Read Greek Series 02 - Dark Prince for Free Online

Parmenion of his cancer, I watched him grow young before my eyes. I thought it was the healing.'
    'You can be young also. You can find your dream again.'
    'You are a magus - and yet a fool,' she told him, her voice flat, her tone tired. 'Parmenion is married; he has three children. There is no place for me now. We may be able to meddle in the futures - but the past is iron.'
    Aristotle stood and moved to the door. There he turned as if to speak, but shook his head and walked away into the darkness of the Temple corridor.
    Derae listened until his footsteps faded, then sank to the bed, Aristotle's promise echoing in her mind: ‘I can make you young again.'
    He was wrong, she knew. Oh, he could work his magic on her body, strengthening her muscles, tightening her skin.
    But youth was a state of mind. No one, god or man, could give her back her innocence, the joy of discovery, the beauty of first love. Without that, what value would there be in a young and supple body?
    She felt the rush of tears and saw again the young Parmenion standing alone against the raiders who had abducted her; lived once more the moment when he first held her.
    'I love you,' she whispered.
    And she wept.

*
    Before allowing herself the luxury of sleep, Derae traced the lines of three protective spells on the walls, door and window of her room. They would not stop a seeress with the power of Aida, but any disruption to the spells would wake Derae in time to protect herself.
    It was almost five years since the last attack, when Leucion had died defending her against the demons sent by the sorceress. Since then Derae had heard little of Aida. The Dark Lady had left her palace in Samothrace and journeyed back to the mainland - travelling, according to rumour, to the northern edges of the Persian empire, there to await Alexander's coming-of-age. Derae shivered.
    The child of Chaos, soon to be a destroyer such as the earth had seldom witnessed.
    Her thoughts turned to Parmenion and she climbed on to the bed, covering herself with a thin sheet of white linen.
    The night was warm and close, the merest breath of breeze drifting in through the open window. Seeking the sanctuary of sleep, Derae pictured Parmenion as he had been all those years ago - the bitter young man, despised by his fellows, who had found love in the tranquil hills of Olympia. Moment by moment she savoured the heady joys of their five days together, stopping her memories short of that awful morning when her father had dragged her from the house and sent her in shame back to Sparta. Slowly, dreamily, she drifted into a new dream where strange beasts
    -half-horse half-man - ran through forest trails, and dryads, beautiful and bewitching, sat by sparkling streams. Here was peace. Here was joy.
    But the dream moved on and she saw an army marching, cities ablaze, thousands slain. The warriors wore black cloaks and armour, and carried round shields emblazoned with a huge sunburst.
    At the centre of the horde rode a warrior in a black cuirass edged with gold. He was black-bearded and handsome, and she recognized him instantly. Yet there was something about him that was strange, different. Floating close to him, she saw that his right eye was made of gold, seemingly molten, and she felt the black touch of his spirit reaching out like ice and flame to freeze and burn.
    Recoiling she tried to flee, seeking the peace of the enchanted wood where the centaurs roamed. But she could not escape and a new vision flowed before her spirit eyes.
    She saw a palace, grim and shadow-haunted, and a child weeping in a small room. The King came to him there.
    Derae tried to block her ears and eyes to the scene. To no avail. The man approached the weeping child, and in his hand was a long, curved dagger.
    'Father, please!' the child begged.
    Derae screamed as the knife clove through the boy's chest. The scene shimmered and she saw the King leave the room, his mouth and beard streaming with blood.
    'Am I immortal now?'