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PROLOGUE

Sunday, 9:00 a.m.

On this extraordinary June day, only a week away from the summer solstice, Cael Ansara watched and waited as the conclave gathered in their private meeting chambers here at Beauport. He and he alone knew just how momentous this day would be for the Ansara and the future of their people. Two hundred years ago, his clan had lost The Battle with their sworn enemy and been all but annihilated. The few who survived had found solace here on the island of Terrebonne and, generation by generation, had grown in strength and numbers. Like the proverbial Phoenix, the Ansara had risen from the ashes, stronger and more powerful than ever.

One by one, the members of the high council came together this Sunday morning as they did once a month, speaking quietly among themselves, comparing notes on the family’s various widespread enterprises as they waited for the Dranir to arrive. Judah Ansara, the all-powerful ruler who was respected and feared in equal measure, had inherited his title from his father. From their father.

What would the noble council say, what would they think, how would they react, when they learned that the Dranir of the Ansara was dead? As soon as word came in that Judah had been killed, Cael knew he would have to act fast in order to take control and secure what was rightfully his. Naturally, he would pretend to be as shocked as everyone else, and would make a great show of mourning his younger half brother’s brutal murder.

I will even swear vengeance on Judah’s behalf, promising to hunt down and kill the person responsible for his death.

Cael smiled, the corners of his mouth curving ever so slightly. Even if several members of the clan suspected him of being behind Judah’s murder, no one would ever be able to prove that he had sent a skilled warrior to eliminate the only obstacle in his path to ultimate power. Nor would they be able to prove that he had been the one to bestow a spell of ultimate strength and cunning on that warrior so that he would be equal, if not superior, to his opponent. All would soon learn that Judah the Invincible had been defeated.

At long last, after a lifetime of being the bastard son, of waiting and plotting and planning, he would soon take his place as the Dranir. Was he not the elder son of Dranir Hadar? Was he not as powerful as his younger brother, Judah, perhaps even more so? Was he not better suited to lead the great Ansara clan? Was it not his destiny to destroy their enemy, to wipe every single Raintree from the face of the earth?

Judah claimed that the time was not right for an attack, for all-out war, that the Ansara clan was not ready. At the last council meeting, Cael had confronted his brother.

“We are a mighty people, our powers strong. Why do we wait? Are you afraid to face the Raintree, my brother?” Cael had asked. “If so, step aside and I will lead our people to victory.”

At the very moment he had confronted his brother, Cael had already made his plans and had been preparing assignments for the Ansara who looked to him for guidance. He had endowed each young warrior with protective spells. First, the most fearsome of his followers—Stein—would kill Judah. Then Greynell would strike a deadly blow to the very heart of the Raintree, in their home place, the land that had been the family’s sanctuary for generations. After that, Tabby would eliminate the Raintree seer, Echo, to prevent her from “seeing” what devastating tragedies awaited her clan.

Unfortunately, only one member of the council had agreed with Cael. One of twelve. Alexandria, the most beautiful and powerful female member of the royal family and third in line for the throne, was his first cousin. She had once been Judah’s faithful supporter, but when Cael promised her a place at his side if he were to become the Dranir, she had secretly switched allegiances. What did it matter that he had no intention of sharing his power with anyone, not even Alexandria? Once he ruled the Ansara, no one would dare defy him.

“It is unlike Judah to be late,” Alexandria said to the others now.

“I am sure there is a good reason.” Claude Ansara, another cousin, had been Judah’s closest confidant since they were boys. Claude was second in line to the throne, right after Cael himself, his now deceased father a younger brother to Cael and Judah’s father.

Rumblings rose from the others, some concerned by Judah’s tardiness, others speculating that undoubtedly there had been an emergency of some sort of which they were not aware. The Dranir had never been late for a council meeting.

Why has there been no telephone call? Cael wondered. Why hasn’t the news of Judah’s death been made known? Stein had been given orders to disappear immediately after killing Judah, and not to resurface until Cael was irrefutably in charge of the Ansara and could give him permission to return to fight the Raintree. Soon. On the day of the summer solstice.

Once the Raintree had been destroyed, the Ansara would rule the world. And he would rule the Ansara.

Suddenly the chamber doors burst open as if a mighty wind had ripped them from their golden hinges. A dark, snarling creature, his icy gray eyes surveying the room, stormed into their midst. Clad in black boots, black pants, a bloodstained white shirt and ripped black vest, Judah Ansara arrived, growling like the ferocious beast he was. The wall of windows facing the ocean rattled from the force of his rage.

Cael felt the blood drain from his face, and his heart stopped for one terrifying moment when he realized that Judah had survived the assassination attempt. He had been able to defeat a warrior fighting under a spell created by Cael’s incredibly powerful magic, which meant that Judah’s powers were undoubted

ly far greater than Cael had realized. But that wasn’t of key importance right now. Even the fact that Stein was dead was unimportant in the wake of a far greater concern. What Cael needed to know was whether Stein had lived long enough to betray him?

“Lord Judah.” Alexandria rushed to his side but stopped short of touching him. “What has happened? You look as if you’ve been in a battle.”

Whirling to face her, Judah narrowed his gaze and glared at her through sharp, shadowed slits. “Someone within my own clan wishes me dead.” His voice reverberated with the throaty intensity of a man barely controlling his anger. “The warrior Stein came into my bedchambers at dawn and attempted to murder me in my sleep. The woman who shared my bed was his accomplice and had thought to drug me last night. But they were both fools to think I would not sense danger and act accordingly, despite the strong magical spell that had been placed on Stein. I switched drinks with the lady, so she was the one sleeping soundly, while I was dressed and ready for battle when Stein slipped in through the secret passage to my quarters that only you, the council, even know exists.”

Cael realized that he must speak, must react with outrage, lest suspicion fall immediately upon him. “Are you implying that someone on the council…?”

“I imply nothing.” Judah speared Cael with his deadly glare. “But rest assured, brother, that I will discover the identity of the person who sent Stein to do his dirty work, and when the time is right, I will have my revenge.” As Judah rubbed his bloody shoulder, a fresh red stain appeared on his shirt.

“My God, you’re still bleeding.” Claude went to Judah, his gaze thoroughly scanning Judah’s big body for signs of other injuries.


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