THREE DROPS OF BLOOD (37 page)

BOOK: THREE DROPS OF BLOOD

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She detoured on the way to the Warhawk's fortress, so her path and Mrillis' intersected
and they rode three days together. She was gratified to learn that he had been just as concerned
about Megassa's welfare during her pregnancy, immured in the Wayhauk Mountains, cut off
from all help. Rumors he had picked up from travelers coming out of the mountains indicated
Lorkin had a massive building project underway, constructing roads and watchtowers, to
increase the safety and ease of travelers and make it possible for travel and communication and
the transport of supplies even in the worst winter conditions.

They talked of many things during their journey, but even in their most private
communication through the Threads, they didn't speak of the reason why Efrin and Glyssani had
summoned them. Meghianna didn't let herself hope that they wanted to discuss ending Megassa's
exile. The wounds were still too fresh, even for her, even after a winter of silence and missing
her sister and hearing her voice wailing in the winds off the Northern Sea.

There was only one reason she could think of for Efrin and Glyssani to summon them
with no word of explanation, and Meghianna knew better than to think of it, lest some of her
guards and the few ladies who attended her and knew her so well would read it in her face.

Efrin waited for them when they rode through the gates that rainy gray afternoon, and he
laughed aloud when they lowered their hoods at the same time and he saw they had arrived
together.

"Of course," he said, gesturing for them to dismount. "Where else would you two be but
together?"

"Where else?" Mrillis murmured with a sardonic lift of one eyebrow and one corner of
his mouth. He dismounted first and held up his hands to help Meghianna down. "It seems we
have been paired for eternity."

"Is there something wrong with that notion?" she asked, fighting not to laugh.

Mrillis did laugh, tipping his head back and letting the sound ring across the dripping
wet courtyard. Efrin just crossed his arms and shook his head, grinning despite the impatient
tapping of his foot.

"You were this way as a boy," Mrillis said, as the three climbed the private stairs to the
family quarters. "Bursting with some good news, determined that no one was going to hear it
until you had everything arranged just so."

"It's your own fault," Efrin retorted. He paused as they reached the landing and he
pushed the curtain aside to go through into the hallway. "You taught me the advantages of
presentation and appearances."

"Hmm, true." He pretended to scowl.

"You're entirely too pleased with yourself, Papa." Meghianna shook her finger at him,
and was delighted when Efrin grinned, turned smartly on his heel, and sauntered down the
hallway ahead of them. The last time she had seen her father, he had been entirely too somber. It
was good to see him in high spirits again. Now, if Glyssani reflected those same high spirits, she
could count the long winter of solitude and study and prayers well spent.

Glyssani waited for them, looking flushed and breathless and glowing with excitement.
She held out her hands, beckoning Meghianna to her almost before Efrin had closed the door of
the suite--effectively locking out the servants who lingered suspiciously in the hallways.

"I know you've already guessed," the queen said, her voice rich with laughter. "Tell me
I'm not imagining it." Then she guided Meghianna's hands to rest on her belly.

Meghianna blinked, and found herself kneeling, lost in a haze of fading, brilliant light.
Her hands still rested on Glyssani's belly. Mrillis' arm tight around her held her upright, and her
father clutched both her arm and Glyssani's hand. Meghianna would have laughed to see her
father torn between both of them, but she still felt dizzy and breathless.

"What did I say?" she whispered, and her head pulsed with one aching throb when she
turned it to look at Mrillis. The last time she had felt this way, when she touched Glyssani, her
overheard words to her sister had resulted in the siege of Tantagar.

"The third drop of blood has come into the world," the enchanter said. He drew her
closer against his side, standing and helping her get to her feet.

"I'm sorry, Meggi," Efrin said. "If we had known--"

"How could anyone know? I should know before anyone else." She tried to laugh, but
her head still ached a little. She was grateful when Mrillis helped her settle on the long couch
facing the others. "He will have enemies before he is born. I'm sorry, Papa, but I think we must
deprive you of your son for several years, until he is able to defend himself."

"Better for a little while than forever," he said, nodding, his voice a growl of grief.
"Where will you take him? The Stronghold?"

"That would be too obvious a place for our enemies to look. And my brother will have
enemies strong in magic, who might risk everything to reach into the Stronghold to find him."
Meghianna sighed as the last throb of ache turned into weariness in reaction to the draining of
the vision. "This is horrid. We should be celebrating, not planning something we will not need
until several years from now." A tiny chuckle escaped her, startling the other three. "I will not
take a teething or unweaned child into my care, no matter how precious he is to the Estall's will
and his plans for the World. When he is five or six, that is plenty of time to whisk him away into
hiding, thank you very much."

"Five years," Glyssani whispered. She nodded, and managed a brave smile. "I will have
him for five years. Oh!"

"What, love?" Efrin wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close against
him. Panic touched his eyes. Meghianna remembered that Glyssani's miscarriage had started
with a few soft pains.

"I just realized--we're going to have a son!"

Mrillis chose that moment to lead Meghianna away, so the expectant parents could
celebrate the news. He took her to her quarters, where he could give her something to wash the
ache and weariness from her body, and they could discuss her vision and her few spoken words
in freedom and privacy. They were still discussing their plans when servants came to summon
them to the evening meal. This early in the spring, Court meals were still informal, quiet, with no
ranked seating, no music, and everyone served themselves from long tables laden with dishes,
rather than servants bringing food to the seated courtiers.

Meghianna and Mrillis joined Glyssani and Efrin at a small table on the main floor,
rather than the dais. She noticed too many people trying to watch them, and felt as if she were on
display just as much as if she sat on the dais. She supposed she had grown so used to the quiet
and solitude in the Stronghold, with everyone living by their own schedules and only socializing
in the evenings, that she had grown quite unsociable. A flicker of pity for her brother, who would
live most of his life constantly on display, welled up inside her. She would certainly have to do
something about that while he was living in hiding. If only she could arrange for both of them to
disappear.

"What are you smiling about, Meggi?" Efrin asked.

"I am becoming quite the recluse, Papa dear. We welcome so few visitors to the
Stronghold nowadays, and men aren't allowed to live inside our walls any longer. I think I shall
give orders that no one will ever step foot on the Lake of Ice, let alone pass through the Mist
Gates. In a few years... don't be surprised if people begin to forget that I and the Stronghold exist
at all."

"So no one comes looking for you," Glyssani said, nodding, a smile of understanding
lighting her eyes.

"If no one comes looking for me, they won't realize I'm not there."

Too bad we can't do the same for me,
Mrillis said, and reached over to squeeze
her hand under the table.
That's the piece of our plan we kept tripping over--how to establish
you somewhere without half the World coming to you for help and leading our enemies straight
to the boy. It's a given I can't have him stay with me.

If no one remembers me, why would they recognize me when I walk among
them?
Meghianna muffled a giggle.
I've always wanted to dye my hair.

Where is the last place anyone would look for you and the boy? Some place busy.
Some place where thousands of people pass through every day.

Quenlaque,
she immediately responded.
He'll learn about the world, just
watching people passing through the port every day. I think I'll become a cook. No, I'll run an
inn, and work as a healer on the side. That will bring plenty of people to us, and teach him about
all the levels of society, all people, without anyone realizing he's learning anything at
all.

It's brilliant. Most people would expect the Warhawk's son to be hidden some place
forbidding and dangerous, with drakags and other monstrosities guarding the doors to keep
away all comers.
Mrillis paused to respond to a remark from Efrin that Meghianna didn't
hear, caught up in her plans, the dozens of new ideas and possibilities that came to her with every
heartbeat.

She thought of the port city of Quenlaque, and remembered a vision, a misty image that
had come to her three times as she sat on the last high hill looking down on the bustling,
sprawling town. In all those visions and waking dreams, she had seen a fortress sitting on the
plateau that looked down over the port. It was too far away from the center of the port to be
useful for anything but grazing sheep and cattle now, but by the time her brother was a grown
man and Efrin gave him the crown, Quenlaque would double in size. Her brother, the next
Warhawk, the third drop of blood of the prophecy, would build his fortress there on that plateau.
He would love Quenlaque and make it the center of his kingdom, and all the World would
revolve around that port city. Someday, Quenlaque would become a name of legend and
wonder.

Before the ending of all things worthwhile and strong, there will be three
drops of blood born to the bloody sword.
The daughters shall walk in light and be strong, but the son shall
overstep them.
One shall serve and one abominate and one will triumph.
One will sleep and one shall wait and one shall suffer.
They shall do so forever, and yet even to forever there is an
ending.
The blood drawn from the third shall open the doors and smooth the
road and waken the sleeper.
Protect the strong and vigilant, so that the three drops of blood may
come.
Though you look for the abomination, you will not find her until she has
destroyed innocence. Keep her from the blood drawn from the blood, or all is
lost.

About the Author

Michelle Levigne has been a book addict since kindergarten, starting with Dr. Seuss and
graduating to the
Happy Hollisters
juvenile sleuth series, then an abridged two-volume
set of Rudyard Kipling found in her parents' bookshelf (fell in love with Mowgli and Kim)
before detouring through a flirtation with
Star Trek
in fifth grade (who is better, Trek's
Dr. McCoy or
X-Men
's Dr. McCoy?) before being captured by the
Black
Stallion
like all the other girls in her class. In junior high, she fell captive to Greco-Roman
mythology and found
The Odyssey
after watching an old Kirk Douglas movie on rainy
Sunday afternoon. (And some people still believe her when she says she read it in the original
Greek.) Then in senior high, the addiction took over her life and she became a pusher--she
started
writing
.

The
Zygradon
books, which are original to Uncial Press, have a firm
foundation in the Mary Stewart
Merlin
books (
The Crystal Cave, The Hollow Hills,
The Last Enchantment)
, which she discovered in college. During a brief flirtation with
fanzine publishing, influenced by a friend who wrote
Fantasy Island
stories (yes, that
long ago!), she wrote a
Fantasy Island
episode where the daughter of King Arthur,
awakened from an enchantment, became Mr. Roarke's ward and came to the island to find
Excalibur. When will the descendant of that story show up in the
Zygradon
books? Be
patient. There's a lot of history to explore and enjoy.