Having made the temple more gruesome and disturbing than Tina could have imagined, the Baron sat down outside the cell that she had conjured and spoke earnestly to her.
“In part, my dear, you and your lover are right. You do have to take power if you want it. In times like these, heroes and heroines are made. If you hadn’t taken the opportunity I set up for you, I’d have been disappointed in my judgment of your character.
“Such times also make villains. My rule here is about to end, and I want my overthrow to be a legend that lives on for generations.
“That’s why I’ve let my involvement with the occult become publicly known, as assiduously as I concealed it for many, many years before. Since death took my parents and sister, my beloved Adrijana, and all the friends of my youth, and progress has forced me out of my role as valley protector, I’ve let the area around Falcon’s Rest go to seed and conscientiously terrorized it—one cannot build a legend starting with fat, contented peasants. There must be suffering, or at least the perception of suffering, before release.
“So you, my dear, can now become a heroine, rescued tonight by a man who becomes a hero. For your sake, I hope he will be the ‘real lover’ you’ve been cultivating these last few months.”
Tina gasped at the knowledge this revealed.
“But there are others whose arms you may end up in. Perhaps the strong quiet stranger who’s leading the mob, or possibly even that braggart Farmer Zrinski, who first stirred it up.
“Oh, yes, I saw more in the smoke last night than you did, my dear!
“Whom you draw as your hero is your problem, not mine. But another concern is both of ours. It’s too early for you to tell, but you’re now heavy with my child.”
Tina gasped again and jumped off the rug to press against the bars and glare at the Baron.
“You’re destined to be a witch. But witches, even more than wizards, are a barren lot. Because the natural forces that sustain magic are the same that sustain life itself, a pregnant witch’s powers fade as she swells. Her enemies—oh yes, you will have enemies!—rally to take advantage. It’s often a fatal situation. When it’s not, her child becomes her enemies’ target, at least at long as he’s weak and growing. Unless she sends him away or disguises him.
“And one more thing, the important thing to me, this son … yes, a son, will carry on the special Rostov heritage.
“I had hoped that simply letting Mother Nature take its course would produce a magical heir, but such has not been the case. My preparations for this evening have been ten times more elaborate than you suppose them to be … as you will see.
“In the meantime …”