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  Although certainly more embarrassing.

  “Allegria,” he said, his voice husky with desire. The need to slake suddenly overwhelming urges on her body rode high when the chaos magic chose that outlet for its power. There was a plea in his voice for her to move away from him, to give him the space he needed whenever the chaos took over his emotions.

  Not that he often had been successful in quelling its demands by such means. Usually, he just hustled her off to whatever bedchamber had been assigned to them and indulged his desires, leaving them both boneless and sated. And although Allegria had said she understood the situation, and never blamed him when he interrupted her with one of the chaos times (as he’d come to think of them), of late she had started to bandy about the phrase, “my lusty stallion”— not at all a nickname he relished.

  He’d always been in control of the magic he wielded, dammit, and he wasn’t about to be known as a man who couldn’t so much as glance at his wife without being driven to bed her. Vigorously. Sometimes multiple times a day.

  “I don’t see anything,” Allegria was telling Deo, scanning both the tree line and the road ahead. “And the Eidolon I met were quite visible. I don’t think they could be in a corporeal state if they weren’t visible, could they? Hallow, do you know if—” Her eyes widened, accurately reading the mingled desperation, apology, and sexual desire in his eyes. She blinked for a moment, then gave a little chirrup of laughter that she hid with a hand placed over her mouth. “Oh. I see. It’s…uh…no, Deo, get back on your horse. There are no Eidolon here. Hallow was…mistaken.”

  It was too much for him. He pulled Penn aside, dismounting and dropping the reins with an order for the horse to stay put. “I believe I need to…er…” He gestured toward the woods, unable to drag his mind from the struggle to control the chaos magic’s lustful demands.

  “Ah?” Deo made a face, then nodded. “Yes, I need to make water as well. Too much ale from the one-legged harlot that you refused to pay.”

  Hallow would have liked to dispute that comment, but the sooner he removed his body from the temptation of his delectable wife, the sooner he would regain the upper hand with the chaos magic. He stumbled off to the copse, swearing under his breath at the loss of control, promising himself that just as soon as they took care of the Eidolon threat, he would focus his attention on mastering the magic that had been forced upon him. Perhaps new runes? He’d never heard of protection against lustful urges, but he would simply have to search the library of the former master of Kelos for what aids he could find.

  Everyone had evidently decided that this was indeed the perfect moment for a nature break, because the sounds of their small company dismounting reached his ears as he pushed deeper into the woods, his hands fisted as he struggled to control the arousal that gripped his entire body. If he could just have a few minutes to himself, he knew he could best it. At least until the next time he felt threatened.

  “Hallow?” Allegria’s voice wrapped around him like silken threads. Rustling sounds accompanied his name, along with the snapping of twigs. “Are you all right?”

  “Don’t,” he warned, doubled over. His fists pressed hard into thighs while he struggled to leash the chaos that threatened to overwhelm him. One abstracted side of his mind mused over the fact that in recent days, the chaos power was gaining strength. Where once it had lain simmering inside him, controlled by the runes on his wrists and ankles, now it fought him whenever a strong emotion was triggered. “I can’t…don’t come any closer, else…else…”

  “Else you’ll make incredibly hot, fast love to me?” Her voice was filled with amusement, even as it stroked over his skin like the softest of silks, making him shudder with want and need and desire, all tangled up with the soul-deep love he felt for her.

  He moaned, and suddenly, she was there, her summery scent of flowers in the afternoon sun filling his senses, her hands on his back, stroking him, no doubt intending to convey comfort, but it was too much, all too much.

  “Allegria,” he snarled, whirling around, his gaze scorching over her body despite the faded and worn Bane of Eris tunic that obscured it. “If you don’t want me to pin you up against the tree behind you, and impale you on a penis so hard it could probably be used to take down the tree itself, then you had best run. Now.”

  She eyed him for a moment, concern making the gold flecks in her ebony eyes glitter. Then suddenly she smiled, and without a word, peeled off both the tunic and leggings that covered her lush, long legs, legs that he knew wrapped around his hips perfectly, as if she had been created just for him.

  A wordless moan of need escaped his lips. Unable to bear it any longer, he almost ripped off his own tunic and breeches, then lunged, the chaos driving him into action. But his love, his need to give her the pleasure she brought him just by existing, tempered his movements, gentling his actions so that when he suited deeds to words and pinned her against the tree, she was moaning into his mouth, her legs wrapped tightly around him as he plunged into her body.

  They didn’t last long, but that, too, was common in recent days. Before he’d been forced to consume chaos magic, he had preferred to pay lengthy homage to her body before allowing himself release; now it was simply a matter of trying to bring her pleasure before he lost all control.

  “I have to say,” Allegria noted a few minutes later, when he let her slide down his body until her feet were once again on the ground, “I really don’t mind your chaos moments. I know you don’t like them because you think it’s the chaos controlling you, but really, Hallow, that was perfectly splendid. Fast, but splendid. Your hip flexibility is a wonder to behold. And that little twist you did—hoo! If such a thing were not unsavory, I’d say you should hold classes to teach other men how to do that thrusting twist. It was most effective.”

  He laughed even as he bent to retrieve the clothing that had been strewn on the branches and ground, one half of his mind filled with sated thoughts, the other worried that his need for her was growing stronger each day. “I appreciate your wishing to share the twist—which was inspired by the very same twist you used when you rode me last night—but I would have no idea what to charge for such a class, let alone where I would hold it. My heart, I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  He asked the last when she grimaced while lifting a foot to pull on her leggings, making quick work of the cross ties. “Not at all, although if we have very many more of the false alarms that kick your chaos magic into a blaze, I will end up walking funny. I grimaced because I had a twinge in my posterior. All that time sailing has weakened my saddle muscles.”

  He gave her a quick leer as he finished dressing, calling out an answer when Deo bellowed impatiently for them before saying, “I will be happy to massage your abused parts later, but if I tried it now, we’ll both be walking funny.”

  She took his hand as he led her through the woods back to the road, casting him a glance that turned from amusement to concern. “We’ll figure out something, Hallow. I’ll talk to Deo about adding more runes to the cuffs. Mayhap that is all that is needed.”

  “Mayhap,” he said, but he had a feeling it was going to take more than a few extra containment runes to push the chaos back to its dormant state.

  * * * *

  It took them two days to ride to Kelos, but the rune that Deo recommended when they stopped the first night seemed to help cage the chaos beast that raged inside him, so that by the time the lone standing tower was visible in the distance, Hallow felt a bit more in control, and ready to face what lay ahead.

  “I have to admit that I’m surprised we haven’t encountered any Eidolon,” he said quietly to Allegria where they rode at the rear of their company. Deo and Quinn, the lifebound captain who’d grudgingly allowed himself to be swept into their plan to subdue the Eidolon before turning their respective attentions to locating Nezu, argued over the best way to remove troublesome spirits from the mortal plane. “N
o one I spoke to in the three towns we’ve passed through has seen so much as a ghostly wisp, let alone a murderous thane and his soldiers.”

  Allegria gave a little shiver, rubbing her arms before deftly keeping her mule Buttercup from nipping the rump of the horse in front of them. “You don’t know just how deadly that thane can be. If he’s out of his crypt, and as angry as Sandor said, then I suspect he’s laying plans that go beyond the mere slaughtering of people near Kelos.”

  “What sort of plans?” he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. He had little knowledge of the Eidolon other than what Allegria had told him, and brief mentions in the journals of the former Master of Kelos. “Do you believe they wish to rule Kelos? There isn’t much there but the spirits who are bound to the land, and they are mostly peaceful.”

  She raised an ebony eyebrow, silently reminding him that both the captain of the guard and the other spirits had attacked them when they’d first arrived at Kelos.

  “Mostly,” he repeated, smiling at her.

  “I don’t know what the thane is up to,” she answered after letting her fingers trail over his hand where it rested on his thigh. The chaos magic threatened to wake up at her touch, but he clamped down hard on it. She hesitated, her brows pulling together for a few seconds. “I just have a feeling that he’s up to something. When Sandor said that the Eidolon were running amok, I had the same sort of idea you had—that they were killing anything that lived. But no one seems to have heard of the Eidolon doing anything. It just seems odd, don’t you think?”

  “Yes,” he said, absently capturing her hand when she would have withdrawn it, and twining his fingers through hers. “I think that Deo will have the opportunity he seeks to destroy spirits, although I have no idea how he expects to do that when chaos magic is powered by the act of death.”

  “I have the exact same worry. I might be able to do it, though.” Allegria sighed and glanced upward, where a few fluffy clouds hid Kiriah Sunbringer from their view. “If Kiriah would remember that I exist, that is.”

  Hallow decided that the time was right to broach a subject he’d had some time to think over. If nothing else, it would focus his attention away from just how warm her hands were, and how much he loved their touch. “Does it not occur to you that perhaps Kiriah is withholding herself from you in order to protect you?”

  She shot him a startled glance. “Protect me how? I’m a lightweaver, Hallow—wielding Kiriah’s power is what I do. I shouldn’t have to be protected from it.”

  “Not her power, no, but—” He hesitated, thinking of how best to put his thoughts into words that wouldn’t insult her. “But perhaps she wishes to keep her power from you so that it cannot be used by another.”

  “Another? What other? Who could possibly be able to use the power of Kiriah other than a lightweaver, and possibly a priestess of her temple?” Her eyes narrowed in thought. “Sandor might, but I can’t believe she would misuse such a blessing. Besides, one of the older priests once said that in her youth, Sandor had a sword made up of sunlight, and that she used it to banish the old ones. She has plenty of power of her own, so she need not poach mine.”

  “Old ones?” he asked, his mind quickly rifling through the various facts gleaned from his readings. “The stone giants?”

  “Yes. But no one has ever seen this sword. Once, when I was a girl, I asked Sandor if it was like my light animals, and she told me it was not a subject fit for discussion, which really doesn’t answer anything, does it?”

  He chuckled at the expression of annoyance that crossed her face, wanting badly to kiss her, but knowing full well that although Buttercup tolerated Penn as she did no other horse, there were limits to what she considered her personal boundaries. Instead he squeezed Allegria’s hand and said simply, “There is one who is strong enough to wield the power of Kiriah. Indeed, if what Queen Dasa said is true, he has long sought it.”

  “Who—oh.” Allegria looked thoughtful. “But Nezu is a god, himself. Why would he covet Kiriah’s power when he has his own?”

  “A power that is limited in scope,” he pointed out.

  “Now that he’s off Eris, you mean?” she asked.

  “Being bound to Eris was what kept him from accessing power, not the reverse,” he gently corrected her. “Did you not hear the queen discussing what she’d learned of her time with Racin?”

  “Before we sailed, when you and Lord Israel were closeted with her? If you recall, that was the morning Quinn decided Ella’s upper story was sufficient to be worthy of his notice, and she stabbed him in the thigh with a fork. I had to intervene before things got too out of hand, so I missed everything the queen said, although you told me it was nothing of great importance. Were you wrong?”

  “No. Yes. Possibly,” he said, first shaking his head, then shrugging. “The queen said Racin—or Nezu, as I suppose we should call him now—was banished to Eris by the twin goddesses. The fact that he was able to leave Eris to travel to Genora proves he had greater mastery over the chaos magic than I suspect they realized.”

  Allegria seemed to chew that thought over. “That’s why you think Kiriah has withheld her power from me, leaving me a lightweaver with no light? So that Nezu can’t get it? I don’t think I understand how he could take from me a magic granted by the goddess.”

  “He’s a god,” Hallow pointed out with another little shrug. “He managed to break his exile. I doubt stripping Kiriah’s magic from you would be impossible for him.”

  She was silent, her fingers withdrawing from his. He wanted to take her into his arms, to breathe in the sun-warmed wildflower scent that seemed to cling to her no matter how long she spent in the saddle, and reassure her that all would be well, but he knew she had been greatly troubled by the loss of her connection to the goddess she served. She needed time to consider this new thought.

  His concern for Allegria was shoved aside when the road curved and twisted its way to the ruins of the once brilliant Kelos. Hallow paused, hearing faint sounds lifted high on the air. He listened intently for a few moments, the entire company halting when Deo, in the lead, reined in his horse and lifted his hand in warning to the others.

  Instantly, the chaos magic inside Hallow burned to life, but he was prepared for that, and pulled hard on the power of Bellias, filling his being with arcany. Its familiar sensation gave him the strength to harness—at least temporarily—the insidious red chaos that demanded so much.

  The others—Ella, the little vanth Dexia, and Quinn—all halted, obviously catching the distant sound as well.

  And then Hallow was flying forward, leaning low over Penn’s neck, his hands drawing symbols even as he heard the sound of hoofbeats behind him, the shout of “Come on, Buttercup!” telling him that Allegria had gotten the jump on Deo.

  Ahead, the crumbled outer wall spilled into the road with spiky fingers of stone that had once been smooth and white, but were now dusted with the gray grime that coated everything in Kelos. Half-standing walls dotted the area, with sharp remains of columns that had once been decorated with stars and moons, now stood as a sad reminder that even a place as venerated as Kelos could fall. Penn leaped one of the fallen columns when Hallow, with his eyes on the figure that flickered back and forth just beyond a pile of rubble, started murmuring spells. He was off Penn, and flinging arcany at the figure. At the same moment he heard a twang, and felt the air next to him ripple as an arrow sailed past and hit the figure just as his arcany peppered it with a dozen little holes of purest starlight.

  The Eidolon—and Hallow had no doubt that the now-corporeal being with white, wispy hair flowing around his head like water was indeed one of the warrior race that had inhabited Alba before the coming of the Starborn and Fireborn—shrieked. It turned toward them, but its form melted into nothing, the strain of retaining a wounded corporeal form too much.

  The spirit who had been fighting the Eidolon was one of the mem
bers of the guard that kept the other spirits in line. He turned a grateful look on Hallow, panting as he made a bow, his voice breathless when he spoke. “Master of Kelos, you are a sight most welcome to my eyes. The captain has been awaiting your—”

  The man stopped when a sword was thrust through his chest. He stared down at it in surprise for a moment, then looked up to Hallow, his face filled with regret even as his form dissolved into nothing.

  Another arrow split the air, catching the Eidolon who had impaled the guard in the throat. He snarled and yanked it out, stalking forward, a massive sword held in one hand, obviously prepared to cleave his enemies in two.

  A roar sounded behind him even as Hallow rained down arcany on the Eidolon, melting him where he stood.

  “Eidolon!” Deo bellowed, jumping onto the fallen column to quickly assess the situation before leaping off it with a cry that Hallow knew full well expressed unbridled joy.

  There was nothing Deo liked more than a reason to fight.

  “To the left,” Allegria said, firing two more arrows before following Deo.

  Kelos was originally laid out in a series of concentric rings, the center of which was the sole intact structure, the Master’s Tower, where he and Allegria resided. Normally, a hush lay over the ruins, the grey ground muffling all but the sharpest of sounds. Now, however, the entire north side was filled with bodies as the spirits who resided there, once arcanists and learned men and women, fought two dozen of the biggest men Hallow had ever seen. They weren’t huge, like the Harborym, but tall and thin, and all of them wore the armor of an age long past, their long white hair whipping around them as they spun, slashed, and stabbed.

  Hallow didn’t pause to consider the irony of spirits fighting other spirits—he simply ran when Allegria slid off Buttercup, nocking another arrow. “Hallow! That’s the thane over by the armory.”

  He ran, gathering up arcany from the skies above and the ground below, the power of life from all living things surrounding him.