attached his findings to the saddle. Taking up the reins, he led the little band through the trees.

"There's my house." Emmi pointed past Zachary's head. "Isn't it lovely? Mama takes good care of it."

A little cottage huddled against the trees, a thriving garden blanketing the front lawn, locked in by a wooden fence. Zachary tied Night Hawk to a post, then opened the gate. Emmi slipped down Zachary's back and he barely caught her in time to place her on her feet. She ran to her house, threw open the door and shouted, "Mama, he's here! You have to come meet him!"

Zachary stood awkwardly on the stone path until a woman appeared in the doorway. A smile erupted on her comely face and she moved toward him, hands outstretched. "It's you!" she cried. He reached out a hand to take one of hers, but she politely ignored the gesture and instead enveloped him in a tight embrace. He returned the hug hesitantly, unsure of how this woman recognized him, and why she viewed him in such an intimate light. She finally released him, holding him out at arm's length. "You're up and about! I was going to visit you later today once my cooking was done, but you came to me instead!"

"I am afraid I don 't recall being introduced…?"

"Of course not. You were barely breathing at the time." She led him into the house. "I'm AnnElyse, the midwife in this little town. I'm the one that stitched up your back." She gave him a smile and ushered him into a quaint sitting room. The furniture pieces were old, but neatly patched and cleaned. Despite their wear, however, they were obviously of expensive design. Paintings hung on paneled walls and the worn carpet showed patches of vibrant color.

"You have a beautiful home," Zachary said, looking around curiously.

"Thank you. Please, sit down. Your back must be hurting terribly for you to have come here. I'll fetch some tea." She disappeared through a door. While he waited, Zachary wandered about the room, peering at the silver and glass decorations.

"Doesn't she keep it beautiful?" Emmi said, following him.

"Yes. Very." He paused at a long desk. Beneath the glass surface, three maps were carefully preserved. Two were of Sacoridia and Rhovanny. The third, however, was nothing but torn paper and smudged ink stains. Leaning down close and squinting, he could barely discern an outline and some writing, but nothing else.

"You're not allowed to touch the glass," Emmi warned. "Mama doesn't let us touch anything in here. She used to be very rich, but not anymore. Sometimes she worries about money. Mat tells her to sell her things, but she won't do it."

Zachary rubbed away the smudge his nose had left. "What does your father do?"

"I don't know. I never see him. All Mama says about him is I need to find a man that will treat me better than he treated her." She took his hand and turned him to face her. "I'd like to know, please, what your lady likes are."

Zachary furrowed his brow. "My lady likes?"

She gave a brisk nod. "Yes. I mean – do you like fair ladies or dark ladies? And must they be big or thin? And are you in a great big hurry to get yourself marriaged, or do you think you could wait a little bit? Like ten years, or about. And – besides all that," she added with sudden anxiety, "if it would be too much to take care of a wife and a dog."

Touched, Zachary crouched and kissed her hand gently. "Do you say you want to marry me, Lady Emmi?"

She sighed and crushed his happiness. "Not really. To marriage is silly and only for old people. I'd rather be a Black Weapon. But I'll sacrifice myself for Mama, if only to make her stop worrying about money. But I do like you, Zachary, and I think you would treat me better than my papa treated Mama. I especially like your big brown eyes. They're like Terrier's. And the way your mouth sort of nearly but not quite smiles sometimes. Have you got lots of money with you?"

He chuckled. "I'm afraid not."

She frowned at him. "I never would have thought you'd be a big disappointment, Zachary, but you are. A hugeous one."

"I'm very sorry, my dear. But – perhaps by the time you're old enough to get married I might be able to find enough. Would that serve?"

The small shoulders shrugged. "No, I'm afraid. I need it now. People make promises about marriaging sometimes, years before they really do, and I was hoping you and me could make that kind of thing, and then I could have the money. But – I suppose I'll have to find somebody else."

He gave one small earlobe a tug. "I wish you wouldn't, Lady Emmi. Can't you possibly wait for me?"

She looked glum. "I'll try, Zachary. But Mama said only yesterday that things are getting desperate, and if it keeps on like that, I'll just have to sacrifice myself to somebody else!"

"Ah, I see you've found my maps."

Zachary straightened, a smile still tugging at his mouth. "Yes. They're beautiful." He pointed, careful not to touch the glass. "I see Sacoridia and Rhovanny, but what is this third one?" AnnElyse set the tea on a table and joined him.

"That one was given to me by my grandfather. I'm sure he told me once where it is, but I'm afraid I don't remember." She smiled apologetically. "Somewhere far away."

Zachary gazed down at it, intrigued and certainly mystified.

"Now, Emmi, if you could go finish your lessons."

"But Mama – "

"No. When you're done maybe we'll finish off those tarts from last night." She gave her daughter a wink and Emmi gave a little squeal of excitement as she hurried out of the room.

"Lessons?" Zachary inquired politely, following AnnElyse's guiding hand to a chair.

"Yes. I tutor both of my children." She handed him a delicate cup of tea. "I will never be able to afford sending either to Selium, but I will give them the best education I can." She smiled. "Now, your injuries. Has Rena been applying the ointment?"

"Oh, right. Yes, they've gotten much better." His face reddened. How was he going to explain that?

"Apparently, for you to be riding already." She peered at him curiously. "They were very deep."

He offered a closed-mouth smile. "Yes, they were."

She waited for more, but he sipped his tea and found something else in the room to look at. She placed her cup on the table. "Well, I suppose I'll check on them now. Please turn."

He hesitated, holding his cup to his lips. Then he reluctantly set it down and twisted in his seat.

"I'm supposing that you're glad they're healing quickly," she said as she rolled up his shirt. "You'll be wanting to return to – " Her voice cut off. Zachary bit his lip. A silence passed, then he felt her fingertips on his shoulder blade, then down at the base of his spine. Another silence, then she said flatly, "They've healed very quickly."

"Yes," he replied lamely. "They have."

She lowered his shirt and returned to her seat, taking up her tea. As she drank, she watched him over her cup, very suspicious. He shifted uneasily, then spoke. "I came to make sure that Terrier returned home safely. I didn't want Emmi to be worried. I didn't realize you were her mother."

"You went to Marli Spinter, didn't you?"

His eyes roved away from AnnElyse's face and he took another drink. "Yes, I met Marli. She's very charming."

"She's a witch."

His eyes snapped back to hers. "That is a hefty accusation," he said evenly. AnnElyse's chin lifted.

"It is true. She is the only one who could have healed your injuries so quickly. She uses magic. You shouldn't have gone."

Zachary's jaw flexed. "My business is my own," he said.

A slight pucker appeared between AnnElyse's brows. "If she used her magic, then you can be certain that there will be a price to pay. A woman like her – from such a family…you should not have gone to her."

Zachary stood suddenly, fighting to keep his temper down. No one could tell him what he could and could not do. He was master of himself. No one else. After a moment, very aware of the midwife's curious gaze, he settled back into the chair. "What do you know of Marli Spinter?" he said, hearing his aggravation still quivering in his voice.

AnnElyse leaned back in her chair. "She cast a spell on Fedir."

At this pronouncement, the king's harried emotions erupted into laughter. "A love spell?" he said, far more harshly than he imagined it would sound.

She frowned at him. "Before they married," she said as Zachary downed a gulp of tea, "Fedir was an apprentice blacksmith. He had high hopes of going to Sacor City to live and work. It was his – he wanted to craft blades for masters, for Black Shields. He had a talent with metal. He made this." She rose and lifted a statue off a shelf, passing it to Zachary. It was a deer, one cloven hoof lifted, tail upright, intricate antlers intertwined high above his graceful head.

"This is exquisite," the king murmured, turning it over in his hands.

AnnElyse smiled fondly. "Isn't it?"

"I've never seen metalwork like this before." He held it up to his eyes, marveling at the details. "He has an incredible talent." Perhaps he should come to Sacor City.

"Yes, he does. He was well on his way to leaving, when she came."

Zachary reluctantly returned the statue to her. "You mean Marli."

"Yes. The girl comes stumbling into the village, all rags and dirt, half-starved. Fedir's family took her in, nursed her back to health. Apparently he fell in love with her." AnnElyse set the statue on the shelf, her fingers lingering on the deer's back. "He used all of his money to pay for a wedding and to build a house."

Zachary watched her closely. "He married her, despite what everyone believes about her?"

"Oh we didn't know." AnnElyse moved across the room in irritation. "We all just thought she was just some orphan. Then things began happening." She peered at him out of the corner of her eye ominously. Zachary quirked an eyebrow. "Rains came one year and everyone's gardens washed away, except for hers. Those trees around their house sprung to adulthood in a matter of months. Her little boy shattered his leg and not two days later he was running around, just like you."

Zachary stroked his beard. "I'll not say I have an explanation for you, but…are those events truly evil?"

"It's magic," she snapped. "And that tattoo on her hand – the dead, black tree? Who has a tattoo like that? Dagon has the same thing." AnnElyse shook her head. "I've told Mat and Emmi to stay away from him. I will not have him influencing my children."

Zachary considered her. Her speech and mannerisms betrayed her as well-educated and her belongings could sell for a very good price. Who was she, really? "I understand," he said. "You have seen this tattoo on Dagon?"

She flushed. "Not myself, no. But Mat has told me about it."

"Mmmm. It - err - sounds as though you know Fedir well."

She tipped her chin up. "I loved him," she said boldly. "I would have done anything for him. And he married her."

"Would you kill for him?" Zachary said just as boldly, holding her eyes in a steady gaze. She stared back, mouth gaping.

Emmi chose that moment to come careening into the room. "Mama! I'm all done with my lessons!"

AnnElyse shook her head and forced a smile on her face. "So fast! That is excellent, my darling."

"Can I have a tart now, please? Can Zachary have one too?"

Zachary stood. "I actually should leave. I need to be returning to – " Karigan. " – Rena and Ainsley."

Emmi pouted. "Not even one tart?"

"Not even one. Goodbye, Lady Emmi." He patted her tousled curls. The two females followed him out of the house.

"Goodbye, Zachary!" Emmi cried, waving energetically. "Come see me again soon! And find some money so we can get marriaged!"

AnnElyse didn't seem at all surprised by this farewell. She allowed the king to kiss her hand and she smiled sweetly upon him. "Zachary."

He returned the smile. "AnnElyse."

Night Hawk watched his approach warily, then stepped away when Zachary tried mounting. The king returned the horse's stare, then shook his head and took up the reins. "I'll walk," he murmured, rubbing the stallion's nose. He could see the roofs of the main village in the distance, but he detoured to the beach. Crouching beside the pit of bones, he brushed a bit more sand around. A Rider horse, apparently killed and buried fully tacked. Visions of a Green Rider at the inn. A corpse in a hayloft. A lover, replaced by a 'witch.' He stood, then crouched once more when something glimmered in the weeds. It was a chain, too small to fit anywhere on a saddle or bridle.

He lifted it up and an amulet of sorts popped out of the sand. He caught it with one hand, rubbing the grime away. A square piece of black metal shone dully at him. In its center was smaller square of stained glass, the loveliest blue he'd ever seen. Well, no…Karigan's eyes were the loveliest blue he had ever seen. He rubbed the necklace against his trousers as he stood. It matched her eyes perfectly.

It must have belonged to the Rider who owned the horse. He absently stroked his beard as he thought. Would it be an insult to her memory if he took it? Wherever her body was, he had no way of resting it with her. He began walking back to the village. No, it wouldn't be disgraceful. He would give it to Karigan. Truly, the blues were the same. He stared at the necklace as he walked. He would give it to her and apologize. She wouldn't accept it, of course, but he would try.

That wasn't like Amilton, was it? His steps quickened. His brother would have never apologized. His brother would never have stopped. He would have taken what he wanted.

"I stopped," Zachary said out loud. He smiled at the words. Yes, he would give her the necklace and ask her forgiveness. With a grin at Night Hawk, who seemed to be politely ignoring him, he jogged all the way back to Ainsley's house.