his glass in a salute. "Just so."
Saetan smiled. "If we hold back half of each dose so that it's lost most of its potency and then mix it with the fresh dose . . ."
"We'll have a restorative tonic that has a tolerable potency," Geoffrey finished, looking pleased.
"If she finds out, she'll kill us," Prothvar grumbled.
Saetan raised an eyebrow. "All things considered, my fine demon, it's a little late to be concerned about that, don't you think?"
Prothvar almost blushed.
Saetan narrowed his golden eyes at Andulvar. "But we didn't know it would lose its potency until after you asked for a second dose."
Andulvar shrugged. "Most healing brews have to be taken shortly after they're made. It was worth the gamble." He smiled at Saetan with all the arrogance only an Eyrien male was capable of. "However, if you're admitting your balls aren't as big—"
Saetan said something pithy and to the point.
"Then there's no problem, is there?" Andulvar replied.
They looked at each other, centuries of friendship, rivalry, and understanding reflected in two pairs of golden eyes. They raised their glasses and waited for the others to follow suit.
"To Jaenelle," Saetan said.
"To Jaenelle," the others replied.
Then they sighed in unison and swallowed half their tonic.
7 / Kaeleer
Not quite content, Saetan watched the lights of Riada, the largest Blood village in Ebon Rih and the closest one to the Keep, shine up from the valley's fertile darkness like captured pieces of starlight.
He had watched the sun rise today. No, more than that. He had stood in one of the small formal gardens and had actually felt the sun's warmth on his face. For the first time in more centuries than he cared to count, there had been no lancing pain in his temples, no brutal stomach-twisting headache to tell him just how far he had stepped from the living, no weakening in his strength.
He was as physically strong now as when he first became a Guardian, first began walking that fine line between living and dead.
Jaenelle and her tonic had done that. Had done more than that.
He'd forgotten how sensual food could be, and over the past few days had savored the taste of rare beef and new potatoes, of roasted chicken and fresh vegetables. He'd forgotten how good sleep could feel, instead of that semi awake rest Guardians usually indulged in during the daylight hours.
He'd also forgotten how hunger pangs felt or how fuzzy-brained a man could be when he was beyond tired.
Everything has a price.
He smiled cautiously at Cassandra when she joined him at the window. "You look lovely tonight," he said, making a small gesture that took in her long black gown, the open-weave emerald shawl, and the way she'd styled her dusty-red hair.
"Too bad the Harpy didn't bother to dress for the occasion," Cassandra replied tartly. She wrinkled her nose. "She could have at least worn something around her throat."
"And you could have refrained from offering to lend her a high-necked gown," Saetan snapped. Then he clenched his teeth to trap the rest of the words. Titian didn't need a defender, especially after her slur about the delicate sensibilities of prissy aristo witches.
He watched the lights of Riada wink out, one by one.
Cassandra took a deep breath, let it out in a sigh. "It wasn't supposed to be like this," she said quietly.
"The Black were never meant to be Birthright Jewels. I became a Guardian because I thought the next Witch would need a friend, someone to help her understand what she would become after making the Offering to the Darkness. But what has happened to Jaenelle has changed her so much she'll never be normal."
"Normal?Just what do you call 'normal,' Lady?"
She looked pointedly at the corner of the room where Andulvar, Prothvar, Mephis, and Geoffrey were trying to
include Titian in the conversation and keep a respectful distance at the same time.
"Jaenelle just celebrated her fifteenth birthday. Instead of a party and a roomful of young friends, she
Saetan smiled. "If we hold back half of each dose so that it's lost most of its potency and then mix it with the fresh dose . . ."
"We'll have a restorative tonic that has a tolerable potency," Geoffrey finished, looking pleased.
"If she finds out, she'll kill us," Prothvar grumbled.
Saetan raised an eyebrow. "All things considered, my fine demon, it's a little late to be concerned about that, don't you think?"
Prothvar almost blushed.
Saetan narrowed his golden eyes at Andulvar. "But we didn't know it would lose its potency until after you asked for a second dose."
Andulvar shrugged. "Most healing brews have to be taken shortly after they're made. It was worth the gamble." He smiled at Saetan with all the arrogance only an Eyrien male was capable of. "However, if you're admitting your balls aren't as big—"
Saetan said something pithy and to the point.
"Then there's no problem, is there?" Andulvar replied.
They looked at each other, centuries of friendship, rivalry, and understanding reflected in two pairs of golden eyes. They raised their glasses and waited for the others to follow suit.
"To Jaenelle," Saetan said.
"To Jaenelle," the others replied.
Then they sighed in unison and swallowed half their tonic.
7 / Kaeleer
Not quite content, Saetan watched the lights of Riada, the largest Blood village in Ebon Rih and the closest one to the Keep, shine up from the valley's fertile darkness like captured pieces of starlight.
He had watched the sun rise today. No, more than that. He had stood in one of the small formal gardens and had actually felt the sun's warmth on his face. For the first time in more centuries than he cared to count, there had been no lancing pain in his temples, no brutal stomach-twisting headache to tell him just how far he had stepped from the living, no weakening in his strength.
He was as physically strong now as when he first became a Guardian, first began walking that fine line between living and dead.
Jaenelle and her tonic had done that. Had done more than that.
He'd forgotten how sensual food could be, and over the past few days had savored the taste of rare beef and new potatoes, of roasted chicken and fresh vegetables. He'd forgotten how good sleep could feel, instead of that semi awake rest Guardians usually indulged in during the daylight hours.
He'd also forgotten how hunger pangs felt or how fuzzy-brained a man could be when he was beyond tired.
Everything has a price.
He smiled cautiously at Cassandra when she joined him at the window. "You look lovely tonight," he said, making a small gesture that took in her long black gown, the open-weave emerald shawl, and the way she'd styled her dusty-red hair.
"Too bad the Harpy didn't bother to dress for the occasion," Cassandra replied tartly. She wrinkled her nose. "She could have at least worn something around her throat."
"And you could have refrained from offering to lend her a high-necked gown," Saetan snapped. Then he clenched his teeth to trap the rest of the words. Titian didn't need a defender, especially after her slur about the delicate sensibilities of prissy aristo witches.
He watched the lights of Riada wink out, one by one.
Cassandra took a deep breath, let it out in a sigh. "It wasn't supposed to be like this," she said quietly.
"The Black were never meant to be Birthright Jewels. I became a Guardian because I thought the next Witch would need a friend, someone to help her understand what she would become after making the Offering to the Darkness. But what has happened to Jaenelle has changed her so much she'll never be normal."
"Normal?Just what do you call 'normal,' Lady?"
She looked pointedly at the corner of the room where Andulvar, Prothvar, Mephis, and Geoffrey were trying to
include Titian in the conversation and keep a respectful distance at the same time.
"Jaenelle just celebrated her fifteenth birthday. Instead of a party and a roomful of young friends, she
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