Donelan's gift could not be boxed. He had given two mares and two stallions of the horses for which Isencroft was famed. Unmatched for speed, without equal for beauty, the bloodlines of the Isencroft horses were regarded to be as precious as the crown jewels of the kingdom. Fitted with the incomparable tack for which Isencroft was also known, the horses were indeed worthy of a king, and the gift of breeding stock was symbolic of the union between the two kingdoms that would occur upon Donelan's death.
Kalcen leaned forward as Tris and Kiara unwrapped his gift. It was a triptych with beautifully painted illuminations, drawn by a skilled artist. The frame was covered with gold. "I've had my astrologers consult the stars to create this. We set much stock by the stars in East-mark. One panel is for you," he said with a nod toward Tris, "and one for you," he said with a smile for Kiara. "It foretells lucky and inauspicious dates for 80 years from the day of your births. In the center, my seers have read the stars for this day, and predict that signs are favorable for a male child to be born within a year."
For nearly a candlemark, Tris and Kiara received the gifts of the nobility: beautiful silver, finely etched crystal, and gem-studded jewelry. Tris felt himself begin to relax as the pile of gifts diminished without incident. He and Kiara were effusive in their thanks, but he knew that Kiara also was mentally wincing at the competitive opulence of the presents from nobility eager to gain favor with the new king and queen.
At last, one gift remained. It was draped in cloth, a rectangle the size of a doorway.
"Think it's a portrait?" Kiara whispered to Tris with a laugh, knowing how much he hated Jared's life-sized paintings of himself.
"Goddess, I hope not! We've only just finished burning all the ones Jared made." He sobered and his eyes widened. "There's something wrong."
"What is it?"
"Blood magic. I can feel it."
The servants swept back the cloth with a flourish, revealing an ornately framed mirror. The frame was gold, engraved with an intricate design of runes.
"Don't touch that!"
Tris's warning came an instant too late. The mirror wavered in the servants' grip and one of them reached out a hand to steady it, touching the glass.
The mirror misted and the glass disappeared. An ear-piercing shriek sounded, and before the servants holding the mirror could scatter, a huge beast bounded through the frame. The beast was corpse gray, with slick, hairless skin stretched across a nightmare body. Its misshapen head held bulbous eyes and sharp, protruding teeth. It walked upright like a man, on solidly-muscled hind legs that ended in massive claws. With its clawed forearms, the beast swept aside the men holding the frame, casually ripping the head from the nearest of the servants.