Death of a Darklord

He reached out, fingers touching her cheek. "Elaine, open your eyes, please."

She opened her eyes. A gentle smile touched her lips. It was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

"Blaine, you're all right." Her voice was soft, almost rough, as if her throat hurt.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

Her blue-green eyes blinked up at him. "I'm fine."

He smiled. "I don't believe you."

She glanced at his arm. "You're hurt."

"Konrad fixed me up. I'm more worried about you."

"Why?" She looked puzzled.

He smoothed her hair back from her forehead. Her skin felt blessedly warm. "We sent for a mage."

A frown line appeared between her eyes.

"You nearly died, Elaine. Your skin was cold as ice. We got you home and bundled you up with hot bricks, bed warmers, anything we could think of. But you stayed cold." He answered the question in her eyes. "We don't know what happened to you. Tereza sent for a mage. Even Jonathan agreed to it."

"He agreed to let a mage in the house?" Her voice held soft astonishment.

"We were all scared for you."

"But Jonathan doesn't allow mages inside the house. He almost put" us out when he found out about my visions."

"Visions are not the same thing as real magic."

Elaine smiled. "I remember the arguments."

The household had been divided. Mo one really wanted a mage in the house, but neither did anyone want to turn two young children out. It hadn't been until Tereza sided with those who wished to keep the children that Jonathan had relented.

Jonathan Ambrose was a mage-finder. It was what he did, who he was. He had been a virulent antimagi-cian. After he accepted Elaine and her visions into the household, he had become more understanding, not so quick to condemn everything supernatural as witchcraft. He accepted that Elaine could have unusual powers and not be evil.

Jonathan said Elaine had broadened his mind, and he would always be grateful for that. Without anyone saying it aloud, the twins knew they were loved.

"Is the mage here?" Elaine asked.

"I don't know. I've been here since they put you to bed."

"You're hurt. You need to rest, not sit in a chair."

He gri

Elaine blushed. "I had to go."

"And I had to be here when you awoke."

Elaine reached her hand out to him. They held hands quietly, no more talking. They didn't need words.

There was a knock at the door. Konrad opened the door without waiting for an answer. "The mage is here. Does Elaine feel well enough to come downstairs, if we help her?"

"Why? Can't the mage come upstairs?" Blaine asked.

"Jonathan won't allow the mage out of the kitchen. He says just inside the back door is far enough."

"Do you feel well enough to go downstairs, Elaine?" Blaine said.

"I think so." She sat up carefully, arms bracing against the bed.

Blaine gripped her arm. "You're shaking."

"I'm not cold, but I feel weak. I'm not sure I can walk downstairs."

"Then I'll carry you."

"You'll be lucky to get yourself down the stairs," Konrad said. He stepped fully into the room. "I'll carry Elaine myself."

Blaine opened his mouth to argue, but he realized that Konrad was right. He might be able to limp down the stairs, but he'd never be able to carry anyone.

Konrad was already leaning over the bed.

"I'll need a robe," Elaine said.

Konrad straightened. "Of course. I forget sometimes that you're not a child anymore." He turned around in the room as if a robe would magically appear. Then he turned back to Elaine. "I don't see it."

"It's in the wardrobe."

Konrad moved to the tall, oaken wardrobe that stood against the far wall. He opened the carved doors. Clothes were neatly folded on the many shelves; dresses and a blue robe hung on pegs to one side of the shelves. He pulled the robe out and handed it to Elaine.

"Turn around, please."

"Blaine has only one good arm. Do you really think he will be able to lift you so you can dress?"

"I will dress myself," she said.

Konrad gave a soft snort. "You are too weak."

She clutched the robe in her arms. "Turn around." It was an order.

Konrad sighed, but turned his back, arms crossed over his chest. His straight back said plainly that he considered it all very silly.

Elaine raised herself on her arms, elbows locked. Her arms shook slightly with the effort. Her lips were a narrow line, breath held. The white gown she wore covered her more than some dresses Blaine had seen her in, but that wasn't the point. He didn't understand why a thick gown was more shameful than a low-necked dress, but it was to most women. Or at least to Elaine. He knew better than to argue.

He held the robe out so that one arm was partially open for her. Elaine leaned her back against the headboard, using it to prop herself up. She shoved one arm into the sleeve. He shifted as far as he could to tuck the sleeve on her shoulder. Pain stabbed up his leg. He fell back in the chair, gasping.

"If you would let me help, we could be headed downstairs by now," Konrad said.

"Mo," Elaine said. Her voice was loud, but breathy.

"Modesty is a virtue, Elaine, but this is ridiculous. Let me turn around."

"No!"

It began to dawn on Blaine, for the very first time, that Elaine wasn't this careful around any other man in the house, including the servants. Blaine was sometimes slow on such things, but once an idea hit him, it didn't leave. Elaine liked Konrad.

Blaine glanced from the man's stiff back to Elaine struggling into her robe. Konrad was a widower, able to marry again. He supposed that Konrad was handsome; Blaine had just never considered him in that way. Certainly not as a prospective husband for his sister. He'd never considered any man as that.

Elaine lay back, gasping, on the pillows, the blue robe pulled tight over her chest. Her blue-green eyes stood out fever-bright against her pale skin. Her light wavy hair fell around her face like a golden curtain. She looked almost ethereal. With a shock that went all the way down to his toes, Blaine realized his sister was beautiful. It was a shock, and almost frightening. How had he never noticed?

The question was, had Konrad noticed? He had never seen any sign that the tall warrior thought of Elaine in that way. Of course, until today he'd never thought of her that way, either.

"Can I turn around now?" Konrad's voice was thick with scorn.

Elaine seemed too tired to notice. "Yes," she said.

Konrad turned around. His darkly handsome face was set in a frown. Because he was looking for it, Blaine saw the wince in Elaine's eyes. It distressed her that Konrad frowned at her. Darn. That Konrad's opinion mattered to her that much bothered Blaine. It was silly, but he was jealous. The moment he realized it, Blaine pushed it away from him. He let it go. If the dour Konrad could bring his sister happiness, then who was he to complain? Of course, if Konrad hurt her, that was a different matter. Keeping one's sister safe was a brother's job, wasn't it?

Konrad pulled back the covers. Elaine drew the robe closed over her gown. Without being asked, he picked up her slippers from the floor and slipped them on her stockinged feet. It was a curiously intimate gesture.

He tied the robe's sash with abrupt hands, as though she were yet a child.

Two bright spots of color burned on Elaine's cheeks. She was careful not to look directly at Konrad's face; she couldn't bear to meet his eyes.

He lifted her in his arms, as if she weighed nothing. Elaine put her arms around his neck, face pressed against his shoulder. She looked pale and ill and lovely in Konrad's arms. And entirely too much at home for Biaine's liking.

"Can you make the stairs by yourself, Blaine? If not, I can come back up and help you down."