Coulta awoke from another dream about watching Teeya die and was stunned to realize he couldn't move. He was in no pain, but he felt so drained of energy that he could barely move his fingers without effort.

What had happened to him? Everything was dark, but he could feel soft sheets against his bare skin. So he was in bed, but if it was his own, Wildas's, or any other he didn't know.

"Coulta?"

The bed shifted as Wildas moved close to him, and Coulta wasn't sure why he was so relieved to know that Wildas was there. He managed to turn his head, but his throat was rough when he tried to speak.

"Don't push yourself," Wildas told him gently as he grasped Coulta's hand. "Do you remember what happened?"

Coulta wasn't sure if it had been a dream or reality, so he responded by asking in a croak, "Battle?"

He just barely made out Wildas's nod in the dark. "Varin led an army of magically-controlled soldiers against us. You stopped him just before he killed me."

Coulta cleared his throat. "How?"

"Shelton claims you called upon my ancestors to seek vengeance. He'll be able to explain it better than I can, I know, but the spirits used you to kill Varin."

That entire idea seemed strange to Coulta, but he knew he could ask Shelton for a better explanation. "Is that why I feel so exhausted?"

Wildas nodded again. "Shelton thinks it will take you several days to gain back your strength. Do you need anything now? Myri left you some water and some herbs if you want tea. She thought you'd wake up at some point and I offered to stay with you so she could take a break from healing."

"Just water," Coulta answered. "Thank you."

Wildas kissed his cheek, then slipped out of bed. He helped Coulta sit up, then held the cup of water to his lips. Coulta was annoyed by his weakness but didn't complain. He also accepted Wildas's help using the chamber pot without arguing when he realized he wouldn't be able to walk to the privy.

Once they were settled comfortably in bed again, Wildas said, "There are two important things I need to tell you." He cleared his throat before saying quietly, "Varin killed my father."

Coulta was stunned. "What?" he gasped. Even given the situation, he hadn't expected the Grand King to die.

He cleared his throat again. "Varin killed him, before he turned on me."

"What does that mean?"

This time Wildas drew a deep breath. "It means I have to become the Grand King much sooner than I wanted to. You're obviously my Second King, and Anil and Myri are our Queens. Tomorrow, just after dawn, we have the ritual pyre for my father, where I'll announce that Shelton is ruling in my place until you are strong enough for the coronation ceremony. It wouldn't be right to do it without you in better health, and everyone will understand that you used so much magic that it exhausted you completely. But you'll need to listen to Myri because it wouldn't be appropriate for Shelton to stay in power for more than a month."

Coulta nodded, still feeling overwhelmed. "I will. What else did you need to tell me?"

Wildas was quiet for a moment, then whispered, "When my ancestors' spirits used your body, they broke the curse."

That was a bigger shock than hearing that Deandre was dead. For a moment he could hardly breathe.

"Shelton didn't tell me what it means," Wildas added warily.

"Asema told me," Coulta told him, trying to recall the conversation with Shelton's friend. "She said if the curse ever broke it would be because of something that would have killed both of us. She also said that the soul-link between us wouldn't end, that it was something my mother did in response to the curse, but really isn't tied to it. And the magic that sustained the curse would become a second force of magic I could use, and that it almost has no limits."

"That's incredible," Wildas murmured. "Will that make you more powerful than Shelton?"

Coulta nodded. "So she claimed."

"And you're certain the link between us is still there?"

The hesitancy in his husband's voice cut through Coulta's heart. And, while it was true that his nightmare that night had woken him before Wildas's comforting presence had appeared, he still knew, deep in his heart what the answer was. "Yes, and if I could move I would prove it. Do you not think it is?"

Wildas moved closer and pressed his face to Coulta's cheek. "I just worried that you didn't."

It was so frustrating, not being able to put his arms around the person he loved most, so he slowly forced his arm to move until he was touching Wildas's shoulder. It took all the remaining strength he had to turn his head and kiss Wildas firmly.

Wildas returned the kiss, then caressed Coulta's hair as he murmured, "Get some more rest. I'll be right here if you need anything."

"Thank you," Coulta whispered.

"I love you," Wildas said as he kissed Coulta's forehead.

Wildas left Coulta when Myri woke him at dawn. Coulta hadn't woken again during the night and was still sleeping when Wildas went to prepare for his meeting with the court before the procession to his father's funeral pyre. He felt like Coulta as he dressed in the black silk clothes that had been set out for him. Even Shelton was wearing a black robe when he entered the room, though there was a small violet dragon over his left breast, the mark of the court sorcerer. Wildas also noticed that he looked exhausted, and he wondered if Shelton had slept at all.

"I suggested the meeting take place in your office," Shelton told him. "How's Coulta?"

Wildas finished with the ties on his shirt as he answered, "Still sleeping, as far as I know. He woke sometime in the night, though. I told him what he needed to know."

"Including the curse?"

Wildas nodded. "How are you doing?"

Shelton forced a small smile. "Managing."

Wildas wished he could do something to help, but he couldn't even think of the proper words to say. So he simply took a deep breath and motioned to the door. "Let's have this over with."

Prince-General Ruairi was complaining as they stepped into the office, "We should be on our way to the pyre, not having some meeting. The war's over. We need to have the funeral and the coronation before the day is over."

"There will be no coronation today," Wildas declared.

Ruairi had been sitting with his back to the door, and spun around at the sound of Wildas's voice. He wore a clean uniform with a black armband, as all of the soldiers and Guardsmen were for the time being. "Why not?" he demanded.

"Until Coulta has recovered from the battle enough to go through with the ceremony, Shelton is in my place as ruler."

"We were told he wasn't injured," Ruairi countered.

"He wasn't," Shelton replied. "He used more magic than he should have been able to, however. It will take him several days to recover to the point where the ceremony will be possible."

"How did he use more power than you?"

Wildas glanced at Shelton, who looked rather annoyed. "Coulta had received no formal training in the use of his magic before arriving here. I have been working with him, but he is not well-trained enough to truly control the magic he wields or to understand his limits. That comes with years of training, not a month."

Ruairi didn't look satisfied with that, but didn't continue to argue.

Only Shelton and Wildas were required by tradition to attend Deandre's funeral pyre, but Yvona, Rohan, and almost all of Wildas's other siblings went with them, as well as fifty Guardsmen. Both Anil and Myri were working with the healers, replacing those who had continued working overnight, and of course Coulta wouldn't be out of bed for days yet.

Wildas rode directly beside Shelton – both of them on borrowed horses – through the city and out onto the battlefield that was still littered with debris. People watched them move through the city, then followed the procession in silence.

The pyre was already set up high on the cliff just a short distance from the outer city wall. Deandre's body had already been placed on the logs and had been watched over through the night by Guardsmen. A small crowd had gathered for the funeral, but Wildas was surprised to see that most of them wore green uniforms. They weren't the rough green of Varin's army, but the crisp green of soldiers from Algoma.

It wasn't surprising that the soldiers at the watchtower across the river knew what had happened the day before. The one hundred soldiers stationed there would have crossed at the ford slightly upriver immediately if the signal flag had been raised requesting aid. What did surprise Wildas was when he and Shelton dismounted and the captain of the Algoman soldiers stepped forward.

He bowed, then said in a slight accent, "Queen Cyra sends her regards and sympathies. If Algoma can help in the rebuilding process in any way, all Phelin needs to do is ask."

So the soldiers had some sort of magic message system, it seemed.

"Thank you," Shelton told the captain.

Wildas echoed the thanks and added, "The offer is much appreciated."

The captain bowed again and stepped back into the ranks of his soldiers.

The pyre was lit and Wildas stood with Shelton, silently watching it burn. The citizens from the city tossed small gifts and paper prayers on the fire to show their respect, and even the Algoman soldiers did so before returning to their side of the river.

As he watched the fire burn, Wildas found himself thinking of his memories of his father. It was hard for Wildas to remember any time when Deandre had treated him the way Shelton and his mothers had; as something more than the heir to the throne.

But those few memories did come to him then, bringing with them a wave of sadness. Deandre helping him onto a full-size horse for the first time, giving Wildas his first sword, taking Wildas hunting... And the almost forgotten conversation when Deandre had pulled him aside at Wildas's wedding banquet: I know you assume I'm only happy because you finally married, but I truly am happy that you found what you wanted.

Wildas hadn't believed his father then, and he wished he had. How much of his memory of his father was only him thinking he hadn't been treated with respect and affection? What if Deandre had showed that he cared, but Wildas hadn't wanted to acknowledge it?

He fought the lump in his throat as he caught himself regretting his choice never to speak to his father about how he felt. Perhaps they could have had a better relationship if he had.

He mentally shook himself. It was useless to think such things now. Nothing could be changed. He glanced at Shelton and saw that the sorcerer was putting obvious effort into not showing emotion. Wildas's heart broke for him. No matter what his own relationship with his father had been, he knew there had been love among all of his parents.

If Coulta had died, he'd be unable to function. Shelton's ability to lead in such a time was amazing, but he wanted to have the coronation as soon as possible so Shelton could have the chance to mourn like he surely wanted to; in private.

Anil had spent most of the afternoon at the stables tending to the injured horses. All the horses that would not recover from their injuries had been quickly killed. The rest were not in serious condition, though some required their wounds to be sewn up, then checked regularly to be certain the stitches hadn't been rubbed out. Horses were good at such things, and she was convinced they did it to make their masters work more.

It was dark by the time she returned to the castle and found something in the kitchens for dinner. The servants there were even more flustered than usual when she asked just for something she could easily eat as she walked to her room. The way their rooms were arranged, she had to enter through either of her husbands' offices, then their bedchambers until she got to her door, which was in Wildas's chamber.

She was startled when she found Wildas in his chamber, staring at nothing in particular by the light of a single lamp. It was rather eery, and she moved close to him.

"Are you well?" she asked gently. "I thought you'd be with Coulta."

Wildas rubbed his rough face. "Shelton is trying to help him with his new magic. I thought I'd sit over here where I'm out of the way."

"Would you like company?"

"If you'd like," he replied.

He was sitting on the sofa, which left enough space for her to sit beside him. She hesitated, then gently took his hand. He surprised her by grasping her hand firmly.

"Coulta's doing well?" she asked.

Wildas nodded. "He's still far too weak to even sit up without help, but he'll recover. The ending of the curse changed his magic quite a bit, though. Apparently he's more powerful than Shelton. Or he will be, once he recovers."

"How is that possible?" she asked, amazed.

"The magic that comes from a broken curse has nearly no limit," he answered. "That's what I was told. But he can't hide the marks on his skin anymore, and Shelton doesn't know why. If it's something he can't control now, we'll need to think of an explanation for them."

Anil squeezed his hand. "It'll all work out," she assured him. "If it is permanent, Shelton will think of something believable."

Wildas just nodded, but she could tell he wasn't convinced.

"None of this is easy for you, is it?" she asked quietly.

He made a sound that might have been a forced laugh. "I'm not ready for this."

She squeezed his hand. "Of course you are. You have Shelton to help you, and we're all here with you, too. You're not going through anything alone."

His hand squeezed hers and he nodded, though his other hand moved to wipe his eyes. She barely thought as she reached up and pulled his head down against hers, letting her fingers comb through his chestnut hair. He put his arm around her and pressed his face to her hair.

They stayed like that for a long time, until Myri entered the room from Coulta's.

"Thank you," Wildas murmured as he let Anil go.

She smiled softly and squeezed his hand one more time. "Of course."

"Do you need anything?" Myri asked, giving Wildas a concerned look. "I know you're having a difficult time. I could make you something to help you sleep."

"I'm all right," he assured them as he stood. "I'm just going to stay with Coulta in case he needs anything."

Myri looked at Anil. "I think Coulta's bed will fit all of us. It just might be a little cozy."

"I think so, too," Anil said in agreement. "Just let me change."

"You both don't need to stay with us," Wildas said, looking tired.

"But we want to," Myri argued. "You need support and comfort right now, and it's our responsibility to give that to you. Even if it's just by sleeping beside you."

Wildas sighed, but finally nodded. "Thank you."