“You should have escaped when you had the chance, Storm.”

“You mean after you left me pinned and defenseless when the garm attacked? I wouldn’t leave my worst enemy to face that fate—which I proved when I stayed to help the very people who came to destroy my home and kill my people. But even if I could be as self-serving as you, Falcon, there is no escape anymore. Not for me. Not for you. Not for any of us.”

“Drop the sword, Kham. If you don’t, you won’t be leaving this place alive.”

Her eyes narrowed. She took a deep breath, then said very clearly, very deliberately, “No.”

“Archers!” he rapped out. “Target the boy.”

Kham stood her ground. “That won’t work this time, Falcon. If you kill Krysti, I will destroy every living thing in this valley.” In her hands, Roland’s sword went hot, and the diamond in its hilt grew blinding bright. “You know I can do it.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Not this time.” Her steady gaze never wavered. The light in Blazing’s hilt grew brighter. “Did you not see what just happened here? The garm? The dead arising to fight again? I warned you that Rorjak was coming, and this battle proves it. Carnak is upon us. If any of us hope to survive, we have to stop fighting each other and start working together to defeat the real enemy: Rorjak, the Ice King.”

“I came here for that sword, Storm, and I’m not leaving without it.”

“It isn’t yours, Falcon. It will never be yours. Even if you kill me—even if you kill every living member of our bloodline—Blazing will never answer to you. You are not Roland’s Heir.”

“Liar! I bear the Rose. I’m as much an Heir of Roland as you—and the rightful King of Summerlea.”

“Once, perhaps, but no longer. You threw everything away to go searching for the sword. You betrayed everything Roland ever stood for. Now you are a man without a country, and a prince without a crown. Your weathergift and that Rose on your wrist are the only gifts of Helos you’ll ever possess.”

“Archers, fire!”

Kham gripped her sword, and cried, “Shield!” A dome of white-hot flame sprang up around her. Every arrow that flew into the fiery wall disintegrated instantly into ash. She fed more power into the shield, pushing it out along its circumference until the gathered Calbernans and Summerlanders fell back to avoid being incinerated. Within the bright shield, Khamsin turned slowly in a complete circle, targeting each bow aimed her way.

“Burn,” she breathed and carefully orchestrated flows of superheated air snaked out from her shield. Summerlander archers screamed as their bows burst into flames.

Kham dropped her shield. A barely caged inferno burned in her eyes as she met her brother’s stunned gaze. “I meant to offer you a chance to make amends, to recover some part of the honor you threw away, but if death is your choice, then death it will be. Fire.” Flames burst to life along Blazing’s shining length. She drew back her arm, keeping the sword pointed at Falcon. “Good-bye, brother.”

Before she could loose Blazing’s deadly fire, the Calbernan leader standing a few feet from Falcon began to laugh.

“Gods, what a woman!” The Calbernan slapped one massive paw against Falcon’s back with enough strength to make him stagger. To Khamsin, the Calbernan said, “I like you, myerina. So much more than I like your brother. I will be sad to end your life. Throw down that weapon. Surrender to me now, and I will take you as my liana and fill your belly with my offspring.”

Khamsin did not take offense. She remembered the lessons Tildy had drummed into her head about the customs of neighboring kingdoms. The Calbernan’s threat about killing her was a bluff. Calbernans revered women, having so few females of their own kind. And his offer to take her his liana—his wife—was an invitation to live in wealth and comfort beneath the powerful protection and devoted care of a fierce warrior of the isles.

“Regrettably, I must decline your gracious offer, Sealord, and extend instead an offer of my own. Wintercraig has long lived in peace with Calberna. You made yourselves our enemy when you joined forces with my brother and invaded our lands. That foolish act can either end in the slaughter of your army and the destruction of your homeland, or you can renounce your alliance with my brother and join forces with me instead to fight an evil that threatens us all. Do that, and the peace between our kingdoms will continue as if this invasion never happened. You have my word, as Queen of Wintercraig.”

The Calbernan cocked his head to one side. The long, dark strands of his hair, wound in dozens of inch-wide ropes slid across his bare, impressively-muscled chest and shoulders. “Death stalks Calberna every day. We do not fear it. But to return home with so many lives lost and nothing to show for our troubles, this would not make my people happy. Besides the prince, your brother, tells me you are queen against your will and for only a year. Forgive me, myerina, if I do not consider your word as Wintercraig’s queen a reliable star to sail by.”

“The Calbernans are circling to our left and right,” Krysti whispered.

“I see them,” Kham confirmed. In a louder voice, she said, “You have not yet made yourself my enemy, Sealord. I implore you not to do so now. My brother has—unintentionally, I’m sure—misled you about my situation. I am quite happy here, I have a husband I love dearly, and his child already grows inside me.”

Falcon regarded her in shock. “You are with child?”