The room to which the little girl had brought them was enormous. It spanned the width of the ridge, with two windows, one on each side. If they pushed open the shutters, they could see the hallway and, through the hallway window opposite, the sky. Brian knew this because he opened both and peered out. The sky was black now, except for the pinpoints of light forming the stars. The moon had not yet risen. He closed the second window, the one on the far side of the room and turned to Justin. He was sitting on the edge of the bed. The bed itself was quite large. Brian could have been two feet taller and still stretch out on it, and five people could have slept in it comfortably. The bed posts were made of a light, light brown wood. In them were carved images of the Huntress and the Shining One, Brian imagined. On one post, the woman's hair was falling out of a braid, which reached her lower back. She was glancing behind her, but she appeared to be running. She didn't look scared, but rather determined and even a little angry. The man was behind her. He was tall with broad shoulders and a face so round it looked circular. What was most striking was his eyes. Brian couldn't say exactly what it was about them that he found unique, but he was momentarily captivated by them, so much so that he forgot where he was and what he was thinking for a few seconds. Two of the other four posts depicted the Shining One chasing the Huntress and the fourth, him catching her. Here the Shining One was caressing her cheek. She seemed as captivated by the Shining One's eyes as Brian had been, and she actually looked stricken, terrified. Her eyes were wide, her mouth open slightly. Brian shook his head, as though to clear it, and looked back at Justin. Justin was now picking at the fabric of his pants and staring at the floor.

In the language of the Keep, Justin suddenly spoke. He said, his voice soft, his words tentative, "I wonder. What the girl say …"

"You wonder if it's true?"

Justin nodded.

Brian shrugged and shook his head once more. "I don't know." Then he sighed and sat on the bed next to Justin. After a long pause, he repeated, "I don't know." And after yet another, he said, "We still haven't talked about it."

Justin lifted his head until his eyes met Brian's. "What?"

Brian's eyes widened. "The mysterious appearance of pillows in the cave. The way I was able to protect you from the magical crows. The way you brought me back to life."

Justin shook his head frantically. When he spoke, he sounded like he was out of breath, or hyperventilating. "No. I didn't do."

Brian's eyes darkened. In a monotone, he said, "I was dead."

Justin shook his head again. Several times in fact. Now his voice was firm, though still frightened. "No."

"I was dead, and you know it."

"No." Justin looked down. "No."

Brian closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them, Justin was in the closet, sitting on the floor, his back against the stone wall.

Brian laughed. "What are you doing in there?" The bigger question was how Justin had gotten up without making the bed move. Brian was constantly amazed by Justin's stealth.

"The room … too big. Feel … open. Vulnerable." But it wasn't just that. Justin needed to separate himself from Brian, particularly Brian's words. Brian's death.

And Brian knew it, without understanding how. Still, the room was huge, a bit smaller than Brian's back at the Keep, but still three times the size of Justin's basement.

Brian smiled at Justin, choosing to focus on Justin's unease in lavish surroundings, that is, until Justin started rocking back and forth. A single tear rolled down his cheek. Brian stood and walked over to the closet, but he didn't enter. Not at first. Instead, he sat on the floor, cross-legged, right in front of the door.

Brian hesitated (he was certain he would find whatever it was disturbing, maybe painful) before finally asking, "What's wrong?"

Justin looked over at Brian and opened his mouth, but no words came. When he finally managed to speak, he said only, "I want … I want …"

Brian swallowed hard. "What?" He repeated like a mantra in his head, 'Don't say it. Don't say it.' He wasn't sure exactly what he was afraid Justin would say. Just that it would involve sadness, fear, and regret. Brian wasn't 'happy' to be tasked with saving his people, not exactly, but he couldn't wish it away because that would mean wishing Justin away. And that he could never do.

Justin closed his eyes and exhaled a shuddery breath. Then in Vigan, he said, "I want my old life back."

Brian stiffened.

"I want to eat bread and drink coffee with Daphne in the morning and then go to the market and draw pictures of tourists during the day." Justin laughed, but there was no joy in it. I want to hide from predators in the Quarters at night and visit Emmett sometimes, when I'm really, really tired."

Brian clenched a fist, and also in Vigan, asked, "You sad we meet?"

Justin gasped. His eyes widened. "No! No." Then looking directly into Brian's eyes, from which Brian could not banish his fear, Justin repeated firmly, "No. Never." After a pause and a sigh, he added, "But why can't we still be in my little basement? Touching and kissing. Not caring about the world outside."

"I also want. But …"

Justin sighed. "But your father wouldn't have let us be happy there. I know. I know." Justin pulled Brian into the closet and then straddled him, burying his face in Brian's neck and holding him tight. Justin was crying now, really crying. "You did die, Brian. You were dead. And I don't know how I saved you. What if you die again, and I can't … I can't do it again?"

Brian slid his arms around Justin's waist and whispered, "You scared? Did you see? I was … frightening. When you scream … I became … I don't know. Frightening. Everything people say … like my father."

"No. No! You are not your father. You could never be. Fierce is one thing. Cruel is another. You could never be cruel."

"I burn him. He covered in flames. Screaming."

"He attacked us. He hurt me. What else could you do?"

"Not that." After a pause, Brian repeated, "Not that." He switched to his own language then. "But I'd do it all over again. As frightening as I was. I'd do that and much, much worse to anyone who hurt you. That's the scariest part. There is nothing I wouldn't do to protect you." In a husky whisper, he added, "Nothing."

Justin didn't know what to say. So he just held Brian tighter.

Brian laughed suddenly. "Still, Markus would be amazed at my skill with Luna. At my mother's insistence, he started teaching me how to fight. But he said I didn't have sufficient concentration to ever excel at swordplay. If only he'd seen." Brian laughed. "If only he'd seen."

Justin pulled back and smiled a little shyly. "You were … beautiful."

"Beautiful?"

Justin blushed. "And… sexy."

Turning back to Vigan, Brian said, "Basa?" (Sexy?)

Justin smiled brightly. "You remember?"

"Ossa ubaphersu." (Everything you say.)

A moment later, Brian was on his back, Justin lying on top of him, Justin's lips on Brian's, Justin's tongue in Brian's mouth.

Markus and his men had traveled almost nonstop for two days and two nights. They had followed Brian and his lover along the river to the base of a large oak (where they'd found the remnants of a fire), to the mountain and up, until they spotted a well-lit cave. The cave of some middle-aged wise woman. Somehow she'd known they were coming. When they approached, she stepped outside. In Micoran, she said, "It's about time you arrived. If you don't hurry, you'll miss everything." Markus, none too gently, pushed her into a chair just inside the mouth of the cave. He was still standing just outside, his men a few feet behind him. A gentle breeze blew, and their armor clinked softly in its wake. He hissed, "Where have Prince Brian and his lover gone?"

"You mean King Brian."

"His father yet lives. He is but the crown prince."

"No. He is the true king. You of all people should know that."

"Why me of all people?"

"Because you know who his mother is."

Markus frowned. Then he barked to his men, "Start back down the mountain. Look for tracks leading away, toward the valley. I'll meet you shortly." Once they departed, he growled, "What do you know of the Queen?"

"She is not Queen."

In a flash of silver, Markus drew his sword and pressed the tip to her jugular. "Say that again, and I'll slit your throat."

The woman just laughed. So hard in fact that the tip of the sword nicked her. Blood ran in a tiny rivulet down her neck, staining her white blouse. "She might be your Queen and the mother of the true heir, but she is not the one. She is not destined to change the world. Not as Queen."

Markus resheathed his sword. He shook his head. In a softer voice, he said, "I do not understand."

"Yes, you do. You knew long ago that she was special and not just because you loved her. You've seen her powers. You had to have wondered whether she was the heir to Suzanne's line."

Markus swallowed hard.

"She could have been, but fate has laid out another path for her. Your shared sorrow was not for nothing. It allowed her to give birth to our salvation. Having done that, her life is now her own. And she has made it her own, has she not?"

Markus just stared.

"What made you the man you are, what damned you, will save you. Have faith and, when the time comes, choose the righteous path and you will attain the happiness you feared you would never know. It's not too late."

"You're crazy old woman."

"You do not believe that. In the days and months to come, you will have a chance to be the boy who once chased butterflies…"

Markus grabbed Debbie by the throat then, pulling her out of the chair and out of the cave and then pushing her up against the external wall. "How do you know about that?"

"I'm a seer. The gods have blessed me with the ability to see the past and the future. I look at you and do not see the man you have become, but the little boy you once were. So full of light and hope. Reclaim that light, that hope, and you will help to set the world to rights. Continue to dwell in the darkness and you will be lost forever. And your daughter along with you."

Markus released Debbie. She fell to the ground. "How…how do you know about her?"

"I already told you."

"And the Queen?"

"Her fate is tied to yours."

Markus backed up slowly, shaking his head, his eyes wide. Then he turned and walked away. Quickly.

Brian had Justin's pants down and off and was about to take his manhood into his mouth when the bedroom door opened. Daphne gasped, "Oh my!" and turned away, though she did not leave the room. Ted and Michael entered after her. Brian sighed and sat back on his calves. Justin scrambled to get his pants back on. Brian snapped, "What are you doing here?"

Daphne peeked over her shoulder and, seeing that Justin was dressed once more, she turned all the way around. In Vigan, she said, "Our rooms are too big." She actually shivered then. "It's creepy. I'm used to sleeping in the pantry on the floor, Ted in a tiny dark novice cell, and Michael in the corner of his mom's cave. Can, can, we sleep in here with you?"

Ted added helpfully, "We'll sleep on the floor."

Brian frowned. He was about to say no when Justin jumped up, smiling, and said, "Yes. Yes. Stay here." Brian sighed and buried his head in his hands.

TBC…