The doorway was narrow, almost too narrow for him to fit through. In fact if he hadn't hunched down just a bit and went through sideways he would have never of fit. How had anyone gotten through the door in the first place let alone gotten his brother … his untrusting , wary brother… to walk through that door? The answer was simple… they hadn't given him a choice.

The stairs creaked and moaned with each steep. The damn thing was going to collapse he could feel it. A pungent rotted stale smell flooded the air. Yet he followed the hearth witch and wondered why he was walking into cob webs. Why the stairs were in such dismay? Why… "What do you usually use the cellar for?"

Kathrin was now standing at the bottom of the steps. If he hadn't spoken she wouldn't have turned… wouldn't have seen… "No." she gasped. "The whoring bitch she had no right!"

Lucivar took the last few steps and saw the bed. Oh he knew all too well what one of those were used for. By the witch's reaction that hadn't been here when she left. He should destroy it so nothing but bits of fiber remained. He should have but didn't. He wasn't a black widow but a gifted black widow would be able to draw out the images and replay what had happen, and he knew two that would want to know what those images held so that the blood debt could be paid in full.

The witch hadn't jumped not once when he roared. Not once when he gave her a glare that should have left her bleeding, but she jumped and let out a startled yelp when he vanished the damn "bed". He let out a soft thunder less snarl in disapproval. It was enough to focus her attention. "Where is my brother?" his voice sent waves of thunder through the cellar. For just a moment he thought he saw a door. For just a moment…

He knew where he was now and cursed. His father had a place like this in the hall… or rather beneath it. A place that Daemon now used. Jaenelle had her workroom… a room only a chosen few would enter or could. This was a black widows work space. Judging by the new dust and the feel or lack of physic scent the black widow was no longer here. It didn't make this place any less dangerous.

Taking a breath to steady himself he spoke once more, ignoring the fact that the witch hadn't yet told him where his brother was, "Your mother was a black widow?"

"She was and died because of it." Kathrin gave herself a mental shake. "I'm sorry, Prince Sadi is through there." She pointed to a wall then continued in a solemn voice, "It use to be my mother's work room and until now no one was ever held here, and will never again enter this room."

Lucivar nodded with respect and remembered to tread lightly. Also remembered to keep his inner barriers sealed… not just closed, but completely sealed and shielded. No telling what kind of defensive webs were tied to this place. No telling what would be found on the other side of that wall.

He passed slowly through the wall and froze. He could fell the webs trying to wrap around him, could feel them just outside his inner barrier. Thanked the darkness that he wore the darker jewel anyone else unwelcome would be meet an unkindly death.

The room was dark. Too dark to see anything beyond his own eyes. The smell of fresh blood sizzled through the air. The anguish and grief rolled off the walls. He could almost hear the screams that he felt vibrating in his bones. Common sense told him to turn around and not return. Arrogance told him that it would be unacceptable to run away from a fight. The knowledge that his brother was in this room made him stay. He strapped a bit of steel to his spine and formed a small ball of witchlight.

His stomach rolled. All the emotions unhealthy to any eyrien… or any male… slammed into his head. For just a moment his heart clogged his throat. For just that brief moment he couldn't think. When his heart started to beat once more he allowed himself to take in what he was seeing.

Daemon was laying on the ground in such an unnatural position that it was hard to believe that he was still alive. Giving into fear he knelt down beside his brother and let the soft physic tendril feel for what the eyes couldn't see. His ribs were broke. Arms pulled from the joints, the same for his legs and ankles. Blood was seeping inside him from a wound that he couldn't even describe. His heart was beating to slow to be healthy yet it filled him with hope.

Just as he grazed his hand over Daemon' wet sweat drenched hair, a pair of cloudy golden eyes flicked open. It would have scared him if he was any less then eyrien. Softly, gently he spoke, "Daemon."

His head moved, his body didn't, only adding to the pain and discomfort. In a voice that rusty either from misuse or from the screams that were still trying to escape he answered the golden eyes."Come to kill me, Prick?"

Too many years yet he remembered the last time his brother had spoken those words. Remembered the answer he gave then. Tears stung his eyes. "No, I've come to take you home."

His eyes shut for only a minute and a whimper escaped him. "You promised to kill me. It was my fault…Please… please… you promised." Then his eyes shut no longer able to keep them open. No longer caring. The man who was before him wasn't truly there. Couldn't be. He was dead… splatter on the wall of the Keep if remembered. No his brother couldn't kill him for he was dead.

Too many feeling rushed at him. To many terrible, ill feelings .all those memories of knowing he had caused his brother to fall into the twisted kingdom. It was too much. He was watching his brother die. He was watching as the web their father weaved was closing in… he was…

Lucivar gave himself a stern mental shake. He was a warlord prince. He was the among the most stubborn of races and he was not going to let his brother die before he got to kick his ass for believing whatever the bitch had told him to get him here. And he was not going to let his brother go beyond the reach of their queen till she had a chance to dent his head.

He sent a plea into the darkness for enough time to get his brother home then snapped several shields around the pain in the ass. Using craft he picked his brother up just enough to see the arms would need to be bound to his body or risk them tearing through the flesh. He would curse his brother later; right now he had to get him up stairs and to Karla. Right now he had to keep calm and remember every word, every curse and everything that he would do to Daemon once he was well enough to appreciate it.

As he got Daemon through the wall / door Lucivar let out a curse. It was such a small thing right not but it pissed him off to find that the Hearth witch was gone form site. Fine. Just fine. Well he could drag Daemon up the steps … on second thought… Karla would kill him if he did anything to make the pain in the ass worse. Lucivar almost swallowed his pride enough to call out for help… the door leading to the kitchen opened before he could.

Khary and Aaron stood in the doorway looking down at him. Anger barely hid under Aarons eyes. Khary looked at least calm… then again they had spent several years around both him and the High Lord so that might not mean a damn thing. Lucivar made a vague gesture at his mess of a brother, "He looks lighter than he is."

Khary crack a small smile, "Probably all those nut cakes Mrs. Beal leaves at the dinner table." It was poor joke but something had to be said that would mean that they were there help without actually saying that they were to help.

Nothing more needed to be said. They would help if Lucivar wanted or needed them to or not.

He knew he could use craft and float Daemon up the steps and probably pass him through the doorway by himself. If this was another time and another place he would have. But he had friends here and he didn't need to do this alone.

A few moments later they had Daemon's weight carried between them. Any one of them could have done it alone. Hell they could have held him with nothing more than brute strength but he was family and a friend and this was theirs to do. Just before they opened the door leading into the kitchen Lucivar asked," How did you know I needed help." Not just with Daemon but with the demons he was battling in his own mind.

Khary answered quietly, "The hearth witch said you might and then had a very brief conversation with Karla."

Well that explained two questions: Aaron's bristling attitude and where the little hearth witch ran off to. He didn't even want to know what the conversation was about. Just something else that would make him want to slam his head against a stone wall. No whatever was said between the females he did not want to know.