The Shadowed Princes

Lady Kady Maguire, six months pregnant, folded her hands together across her swollen belly. Her flaxen curls had grown out and hung to her shoulders. She wore her hair brushed behind her ears and secured in place with elegant clips. The night after she killed Cormic Parry in the Difficult Horse Tavern for trying to kidnap her, Kady had shown her hair off as a symbol of making a new beginning. The abused daughter of a tavernmaster with little hope for the future, Kady persuaded Cahira Sinclair, Kynyr's grandmother, to take her on as an apprentice. Kady had not really expected Cahira to accept her, because eighteen was considered too old to start an apprenticeship; since most cubs were apprenticed at ten. She fell in love and married Kynyr Maguire, only to discover that her dashing guardsmon was actually the bastard prince and heir to the lycan realm of Red Wolf. Treachery had struck him down, leaving him crippled and ill; however, in her heart, he would always be her Kynyr, strong and capable.

She regarded her husband with fond and loving eyes.

"We won, Kynyr."

Kynyr stirred in his wheel-chair. His chiseled features, which had been so handsome, were gaunt with deep purple circles beneath his blue eyes, rendered haggard by lines that aged his face beyond his twenty-one years. "We won a battle. Not the war."

"We'll win the war, too." Her tone of voice betrayed her: she sounded as if she were trying to convince herself as well as Kynyr.

"I want to believe that, Kady. I really do. But it won't be easy." Bitterness at being crippled edged his words, although he tried to hide it more and more. Iollen Newell, the one-armed widower who worked for them as an odd jobber, had slapped him with a stinging accusation of cowardice, jolting Kynyr into trying to cope with his situation.

"I'm not saying that it will be."

Belgair Doherty, the Captain of Claw's Guardsmyn, had thrown in his lot with Kynyr's mortal enemy, Malthus Estrobian. A bloody purge of the guardsmyn, prelude to a coup, had left many of Kynyr's friends dead or wounded. The next morning, Belgair attacked the Maguire Estate. Tobrytan MacFie had marched an army from Clan MacLachlan across a makeshift bridge during the night, arriving in time to hand Belgair's forces a devastating defeat. Belgair himself had perished in the battle, cut down by Kynyr's legendary grandfather, Todd Sinclair.

"Kynyr Maguire?" A giant of a lycan entered the room and raked his amber eyes across Kynyr. He stood six seven, with big, thick bones, black hair, and fair skin. His air of casual arrogance proclaimed an ability to tackle whatever life threw at him and beat it into submission.

Kynyr stared uneasily. He had never seen anyone larger than Todd. He let the brake off on his wheel-chair and rolled forward. "Yes, I'm Kynyr."

A smile blossomed on Kady's face. "Hello, Stone."

Stoneriver had been born Brock Redhand, the younger brother of the late chieftain Claw. By rights, Stone should have been old. The average lycan lifespan was one hundred twenty. He looked barely thirty, although he was well past one hundred.

"There are no miracles, except those we make for ourselves," said Stone. "Allow me."

Kynyr could not think of what to say and so sat motionless, watching Stone roll up his own sleeve. Then he pushed Kynyr's out of the way and pressed his forearm to his, skin to skin.

The prince could not do magic, but he could see the patterns of arcane energy – an inheritance from his grandmother, Cahira. Stone spoke words in a language that Kynyr, fluent in many tongues, had never heard before. A pattern of crimson and azure wrapped around their arms. A jolt of energy rushed through Kynyr, filling him with a sense of well being. His body tingled from the tips of his toes and fingers to the top of his head.

"What was that?"

"Shared Life done wrong." A leisurely smile, laced with cockiness, spread across Stone's face. "I can't say how much good it will do, but my kinsmon Dynarien says it might surprise you."

"You're a lifemage?"

"No. I just do tricks. There will be no more chieftains in Red Wolf, if I have any say in it, and I think I will have a lot. No, there will be a king."

"Who?"

"Kynyr Maguire."

His name, so simply spoken, stunned Kynyr, and he repeated an old Creeyan proverb without thinking. "Duty is where you find it."

Kady moved closer, and laid her hand over Kynyr's squeezing it.

The edges of Stone's mouth twitched. "After everything that has happened, I am surprised that you can still say that."

"What else would I say? I'm Todd Sinclair's grandson." Kynyr shrugged, grasped his thigh, and shifted the unresponsive leg into a more comfortable position. Kady immediately tucked his lap blanket into place again. Kynyr caressed Kady with his eyes, and then turned back to his uncle. "What did you do to me? What do you mean by Shared Life done wrong?

"Do you know what Shared Life is?"

"My grandmother's a mage. My father was a schoolteacher." Kynyr felt suddenly defensive. Too many people had assumed in the past – including Malthus – that because he had chosen to become a guardsmon, he was the usual ignorant sod with more fight than sense. "Josiah Abelard created it to mimic the gifts of the lifemages, transferring both blood and life force."

"I see you're an educated mon. Done wrong, it leaves in the random factor, and what might come of that, no one can predict."

Kynyr considered the implications. It was a strange introduction to his infamous uncle; so he decided to let the matter drop.

GODWAR CENTRAL

The Shadowed Princes