It lay all around them, a flat plain, covered in beaten down grass and packed dirt, strewn with rocks.  All brown and gray.  The first time Sybilla had seen it she'd likened it to a battlefield after the battle ended.  The sound of mourning, of anger and disbelief, of pleading and despair were the only sounds.  The air was so still even it seemed dead.  The only thing moving were the shades of the dead.

Shades, the forms the dead retained to house their souls.  They were bodiless ghosts, drifting over the field of asphodel.  They were like shadow puppets, only they weren't.  The bodies were dead but they weren't.  The mind, the personality, the memories, the 'I' and essential self of the person was contained within the shade-puppet, keeping it together for the duration of it's time in the underworld.

After her first visit, Hades had told her the forms were mostly illusion, but necessary because even here a soul was invisible, incorporeal.  The form was the surface upon which punishment or reward was visited.  The form contained the soul until the next life.   Until the final death, where the reward the soul had earned, for good or ill, was visited upon the soul itself.  In the abyss, punishment and reward required noting corporeal.

Here the dead gathered, waiting for the boatman, for Charon to ferry them across the Acheron river, the river of pain that surrounded the underworld realm of Hades.  Hermes Psykhogogos brought the souls to the plain and Charon ferried them across the river.  On the other side the dead faced the hound of hell, the three-headed dog, Cerberus who guarded the gates to the Domos Haidou, the domain of Hades and the unseen realm.  They are led within the gates by Hermes to the palaces of Hades, to stand before him and his wife, Persephone, who ruled the underworld.  In Hades's palace they faced the three judges of the underworld.

They faced Minos first, who sentenced the most evil to eternal damnation, to the final death and unending torment.  The next judge was Rhadamanthys, who decided which souls passed on to the Blessed Isle, the Elysian Fields, where he ruled.  The rest were given over to the third judge, Aeacus, the god of lamentation and regret.  The souls consigned to him were sent to Tartarus.

Sybilla lifted the cowl of her cloak from her head, setting it back from her face so that she could see the whole horror of the plain.  The lucky ones passed over the river quickly.  The unlucky were doomed to roam the world as ghosts until they were buried or until they had the cost of passage across the river.  Regret and sorrow were real and alive in this place, a living thing, beating at her.  "The dead will try to speak to you, to enlist your help," she said to Carmine.  "You can not save them."

Carmine nodded, his face impassive. "Can we ask them if they've seen my friends?  Will they respond?"

"You can ask, though they most likely will not know.  It is Hades and Persephone whom you must petition."  Sybilla resettled the leather bag on her shoulder.  "The bough you carry you must show to the ferryman.  He is forbidden to carry the living across.  By it he will know that Persephone has granted you her favor.  Did you bring the fare?"

"Si, I have the fare," Carmine said as he extracted a coin, and drew the bough out from under his cloak as they approached the ferryman.

The shades barely noticed them, already deep within their own fear and despair, they looked at no one. Sybilla and Carmine shuffled along as the line approached the boat.

Sybilla ignored the fingers plucking at her sleeve and drew the cowl back down over her face, hiding from dead pleading with her to give them the cost of the ferry ride.  Instead she focused on Charon, standing at the plank over which the dead were crossing to board his boat.  She knew he recognized her.

Charon was a daimon, a demi-god of the underworld and had ferried her across the Acheron many times.  She had never figured out what he did with the money he was paid for his services.  He never left his boat and his ferry never ceased in its endless, repetitive voyages.

"Amalthea."  Charon said it without inflection, halting the line with a motion of his hand.  "It has been a long time since you sought entry to the land of the dead."

Sybilla lowered her cowl completely, bringing a hiss from many in the line waiting to board.  "It has been long since any called me by that name."

Charon shrugged and looked at Carmine.  "I carry only the dead.  You have no business in this place."

"Salve, Charon. I have my passage," Carmine said holding out the coin, "and the proof that I have safe passage," he added, showing the bough to the ferryman. "I would appreciate your assistance in this."

Charon made no move to take the coin.  "Your need must be great for her to have led you here and I am a ferryman only.  What assistance can such a one as I offer to the undead?"

"I am searching for friends. A dragon and her rider. I would guess not very many dragons come this way. Have you seen them?"

Charon shook his head.  "No, I have not.  But there are other ways into this place.  Worse ways."

"Where are they?" Carmine asked. "Can I reach those other entry points?"

"That is not for me to say.  Direct your petition to the Lady Persephone."  He nodded to the bough.  "She is expecting you."

"Mille grazie, signore," Carmine replied as he put a hand on the small of Sybilla's back and they boarded Charon's boat.

Sybilla covered her head once more, seeking a position near the prow of the boat, away from the shades of the dead.  She pulled the second bottle of wine from her bag, and the linen bundle of honey cakes.  "You must show Cerberus the bough and then give him these."

Carmine nodded, as he took the wine and the honey cakes. "You are all right? You know this place well?"

"I am high priestess to Persephone, and also once, long ago, to Rome.  When she calls me, I come.  Just as when Rome needed, I came here.  But as he said, it has been a long time.  So long I had forgotten the way the sorrow of this place fills one.  And the way it brings the past into the present."

"I am sorry then, cara, for asking you to come here and bringing it all back. Perhaps because of what I am it does not so affect me."

Sybilla took his hand in hers, turning his palm up so she could see it, her finger lightly following his life line.  "Do not apologize, caro mio.  To recall these things is not something bad or to be avoided.  There is no life that pain does not touch, nor one that sorrow does not color."  She touched his life line again, her finger even lighter.  "Even yours."

"E vero, cara. Even so, it grieves me beyond measure that I am bringing you pain, even if not directly. Perhaps there will be a way to repay you. Someday."

She curled his fingers over his palm and returned his hand to him.  "But you are not bringing me pain."

"I pray that may always be so, cara," Carmine said, pulling her over into the shelter of his arms, and staring at the dead who were near to them on the boat.  The dead backed away from her giving her some relief, if only by distance.

She left herself relax against him.  To deny herself the comfort he was offering her was beyond her ability.  "It is very strange, having someone worry on my behalf.  Try to believe, because it is true, that I make my own choices."

"Si. This I know, Sybilla. But that does not make one's choices any easier. And this choice is for me."

She smiled, teasingly.  "Perhaps it wasn't.  Perhaps I am not as altruistic as you suppose and it was for me that I made it, so as to enjoy your company a while longer."

Carmine smiled down at her. "Joy even in the midst of misery. It is so very Italian.  Next we'll meet Dante Alighieri taking notes.  We can assist him as writes his book."

"Did you know him?"

He smiled. "Some day I'll tell you. Not now. It is a complex story."

She tilted her head, considering him for a moment before she said, "A tale to be told over a glass of wine, while watching the sun set.  For that I can wait."

"Si, ah, we are here," Carmine said as the ferry pulled up to the dock on far side of the river.

Moans from the dead filled their ears. Carmine's lips set and his face went expressionless. "Mannaggia, what I am putting you through."

"Your care for me warms me, Carmine.  But I am infinitely better off than they.  I will be here only hours.  They will be here much longer.   I am here by choice.  They are not. To feel their pain is to learn compassion and from that I am so much richer."  She smiled again, faintly.  "So, it seems, I am in your debt."

He bowed his head in submission to her words, if not her logic. "Now we see Persephone and Hades, correct?"

"Si.  But it is Persephone whose interest you must elicit.  Hades adores her and will do whatever she asks of him.  On his own the matter of your friends would not be of much concern to him.  To him, since everyone comes here sooner or later, what difference does it make if it is a few years sooner than it would have been otherwise."

She followed the last of the dead off the boat.  "Pray as well that the Miorae and the Erinyes, the fates and the furies, are not attendent on the thrones today."

"Would they attempt to thwart us?" he asked. "Or request yet more payment?"

"They are different.  If it is the fates, so long as they stay silent, all will be well.  But one never knows.  No one's fate is immutable, that is the nature of free will.  But the fates sometimes seek the last word in one place where they have not had it in another.

"The Erinyes are the goddesses of vengence and retribution.  So they are quick to take offence and they do not forgive."

"Si, thank you for that cara. I will do my best to restrain my nature."

"Do not allow the possibility of failure to enter your mind once you are before the thrones.  And do not allow yourself to be distracted.  Many of Hades court will be there.  In hell, seduction comes in many guises and none of them lead to pleasure."

"I am a simple man, cara. And able to resist distraction when required. But I thank you for the warning."

She shook her head but said nothing.  Ahead of them, snarling at the dead, was Cerberus.

Carmine regarded the slavering multiple headed beast. "Ah, too bad Nicco is not along. He'd very much like to meet you, caro."  Carmine dropped to his haunches as he took out a honey cake and tossed it to the beast.  "There, you see. Very nice, si?  I have more."

As another head turned its attention to Carmine, the prince tossed another honey cake to it. Carmine laughed as the beast licked its lips. "Si. The lady is a very good cook, is she not?  Now where is your bowl, so that you can have some vino with your dessert."  The beast seemed to understand and stood aside as Carmine uncorked the bottle of wine and stepped forward toward the dish.

"You have a way with animals," Sybilla said.  "I think he likes you."

As Carmine poured the wine he confessed, "It is having to tame Uberto. He is a were-bear. Alas, I am too kind to him sometimes. He and Nicco have been known to start riots at football games."  He finished pouring the wine and stepped back as Cerberus, with a contented sigh, began slurping up the wine.

"He will let us pass now," Sybilla said.  "No one ever brings him treats and he has a terrible sweet tooth."

"Ah, poor creature," Carmine said as he rejoined Sybilla. "Lead the way, cara. And do not believe that I do not take your warnings to heart. It is just that as Prince I have learned to accept dangers pragmatically. It does not mean I do not respect their complexity and severity."

"It is just that knowledge is all I have to give you to aid you."

He stopped her abruptly and turned her round to face him. "And it is the most precious thing of all. Forgive me, if I make you feel I do not appreciate it."

She lifted her hand to his face, cupping the side of it for a moment before letting her hand fall again.  "You worry for me and I worry for you.  That is all."

"Si, I will accept that. Since we are bonded, I sense your worry for me. I wish to ease it."

"I thank you for that.  But it is the way of women, is it not, to worry?  Or have I been out of the world too long and women have changed?"

"There has been no woman to worry for me for a very long time, cara. But it is true, I have seen women worry for their lovers."

She blushed, helpless to control the sudden rush of heat to her cheeks or the images filling her mind at his words.  The gods help her for wanting what she could never have.

"Now is not the time. Let us arrange our emotions and deal with the distractions ahead of us. Yet another discussion for a sunset and a bottle of wine."

She took a deep breath and turned, leading him along the path towards the palace.  "We must hurry," she said.

In any other setting the palace might have been beautiful.  But in the desolate, grim landscape of Hell it was more foreboding than beautiful.  At least the dead were no longer with them, as only the two of them were approaching the palace.

Guardians were not needed here, for who would dare to threaten Hades and his bride.

Sybilla moved steadily up the steps, Carmine a pace behind her, looking neither right nor left.  At the doors, massive gold and ebony structures, carved with incongruous scenes of abundant life she never paused.  With a wave of her hand her cloak was gone, along with her jeans.  In their place she was dressed again in a black and scarlet silk stolla, with a scarlet palla edged in black and gold wire embroidered symbols of power.  Her hair was dressed high, the plaits complicated, woven with scarlet and black silk gauze, gold wire and pearls.  She wore gold and onyx at her neck, wrists, upper arms and ankles.  Kohl outlined her eyes, as black as her hair and silks.  Power clung to her, wrapped around her like the silks, as obvious, as tangible as her jewelry.

She waved her hand at the doors in the instant before she reached them and they opened inward at her command.  The attendants on the inside saw her and fell to their knees, foreheads to the floor while she swept past them, regal and serene as a queen.  Utter confidence radiated from her.  Without a word she moved through the palace, ignoring everyone, never checking to ensure Carmine was still with her.  She simply moved, graceful as the wind, as proud as the night.

At the end of the marble hall another set of doors, of gold and ebony like the last, were closed.  And these were guarded.  At the sight of her the guards stepped aside, throwing them open for her, bowing deeply.  Inside, at the end of the room stood two thrones, in the same gold and ebony.  Both were occupied.

On both sides of the room small knots of people stood, their conversation dying as they caught sight of her and her companion.  As she passed them, hushed whispers rose, speculative, curious....some malicious, some stunned.  Not a flicker of awareness showed on her face, nor changed her demeanor, no hesitation slowed her walk towards the two on the thrones.

Persephone laid a hand on her husband's arm as she approached, whispering a few words before she sat back, waiting for Sybilla to reach them.  Sybilla's body flowed into her obeisance at the foot of the four steps leading to the dais, a graceful descent to the floor, a profound bow without abasement, held until she received permission to rise.  Her ascent was as fluid, unhurried, and unstrained as her descent, murmuring,  "My lord.  My Lady."

Carmine's greeting was more restrained. He executed a courtly bow from a time long gone.  It was graceful and fluid despite the jeans, shirt and boots he wore. "Lord Hades. Lady Persephone. Thank you for allowing me entry."  He laid the golden bough at Persephone's feet.

"May I present to your graces Carmine Abrizzi, Vampire Prince of Italy," Sybilla said.

"You are welcome, Prince Carmine," Persephone said.

"What is it that brings you to our realm, Prince Carmine?" Hades asked, sitting back, apparently at ease.

"I come seeking some lost friends, Lord Hades. I do not believe they belong here, and arrived through misfortune long before the end of their natural lives."

"I am sorry to hear of your loss," Persephone said.  "It is unlikely that any would enter my husband's realm before their time, but if they have it is indeed unfortunate."

"My friends, Lady Persephone, are unusual. A dragon, Briony, and her bond-mate Malachi. They were fighting in a space battle, and the dragon attempted to rip a hole in time and space in order to escape an attack. As their prince, I have to search for them.  So long as I believe them to be alive."

Hades glanced over at Persephone and then asked, "And your part in this, Amalthea? It is not merely as guide, I think."

Sybilla inclined her head, in no way discomfited by the question.  "My part is that of friendship for a countryman, one who gives his life to guard Italy.  As do his two friends."

Hades' lips quirked up into a smile. He was a handsome man, oddly enough, for the embodiment of death.  "Shall we help them, my love?" he asked, turning to Persephone.

"I think we are honor bound to do so," she said.  She considered Carmine for a moment before turning back to her husband.  "Long ago loyalty such as his towards those who serve him and who fight at his side was less rare than it is today.  To honor such in him by aiding his quest is a duty we should not forsake."

"I am deeply grateful, Lady Persephone, Lord Hades. But you honor my friends and my country, as I am merely Italy's guardian."

Persephone frowned.  "You make too little of what you do, Prince Carmine.  Of the sacrifices you make for Italy.  We are no longer a part of the consciousness of the living.  We have been forgotten and in our place are other gods.  But our duty remains our duty.  It is the same, in some ways with you.  Those you give your life to protect know nothing of you or the sacrifices you make for them.  You guard Italy with your life and ask nothing in return, thinking yourself honored to be allowed to do so.  That is no small thing."

"You are most kind, Lady. It would be rude of me to argue with your view of things, would it not?" Carmine replied with a slight bow, making Hades laugh.

Persephone glared at her husband, her eyes filled with fell intent.  "It is ever the same.  The truly great think they are not, and those who are not think they are."

"Then you waste your breath arguing with him, my love," Hades retorted.

"Where are his friends?" Persephone asked.  "I already know you are aware of them."

"Not far from here. The dragon is well, but her companion is not. She will not leave him," Hades replied, regarding first Carmine and then Sybilla. "I will have one of my court take you to them."

Carmine bowed deeply. "I thank you, Lord Hades for your kind assistance. And you Lady Persephone for your compassion."

"I am glad we have been able to help," Persephone said.  "I regret we can not do more.  It will be up to you to ensure they are safely returned to the world above.  I can only warn you most strongly that once you set foot on the path that will lead you from the underworld, do not look back, nor allow your friends to do so.  To look back or falter is to condemn yourself to remain here for all time."

"I understand, my Lady," Carmine replied. "And if I can ever assist you or your husband, Italy is at your command."

Persephone remained thoughtful for a long moment.  Then, to Sybilla, she said, "I wish to speak with your prince privately for a moment."

Sybilla blinked but otherwise did not react, simply bowing deeply.  "Then with your leave, my Lady, I will withdraw, and await him outside."

Persephone nodded and waited until she was out of earshot.  Then she returned her attention to Carmine, waiting.

"My Lady?  What might I do for you?" Carmine asked.

"There is a thing you wish to know, that she will never be allowed to tell you."

"How to release her from the bargain she struck?" Carmine asked.

When Hades moved as if to speak Persephone stilled him with a touch on his arm.  "She made a bargain with the Akesoli.  The pain eater.  She traded a life for a life.  She swore that she would never, in any way, at any time seek to evade her promise or escape it."

"She told me as much. I, on the other hand, made no such bargain," Carmine replied.

"Then you must trade as well.  Her death for her life."

Carmine's eyebrow rose. "I thank you for that insight, my Lady."

She smiled.  "Do you?  She has told you, has she not, that to kill the demon is to kill her?"

"Si. But I seldom trust men, and I never trust demons."

Persephone reached down and lifted the bough.  She balanced in on her palms, holding it out to him.  "In that case, the day may come when you will need this again."  As she spoke, ruby and white light exploded along its length.  When it cleared, an emerald and ruby pomegranate hung from the cluster of leaves.

Carmine bowed deeply. "You are most kind. I will do my best to free her, in whatever way I can."

"So I concluded," Persephone said.  She waved her hand and the bough shrank, becoming charm sized, attached to a twisted gold chain.  "Should you succeed, I will be in your debt."

Carmine slipped the chain over his head and hung the charm under his shirt. "My Lady. My Lord," he said with a bow.

Persephone nodded.  "Prince Carmine."

Carmine turned then and walked out of the throne room to find Sybilla awaiting him in the anteroom. With her was a a small creature who bowed to him. "I'm to show you were they are. At least to set you on the path," the creature said.

"You are well?" Sybilla asked, her eyes on his.

"Very well. The Lord and Lady were most gracious. And helpful," he replied.

Something very close to fear rippled through her for a moment and then was gone.  "Then we should go," she said.

"You have nothing to fear, Sybilla. They are well disposed toward you," Carmine told her as they turned to follow their diminutive guide.

"They are gods," Sybilla rejoined.

Carmine shrugged seemingly unmoved or unimpressed by that observation.

Sybilla sighed.  "Now isn't the time for this.  We must go."

Carmine laughed. "The difference between us, cara, is that I thrive on the challenge, while you worry with regard to it. Trust me, as I trust you."

Her eyes flashed.  "We'll debate that point later as well.  For now, I'm following you, and you're following him."

Carmine grinned and set off after the small creature who was hurrying off ahead of them.

The tiny creature who was their guide, his name he told them was Freddy, took them out through the extensive gardens belonging to the palace.  They were beautiful, even if the colors were muted.  The flowers smelt of roses and gardenia.  White spikes of ginger added a more complex scent. And the scents were most welcome as the moment they stepped out the back garden gate the wind brought them far less pleasant scents.

The landscape looked to be the blasted aftermath of some sort of natural disaster. A volcanic sort of rock, devoid of any life under foot, the burnt and dark carcasses of what had once been trees. No life was visible except for the three of them.

Freddy led the way, and the path, such as it was, was wide enough for Sybilla and Carmine to walk side by side.

Carmine's face had turned grim, his eyes on the horizon, the path leading them and Freddy upward toward a windswept ridge, overhung with roiling, seething black clouds.

They struggled in the volcanic ash that covered the pathway, which made the footing treacherous. Steep cliffs fell away on either side of them, into deep canyons whose bottom they couldn't see.

As they crested the hill they saw a dark clad figure standing by the side of the path watching them. Its face was hidden in a cowl that covered its head.

Carmine loosened the stiletto in his sleeve watching the specter or whatever it was carefully for any sign of hostile intent.  Carmine moved to stand between the figure and Sybilla.

As they came abreast of the figure, a voice said, "Salve Carmine."  The man, for man it was, threw back his cowl hood.

Carmine froze. It took him a moment or two before he replied, "Salve Darius. I had not expected to see you here. I had hoped you had earned your reward in Heaven."

Darius held out his arms to Carmine, who walked into them without hesitation.

Darius was bigger, more muscular than Carmine, a man who stood and moved like a warrior.  He turned dark eyes on Sybilla as he hugged Carmine to him.

"Salve," the man said to her, eying her with narrowed eyes, seemingly reluctant to set Carmine free.

Sybilla set her cowl back, revealing her face.  She inclined her head slightly.  "Salve."

"Sybilla, this is Darius. He was.. is.. my turnsire.  My friend."

"And his lover," Darius added, watching Sybilla.

Sybilla allowed a smile to inform her features.  "Then it is my hope that you pleased him."

"I have missed you," Carmine said, stepping away a bit from Darius. "All these years and I have always missed you."

"All these years?  Time passes... differently... here. For me it seems only yesterday that you and I were happy.  Are you still killing Medicis?" Darius asked.

"No, they are long since gone. I am now Prince of Italy, charged with protecting her from all threats."

Darius laughed. "The little mouse turned into a prince."  Then he looked over at Sybilla. "And you have a sibyl to guide you through the underworld. Why are you here, since I doubt you came for me."

"I have two friends here," Carmine replied. "They are not true dead. I came for them," Carmine explained.

Sybilla stepped back away from the two, moving to where Freddie waited.  "I will wait for you a little further on, il mio principe."  She bowed slightly to both men and glided away.

Both watched her walk away, then they turned back to one another. "I would help you if I could," Darius said.

"This I know.  I have hated myself for centuries for not being able to save you."

Darius laid a hand on Carmine's shoulder and stared hard into his eyes. "Not acceptable. My choice, my right to save you. Promise me you will finally forgive yourself."

"Darius..."

"Promise me!" Darius thundered. "I am still your turnsire."

Carmine looked up at the great man and nodded. "Si. I so promise. I love you, Darius."

"And I you, little mouse. So go on with your journey. Trust no shade."

"Not even you?" Carmine asked him.

"No, not even me."  With that, Darius disappeared.

Carmine stood, staring at the place where Darius had been. His shoulders sagged for a moment, but then he turned and walked over to join Freddy and Sybilla. "Let us go on."

Sybilla started to say something and then stopped.  She took a deep breath, wiping all evidence of her feelings from her face and voice.  "Si.  You follow him and I will follow you."

They walked for a time through the desolate landscape before Carmine said, "I suppose the heartbreak is part of the payment for coming here."

What was there to say to that?  Everything that crossed her mind seemed trite, hackneyed, words that diminished.  "The gods meant it as a kindness when they separated the underworld from the world of the living."

He nodded.

She swore silently.  "Caro mio, I would give you peace if I could.  Know that one day his soul will return to the world of the living and the love you shared, that you still feel will help pay the price of his passage out of this place."

He turned to meet her eyes.  "He should have been Prince of Italy."

"He may still be."

Carmine stopped walking. "Could I trade my life for his?"

"You would take his place here?"  Her voice was a thin thread, almost stifled by the adrenalin that was slamming through her veins.

"Si."

"It would cost more than your life."

"What else?" he asked her, his eyes hard.

Sybilla could feel her nails digging into her palms as she fought herself to stay dispassionate,  "That I can not answer.  It is not I who would set the price."

Carmine nodded. "Once we free Briony and Mal then I wish to speak to whomever does."

"Il mio principe..."

"Si?" He asked, looking at her for the first time since Darius had left them.

In that moment she hated herself with a passion she had not felt since her time as an acolyte.  Even if she refused to arrange the meeting he could take the information from her mind because of the bond she had so impulsively, so selfishly created between them.  She'd made a vow to never fall in love again and for close to two thousand years she'd kept it.  Then she'd seen his face in the moonlight, caught his scent as it mingled with jasmine, felt the timbre of his beautiful sorcerer's voice and she'd been lost.  Fight it, deny it, try to escape it...it didn't matter.

She could help him or stand by and watch him do it without her.  This then was the punishment the fates had decided upon for her meddling.

She stared at him, at his beautiful face and his eyes, glittering like ice, filled with death and just shook her head.  "We must go."

"Si. Time runs short. How far yet, Freddy?"

Freddy pursed his lips, his expression that of a child who was having trouble with his sums.  " A ways, but not too far."

"Grazie, Freddy. Then take us there as quickly as you may."  Carmine held out his hand for Sybilla. "You look unwell, cara."

"Do not distress yourself.  I am well enough," she said, taking his hand without thinking about it.

Carmine sensed her grief the moment he touched her. He stopped and turned toward her. Putting a hand on each of her upper arms, as if holding her so she couldn't flee. "I owe him everything, Sybilla. Everything."

Her temper flared.  "Then know if you do this thing that no matter the price demanded of you, it will not equal the price paid by those who love you.  It is your debt, but others will pay the interest on it."

He abruptly let go of her. "Aiie. This place is truly a Hell."

She didn't flinch.  "Should I lie to you, my prince?  Or pretend?  To interfere in the decisions of Miorae is never allowed to go unpunished.  If you would do this thing then I can do no other than take you to the one you seek, but I will fight for your life with every step I take as I do so.  And he would want it that way."

His head swung around and he regarded her through narrowed eyes. Then he sighed and looked away, sinking to his knees.  He sobbed.

She was there beside him before she knew she'd moved, holding him close before she had time to be afraid of his rejection.  "He loves you.  The greatest gift you can give him is to live, to fill your life with the love and joy he so desperately wishes for you."

"Love and joy," he replied as his tears stopped. "What love and joy?  Aiee. I am an idiote. I am sorry, cara. You do not need such things in your life. It is difficult enough without me adding to your burdens."

"You are truly an idiote if you think you are a burden to me," Sybilla said flatly, making no attempt to hide her annoyance.

"Si. Quite right. I cannot be a burden to you."  He stood, and held out a hand to help her up. "Let us keep our minds on why we are here. All distraction to keep us from finishing our task."

She glared at him.  He was impossibly arrogant and she had the feeling he was amused by her, a faintly superior male amusement.  Still, it didn't stop her from taking his hand and allowing him to help her up.

"Tell me, cara. Is it a function of being a demi-god that makes you so impossible?"

If it hadn't been beneath her dignity she'd have sputtered in outrage.  She smiled sweetly instead.  "No, caro.  It is a feminine gift I practice daily to annoy arrogant men with."

"And most effective, cara," he replied dryly.  "Freddy, lead on.  Do warn us if any shades are waiting in the wings."

She sniffed and followed him without a word.

Carmine saw Briony the moment they came over a ridge line. His annoyance, his anger, his frustration fell away as he hurried toward where she was curled up asleep.

She sensed them approaching, even in her sleep and her body curled even tighter around the body of her companion.  Her teeth bared, she was snarling even before her eyes opened.

"Signorina Briony, it is I, your friend. Do not fear. We've come to take you home."

She couldn't have been more surprised by the sight of him, his features emerging as he put back the cowl of his cloak.  "Signore.  Forgive me.  I had not thought to see you here.  A lack of understanding on my part."

"It is quite all right, cara. You must have felt I'd abandoned you. I beg forgiveness to have taken so long to find you. May I see Malachi?"

She shifted her tail, uncoiling it and her body from around him.  He was deeply unconscious, his breathing almost indiscernible.  The bruising on his face had faded to pale yellow shadow, mostly hidden by the growth of his beard.  The lacerations and burns on the exposed skin were scabbed and angry looking.  His clothing was in tatters, his tunic stiff with dried blood.

Tears glittered in Briony's jewel eyes.

"Il mio dio. How can we get him out of here and get him help, Sybilla, per favore. Oh, Malachi," Carmine said softly as he touched the young man.

Sybilla was already on her knees next to him, her hands moving over his body, her eyes closed, her face immobile with concentration as she focused all of her attention him.  He had several broken ribs.  His left leg and arm were broken.  There was infection from his wounds, the poison already in his blood.  Her hands lingered over his abdomen, and then again around his skull.  It was there that she stopped, sweat beading on her forehead, the color draining from her face.

She stayed that way for an eternity.  When she opened her eyes it was to look at Freddy who was waiting patiently for her to rejoin them.  Then she rattled off a list of instructions, demanding water and herbs and wine, wood for splints and linen for bandages.

Freddy nodded, and said he would help as much as he could.  Not very reassuring.

"Can we not move him?  Take him to help?" Carmine asked.

"No."  She didn't look at him as she spoke, already busy with Malachi.  "We must splint his leg and arm or risk him losing them.  That I can manage if Freddy returns in time.  I can also dress his other wounds.  But his skull is fractured, there was bleeding and the blood is trapped.  Also there are internal injuries."  She looked up then.  "For me to heal him will take much strength.  I will need help and I can not rely on our guide."

"What must I do?" Carmine asked simply. "Anything."

"You must trust me absolutely.  No matter what happens, no matter what you think is happening you must trust me.  You must allow me into your mind so that I can draw on your strength.  Otherwise you will have to give him your blood."

"And you think this way he will not be changed?"

Sybilla sank back on her heels.  "I won't lie to you, either of you.  You and he will tied together.  To use your strength to heal him will leave a shadow of you within him.  It will not turn him, as your blood would do.  Nor is it a blood tie such as I created between you and I.  It is more a residue of knowing, of something caught out of the corner of your eye.  You will always be aware of him and he of you.  So you both must choose for him.  This kind of binding or the binding of being his turnsire."

"Si. Briony, you know his heart and his mind. Would he wish us to do this? Do you wish us to do this?"

"He would wish to live.  I can not let him die."  Briony touched Malachi's face with her nose, inhaling his scent.  Then she looked at Carmine, her head bent protectively over Malachi.  "He trusts you, caro.  As do I."

"Si. We will try it as Sybilla wishes. If that fails, I will turn him," Carmine said to Briony. "He will not be lost to you."

Sybilla nodded once, all hesitation gone.  "Then, caro, I suggest you make yourself comfortable.  If it would be easier for you I can give you unawareness, an unknowing that is a kind of sleep.  It is not always easy to open one's mind totally to another."

"I would prefer you not do so, Sybilla, but if you must and I cannot allow you the access you need, then please do so," Carmine replied, lying down next to Malachi. "Mio caro amico," he said, as he cast one last look at Malachi before he composed himself and closed his eyes.

Sybilla waited until he was settled.  Then she took Malachi's hand and withdrew into herself, leaving Briony to guard all three of them.  She sought and found the binding between her and Carmine.  She used it as a road, sending the essence of herself, a wisp of light and warmth along it, leaving her body totally behind.  She entered Carmine's mind carefully, alert to any resistance, any attempt to keep her out.   When none was immediately apparent, she began searching for the place within his mind where that which was most essentially him arose from, the place where he drew all his strength from.

It was a well guarded and fortified reservoir, an almost magical place. It connected to Italy with an infinity of tiny strands. Also to the other Princes of the Council, connecting all of Europe through the blood and through the magic of the vampire princes. She knew when Carmine saw her standing at the closed door to this fortress from which all that emanated. His mind met hers, saw into it in a way that made her gasp, and then he opened his mind to her.

She gasped again at the power he held, the reservoir of strength.  She studied for a moment, puzzling it out.  Then she touched it, a total immersion and merging of herself as heat and light with his strength.  Then she entered Malachi's body.  She went slowly, carefully.  They didn't have much time so she took the time now to see and understand what was wrong.  She couldn't afford to miss something now that would cost her time later.

Sybilla felt a slight, gentle touch in her mind, It was Carmine. Reassuring her to follow her instincts and not think too deeply.  She felt his total trust and confidence in her abilities. And, she felt something more, admitted.

She set it aside to examine later and began the painstaking task of healing Malachi's brain from within his skull.  She reknit the torn veins, stopping the slow leak of blood between the brain and his skull.  Then she began to push the blood out through the fracture line and then the pores in his scalp, reducing the pressure on his brain.  When she was sure she'd removed all of it and that she'd reduced the swelling as much as she could she began to close the fracture.

Satisfied, she moved on to the internal injuries.  His liver and spleen were badly bruised, the surface of the liver friable.  There was blood in the cavity of his body.  And there was infection in his blood, spreading through his body.  She started with the liver, focusing on one task at a time.  The liver, the spleen and then his ribs.  She pushed the pooled blood out through his pores.  Then she focused on the poison in his blood.

She'd left Carmine aware, and he was pouring not only energy and power out for her to use, but also assurance, reassurance, pride in her, every kind of encouragement he could.  Where he was drawing that much energy from she wasn't sure, but it was a bright stream of endless energy to empower her to help Malachi.

Last of all she attended to his fractured arm and leg.  She was weary beyond anything she'd ever experienced when she finished, slowly withdrawing from Malachi's body, gently, carefully separating herself from Carmine, withdrawing back into her own body.  She was drenched in  sweat, aching with tiredness when she opened her eyes again.  She had no idea how much time had passed.

Malachi wasn't cured.  But he was healed enough that they could move him, carry him from this place and return him to the world of the living where time, coupled with his own body and the care of his friends would do the rest.

Briony's jeweled eyes rested on hers, the first thing she saw as she came back to herself.

"For what you both have done, there are no thanks that are sufficient," Briony said.

"It has been only the lady, Briony. She found a way to help me reach you and now she's stabilized Malachi. Can you now take him home, cara?"

"If you can secure him to my back," Briony said.  "I could not risk it before."

"Si, we will do that. He should be moved and taken to my physician immediately,"  Carmine said as he began to fashion straps by tearing up his shirt.  The remains of Briony's fighting harness were still on her, chafing her nearly raw, but Carmine was relieved that it was so, as it gave him something to strap Malachi to most securely.

When he'd finished he frowned, as he regarded it. "I believe it will do. Perhaps you should take the Lady Sybilla with you. She is exhausted from her efforts."

"No."  Sybilla said it firmly, giving Briony no chance to respond.

"Cara," Carmine said reasonably. "We have only a few hours to leave here. It would be wiser..."

"And do you know the way out?"

Carmine met her eyes. "Si. I do."

He was lying.  "Then you lead and I shall follow, just in case you get lost."

"Mannaggia!" he muttered. "Briony, cara mia, do you take Malachi home. Your children have missed you. We will follow as soon as we can."

Briony looked at them both and then just disappeared.

Sybilla eyed Carmine.  "Which way?"

"First I need to rest," he replied, sinking backwards against a rock.

"And then you will need to fight for your life, Carmine Abrizzi," said a voice from behind them.

She stepped out into the lighter area from the shadows where she must have been watching them.

"I did not sense you, Ruffina," Carmine said.

"No. When you took my head that ended our relationship. Magical, vampiric, marital. And now I will kill you and make you live here for centuries too.  Tell your new lover to stand aside."  She was tall, beautiful. A fiery redhead.

"Sybilla, meet my ex," Carmine commented with a slight smile.

Sybilla wanted to snarl.  Instead she moved so that she was between Ruffina and Carmine.

"Sybilla, if you care about me at all you will stand aside and do nothing. This is mine to do."  His voice was all Prince.

Sybilla stiffened.  Wiping all expression from her face, refusing to look at Carmine, she pinned Ruffina with a look.  "If he dies you will die the final death and the agony of your eternity will be beyond anything you can comprehend."  She said it without drama, a simple statement of fact.  Then she moved aside.

Ruffina lifted her sword, Carmine drew his.

"It was cowardly, my prince, to slay me as you did," Ruffina said as she advanced on him.

He raised his sword to parry hers, almost effortlessly. "It was a mistake. They'd left a body in our bedroom, the head gone. I thought you were already dead. I.. the blood lust came over me. I reacted when you came down the stair."

"So you claim. Why should I believe it?" she hissed at him.

"Because you know when I lie to you," he said simply. He brought his sword up in a salute and met her eyes. "Meet my eyes and behold the truth, Ruffina."

Instead she brought her sword around aimed at his neck. But he was faster.  Once again he watched her head bounce merrily down stone steps.

He sighed and sank to his haunches, burying his head in his hands.

Sybilla watched the body and the head become ash.  Ruffina was gone but she'd ensured her prince would never be free of her venom.  By making him kill her again she plunged it deep.

He was hanging on by a thread.  She approached him carefully, burying every ounce of the pain she felt for him.  She sank down on her knees so that she was at eye level with him, making certain she did not touch him as she settled herself to wait for however long it took.  "What do you want?" she asked after several moments, her voice soft.

"I want us to get out of Hell. Can you walk?" he asked.

"Yes."  She rose gracefully to her feet and held her hand out to him.

He took it and let her help him up.  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I lied to you, I don't know the way out, but I promise you, I would have found it."

"I have not a doubt of it, caro.  The exit is that way."  She pointed to his left.  "You can see that the horizon is lighter.  Once we start to climb you can not stop nor can you look back.  You will think I am not behind you but you must not believe it.  You must not look back to check."

"Or I will turn into a pillar of salt?" he joked.

"Something like that," she answered.  "It would be most uncomfortable."

"Then follow me. However, I will know that you are there. We are bound."

She fell in behind him obediently.  "That is still something perceptible to the senses and during the climb your senses will lie to you.  You must believe what you know with your intellect."

"Si," he replied and began the climb. He had to slow several times, but as she'd directed him he did not allow himself to stop. It was arduous and he was already weary, weary in a way vampires are not used to be.

"What you are feeling caro, is this place.  Believe what you know, not what you feel," Sybilla said from behind him.  "This is a place of spells, and the traps of sorcerers."

"Si," he replied, setting his teeth and forcing one foot in front of the other.

She trudged behind him, narrowing her focus to the step she was taking and the sound of the one he was taking.  She was so aware that time was running out, she could almost hear the seconds ticking by and she forced that from her mind as well.  They would make it in time or they wouldn't.  She didn't have the energy to worry about it.

And then the light became blinding and Carmine disappeared into the brilliance ahead of her.

She swallowed her panic and closed her eyes as she took the next step, feeling her way forward.  It was illusion, nothing but illusion she told herself as she felt for the next step after that.  Don't believe it, don't give into it.

"Will you know when we are out of Hell, cara?" Carmine asked. "How?"

"You will know," she said.  "The light will be real, not gray.  And the air will move, scented with life, not death.  She looked up as she took the next step.  "We are almost there."

From ahead of her she heard him say, "Take my hand, cara. I smell night jasmine."

She clasped his hand, closing her eyes at the feel of his fingers twining with hers.  Tears burned in her throat as she took the last steps, coming out into the cleanness of the night.

He pulled her into the circle of his arms and kissed her. Deeply, demandingly, as he held her tightly against his body.  She moaned into his mouth, giving herself up to the kiss, melting into him.  There was only him and his mouth plundering hers, his body hard and hot against hers and the desire exploding in her veins, turning her blood to fire.

He broke the kiss after what seemed an eternity. "Cara... I beg... Forgive me."

She blinked at him, trying to focus, her eyes hazy with want.  "Forgive you?"

"I am taking advantage. We are tired, and I sense through the bond.."

She shoved her hands against his chest, needing the space away from him so she could think.  He wasn't making any sense.  She frowned at him, trying to understand.  Then she shook her head.  She didn't want to think and he didn't need to make sense.  He just needed to keep kissing her and there was only one way to be sure that happened.  And she was woman enough to do it.

She put her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her.  "Oh just be quiet and kiss me again," she ordered him, claiming his mouth, her kiss as demanding as the one he'd initiated.

He obliged.

When she finally needed to come up for air, he regarded her. "What I sense through the bond is.. true?"

She nodded, solemn as a child.  She could feel herself start to tremble inside.  "I did not mean..."  She stopped and swallowed.  "I know it is not possible, that I can not....that your life is such that it can not be.  It is not your fault and I would never burden you with..."  She broke off, trapped in that jumble of sentences, not knowing how to explain that she knew he was not for one such as she.

"Hush," he said softly, putting a finger to her lips. "Let us go somewhere, get cleaned up, rest. Make sense of this," he said, and adding mentally to himself that he needed to call to be sure Mal was all right.

His finger felt like a brand on her lips.  It was all she could do not to take it in her mouth and savor it the way she wanted to savor him, every single inch of him.  "Where would you suggest?"  Her cave was absolutely out.  If there was even the remotest possibility then her pallet wasn't the place.

"Come with me to the villa."

She took his hand.  "Picture it, as clearly as you can, the place you want to be."

He concentrated and pictured his study.  A fire in the fireplace, soft lighting, the door walls open to the garden, the scent of lemon trees and geraniums, the breeze cool tickling her nose.

He pictured it and they were there.

He ran a hand through her hair, and then someone was rushing in through the door. It was someone small and sobbing.

"Nicco," Carmine said, letting go of Sybilla to pick up his mage. "Is it Malachi? Is he not doing well?"

"No, Malachi is doing much better. I was worried for you!"

"Ah, si. As you can tell, I am well, as is Sybilla. Will you have someone ready a room and draw the lady a bath. I'll be up for one myself, unless you think I should see Malachi?" Carmine asked.

"Mal is sleeping. Nicki wants to see you though," Nicco explained.

"Ah, yes, she would. Will she wait until morning? I am very, very tired."

Nicco looked at Carmine and then at Sybilla and then back to Carmine. "I will explain to her," Carmine's grand mage said.

"Grazie, Nicco. Now, go see to the baths."

The mage winked at Sybilla and ran out of the room.

She laughed softly and turned to Carmine.

"Come. They will see to clean clothes for you as well. Will you allow me to join you after your bath?"

"Si.  If that is your wish I would like that.  But you are tired."

"I expect I will feel better once I am clean," Carmine replied.

Her eyes danced.  "In that case signore, I should be delighted to see you after you have bathed."

She was expecting it and still his knock made her heart slam in her chest.  She forced a semblance of calm into her and finished drawing the hairbrush through her hair.  Then loosely knotting the hip-length strands she rose and opened the door, stepping aside to let him enter.

She let her eyes appreciate him.  "You look like you were correct."

"I fed as well. And you?" he asked, eying the food on the tray just inside her door. "May I pour you wine?"

"Please," she said, closing the door.  "It sounds lovely.  As is your home, by the way."

"I fell in love with this villa the first moment I saw it. It took me several centuries to get my hands on it," he said as he poured wine and handed her a glass. He put a hand to the small of her back and led her over to the french doors that opened onto a patio.

The patio was bathed in a bit of moonlight, and the moonlight lit the garden below. The scent of damp earth and flowers arose from the garden. Carmine led Sybilla over to the rail and leaned on it, looking out over the view.

"I cannot thank you enough for what you have done. I've come to love Malachi and Briony. I did not wish to contemplate this villa without them."

"I am glad I was able to do so," she said, half turned towards him so she could see him and the garden at the same time.

He reached out with one hand and ran it along her jaw line. "I sense that you want this, but I also sense a hesitancy. As if you think it unwise. Doomed almost."

She smiled, self deprecation plain.  "Who am I to aspire to one such as you?" she asked.  "And I have done nothing but force myself into your life."

"Says the demi-god," he replied with a smile.

"An accident of fate, nothing more.  I survived where others did not.  I am still the child of simple people who left me with the sibyl because they needed the money she paid for me to feed their other children."

"And I am a boy sworn to the church who suddenly had a sword at his throat making his whole life to change." He shrugged. "Both our beginnings were a long time ago."

She turned fully towards him, tracing his jaw with her fingers.  "In truth, I can not find it in me to care what is wise and what is not, nor about what will follow this moment.  What matters to me is not adding another shadow to the ones that turn in your eyes when you think no one is looking.  That I could not bear."

"You are too aware, Sybilla. You frighten me sometimes."

"It is too late to change what I am.  And, unfortunately, with you I can not pretend.  I will leave if that is your wish."

"You know it is not my wish." He slid his hand behind her neck and pulled her roughly into a kiss.

"Thank the gods," she whispered, stepping closer, surrendering her mouth to his blatant demand for possession.

He leaned down, not breaking the kiss, to slip an arm around under her knees. He picked her up easily and carried her to the bed.  He laid her gently on it and feasted on her there with his eyes, not touching her once he'd set her down.

She felt his eyes on her body like a touch, lighting flames under her skin everywhere they touched.  The desire in his eyes, the sheer, naked want on his face made her stomach clench, sent heat pooling in her core.  He was so beautiful he made her ache just looking at him.

He undressed as she watched him, dropping the simple cotton clothing, slacks and shirt on the floor. He'd been barefoot.  He stepped forward then and put one knee on the bed beside her. Still he didn't touch her, but stared into her eyes. "Yes or no, cara. The last time I will ask."

She lifted her arms, a smile curving her lips.  Naked, he made her mouth go dry.  "Yes," she said, her voice clear and sure as she tangled her fingers in the dark hairs curling on his chest, the pads of her fingers pressing, learning, delighting in him, as her hands caressed their way around his neck, pulling him closer.  "Yes."

His lips began exploring her. Her temples, her eyelids, her ears, her neck.  He began undressing her then, one button at a time, unwrapping her and delighting in what he revealed. His lips drifted lower as more and more of her was revealed.

His lips were like a brand on her skin, a scalding, silken fire bringing every nerve to quivering life.  Never, in all the years of her life had she ever felt like this. No man's touch had ever done this, had her arching closer so helplessly, pressing herself closer, her hands clenching his arms.  No man had ever made her want him to devour her, made her hope he would, or ensured that she was willing to beg him to, if that's what it took.  No man had ever made her feel like her body wasn't hers but instead had become totally his to do with as he pleased.  No man but this one and he made it feel like that was the way it was supposed to be.

Despite her need and obvious desire for him, he took his time.  Exploring, tasting, teasing, bringing her desire to white-hot burning need. Then he pleasured her, entering her carefully, kissing away tears that stained her cheeks as she gasped with the shudders of orgasm. Only when she thought she would die, she was so exhausted and sated, did he finally allow himself to climb the heights toward his own fulfillment.  And by then she was so attuned to him that he took her plunging over the edge again, with him this time, both of them together into the inferno of pleasure that he created for them, his name a soft scream on her lips.