A strangled sound came to the mage’s ears. Lan spun and saw Inyx with her fingers firmly wrapped around Kiska’s throat. The dark-haired woman slowly choked the life from her victim.

“Inyx, no!” he cried. Ducasien placed a hand on Lan’s shoulder to restrain him. Lan cast a minor spell that hurled Ducasien across the room. A second spell sent Inyx after him, leaving Kiska alone and gasping for air on the floor. He went to her and knelt, cradling her head in his lap.

Emotions boiled within Lan. He hated her for all she had done. She was insane, a cold-blooded murderer. And he loved her. He had to protect her at all costs.

“Lan Martak,” came Krek’s voice, “she attempted to stab you in the back. You saw. You know of her treachery.”

“I love her,” he choked out. His heart leaped with joy when he saw her muddy brown eyes flicker open and focus on him. Lan read only hatred blazing up at him and it didn’t matter. He loved her.

He had to. That was the curse laid upon him.

“Good riddance,” snarled Kiska k’Adesina. She stood close beside Lan Martak on the mountaintop. The circle of energy surrounding them held the acid rain at bay and gave them a clear view of the tiny procession wending its way across the barren plain to the graveyard. Lan watched and felt a coldness inside grow until he wanted to scream. Inyx gone. Krek gone. His friends had abandoned him because he was unable to break free of Claybore’s spell binding him so tightly-so cunningly!-to Kiska. He didn’t want them to leave, yet his actions had driven them off.

There’d be no more of Krek’s odd observations on life and the worlds they explored together. Inyx would no longer be there to comfort him or defend his back during battle.

The thought of Inyx in Ducasien’s arms sent rivers of hot tears rolling down his cheeks.

Lan Martak clenched his fists and shook with emotion.

“You don’t need them. You have me. What were they, anyhow? A slut and an overgrown bug. You love me, Lan my darling. We can rule together.”