by C. L. Wilson
The tears she kept telling herself she would not shed pooled in her eyes and spilled over. «Nei, teska, do not think that way. So long as we live, there is hope. A thousand years we have suffered. A thousand more would I bear, just for what few bells he grants us together. Do you love me any less?»
«You know I don’t.»
«Then promise me you will not do this.»
«Elfeya…»
«Promise me, Shan.»
For a long moment he did not answer, and then finally, in a defeated whisper, «What choices we make, we make for us both. If you do not wish it, it will not be done.»
The Fading Lands ~ Fey’Bahren
«Your mate needs feeding,» Sybharukai chided.
Ellysetta had been sitting with the eggs for several long bells. Even now, she leaned against them, her hands stroking gently over the leathery shells as she crooned little songs of encouragement and praise.
“Aiyah,” he agreed, “and sleep.” Though inside, the nesting lair remained dark and unchanged, outside the Great Sun had passed its zenith and was already approaching the western horizon. Most of the day was gone, and Marissya and Dax were less than eighty miles away. They would be here before nightfall.
Rain regarded Ellysetta. There was no hint of the weariness he could feel beating at her. Was she even aware of it? Her concentration was wholly focused on communicating with the five small, unborn tairen huddled in their eggs. She was weaving love around the unborn kitlings the way Fey wove the elements, only her weave wasn’t Spirit. It wasn’t illusion. It was genuine emotion, real love, warming and welcoming. Tenderness. Devotion. Pride. Encouragement. It shone from her like sunlight, bathing the kitlings in its warmth.
“Shei’tani.” He touched her shoulder. Still singing, she turned towards him, and for a brief moment the song of warmth, love, and tenderness poured over him, soaking into his skin. His breath stalled, and his eyes half closed in pleasure.
He gave a small frown of protest as Ellysetta cut her song short.
“I’m sorry.” She started to rise, and a surprised look crossed over her face as her legs—cramped for so long in their crouched position—collapsed beneath her.
He caught her, swept an arm under her legs, and lifted her off her feet, carrying her with effortless strength up the main entrance tunnel.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked as they veered right into one of the larger passageways branching off of the main tunnel.
“You are weary. You need to eat and sleep. There is a sleeping chamber above where you can rest.” Globes of light flared to life as they walked, illuminating their path. This tunnel was narrower than the main tunnel but still quite wide. The walls were smooth, the floor well worn.
“But the kitlings—”
“We have time.” The tunnel forked in three, one path leading below, two others leading up. They went up and to the left. “The sickness attacking the tairen comes most often in the bells between dusk and dawn.”
“I don’t think it’s really a sickness, Rain. When I was singing to them, I tried to find signs of injury or illness, but I couldn’t. I could be wrong, of course—Marissya is a far more experienced healer—but to me they all seem healthy. Tired and frightened, but healthy.”
He gave her a grim look. “I feared you might say that.”
“So you don’t really believe it’s a sickness.”
“Nei. My instinct has always told me the Eld must surely be to blame, but I have watched far too many kitlings die in the egg—dozens of them in my arms when I tried to cut them from the shell to save them—and never once have I sensed Azrahn.”
“Well, if it’s not Azrahn and the Mages, do you think whatever I sensed during the Fire Song could be behind the deaths of the kitlings?”
“I don’t know, shei’tani. I just don’t know.”
The passage snaked around, doubling back upon itself and continuing to rise. Above, dim light shone in from a large opening at the top of the next U-shaped curve. As they passed it, Ellie glimpsed the bright blue afternoon sky. She lifted a hand to shield her eyes, surprised that it was still light outside. She’d lost all sense of time deep within the caverns of Fey’Bahren.
She squirmed in his arms. “You should put me down. I’m certain I must be heavy.”
“You are no burden.” He bent his head to take her mouth in a long, sweet kiss. “Besides,” he added when he lifted his head, “we are already here.”
He carried her through another, slightly smaller tunnel that ended in a tall, Fey-sized wooden door. A flick of his fingers sent green Earth spinning out to lift the latch, and silvery Air blew open the door to reveal the chamber beyond. He gestured again, and Fire blossomed in sconces all about the room, adding their light to the sunlight filtering in from yet another passage leading off the main chamber.
Rain finally set Ellysetta on her feet, and she turned in slow circles to glance around the room. The chamber was obviously made for Feyreisen: spacious enough for a tairen to maneuver, yet furnished with human comforts, including a bed piled thick with furs and pillows, and large, beautifully woven rugs to soften the hard stone of the floor. Against one wall stood an elegant, carved desk and matching gilded chair.
“This is your room,” she guessed.
“It used to be Johr’s—the previous Tairen Soul—but it’s been mine since I returned to sanity. There were other furnished rooms, but I burned them out in the early days of my madness and never made the effort to restore them.” The corners of his eyes crinkled at her look of dismay. “I’m much better now.”
“How can you joke about it?”
He cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking. “Because you restored my joy.”
“Rain…” She reached for him, wanting to wrap her arms around him and hold him close, but he stepped back.
“Food first. Then rest. Then perhaps I will show you what a grateful shei’tan I am.”
Heat curled in her belly at the sight of the silken promises in his eyes. Until Rain, she’d never realized lavender could be such a seductive shade, but now she realized she’d never see it again without thinking of breathless passion and love.
“Come,” he murmured. The dark velvet of his voice slipped over her skin, making her breath quicken and her pulse speed up. “I thought we’d eat outside. The view is spectacular.” He gestured for her to precede him through a broad archway.
Ellysetta walked past what appeared to be a private bathing chamber and through a smaller, unadorned cave with a large opening that led to the outside world.
She passed through the opening to the broad, wide-lipped ledge that jutted out from the side of the mountain, walking slowly to the farthest point. There, with the wind whipping around her, clouds close enough to touch, and the ground so far, far below, it was easy to believe she was once again aloft in the winds, flying over the Fading Lands. Her belly tightened with exhilaration. She closed her eyes and drew the cool, fresh air into her lungs.
“Just standing here is almost like flying.”
He stepped close behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Aiyah. You feel it too. As if you could leap from the ledge and the wind would welcome you and send you soaring.”
“Yes, that’s it.” She opened her eyes and looked down at her feet. The toes of her boots touched the edge of the precipice, and yet she was unafraid. No hint of vertigo touched her. No sense of even the slightest fear. Only appreciation and thrill and longing.
“I miss this place,” he murmured close to her ear. “I don’t come back as often as I should. Mostly only when I need the simplicity of being tairen.”
“Simplicity? The tairen don’t seem simple to me.” She thought of the mysteries of the mountain, and Sybharukai with her green eyes so full of secrets. Ellysetta had been here less than a day, but already she knew there was so much more to the tairen than she’d ever realized.
“Do they not? They eat when they are hungry, sleep when they are tired, and kill their enemy without doubt
or regret when he threatens them. Do you know how calming that is?”
“To kill your enemy?”
“To have no regrets.”
She turned in his arms and lifted her face to his. The shadows were back in his eyes, the memories of all those who had died in his flames. She stood up on the tips of her toes to kiss him, then bent her head to the hollow of his throat, and they stood there together, on the edge of the precipice, alone above the world as the cool winds of the high mountain swirled around them.
“I hesitate to ask what we’ll be eating. I’m not particularly fond of raw herdbeast.” She tilted her head at the grazing animals so far below.
His eyes crinkled, not quite a smile but close. “Nei, I would not think so. Though I must say, to a hungry tairen, tavalree on the hoof is a choice morsel.”
With a casual weave of Earth, he spun a table and two chairs out from his chambers to the cliff’s edge, then wove a small basket containing food, a corked vessel, and a pair of golden goblets. At her surprised look, he confessed, “I keep a small store of food stocked in one of the caves below with a protective weave to ensure freshness. I don’t always want tavalree when I come here either.”
The food was simple fare: a block of cheese, round loaves of flat, golden bread, and several of the tear-shaped tamaris fruits. Rain uncorked the bottle, poured a stream of crystal-clear water into the two goblets, and offered her one. A sip confirmed it was faerilas. “From Dharsa,” he said in answer to her questioning look. He pushed a plate of food towards her. “Enough talking. Eat. Your body needs nourishment to replenish its strength.”
Ellysetta reached for a round of bread, then layered slices of cheese on top. The first bite was heavenly. The cheese was creamy and flavorful, the bread a melting delight. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was, but once the food hit her tongue, ravenous appetite took over. She devoured the meal in a few quick, voracious bites, and moments later found herself staring in bewilderment at empty hands sticky with tamaris juice. How had that happened?
Rain laughed softly. “Hunger comes upon you quickly when you weave magic for so many bells.” At her confused frown, he elucidated. “Your singing. You were weaving love and courage on the kitlings through your song. Even Sybharukai was impressed. In many ways, your weave imitated tairen song.”
“I didn’t realize.”
“You never do, it seems, when you are weaving great power.” He helped himself to the remaining portion of the food and leaned back in his chair as he took a few bites.
“I’ve been thinking about that since we left Celieria City. The circumstances of your birth forced you to use your magic more as instinct than a controllable skill, Ellysetta. While that served you well in its time, the practice appears to have conditioned you to trust your powers only when you do not know you are weaving them.”
She sat up straighter, a bit offended. “I’ve been weaving magic. All those bells spent with Marissya on our journey here, when she was teaching me how to heal, I wove magic—powerful magic. What would you call that?”
“Frustration.” When she crossed her arms and her eyes flashed, he hurried to add, “I am not dismissing your efforts, shei’tani, but you’ve been trying to pour the force of an ocean through the mouth of a stream. And when you cannot forget how vast and potentially dangerous that ocean is, your powers either dam up or overwhelm you.
“So you think I can’t control my magic because I fear it?”
“I think, shei’tani, you have feared what you are for so long, there’s no room in your heart for trust. And until you trust yourself, you will find it difficult—if not impossible—to control your magic…and impossible for us to complete our bond.”
“So what’s your solution?”
“The same as it is for a chadin of the Cha Baruk. Practice. And much of it. Some things cannot be learned by any other means. As you gain confidence, your fears will diminish.”
“So who will teach me this confidence?”
“I’ve been thinking about that, too.” He sat back, plucked a Fey’cha from the straps across his chest, and began twirling the blade on his fingertips, razor-sharp steel and black hilt flipping end over end, the pinch of his fingers so perfect the knife edge never broke his skin. “Until our bond is complete, I cannot merge with your mind the way a chatok must to guide your learning. The shei’dalins will teach you to wield a shei’dalin’s gifts, but you are a Tairen Soul as well. There are skills you need that no shei’dalin can teach you.”
Ellysetta watched the steel flashing in his fingers. The blade was a mere blur now.
“The mentors of the Warriors’ Academy are masters of magic as well as war. They are our most skilled teachers—and all of them are mated, which will make it easier for me to allow them close to you.” He caught the black Fey’cha in midspin and returned it to its sheath. “I will ask one of them to be your chatok and teach you the ways of Fey magic.”
“You want a warrior to teach me to wield my magic.” His eyes lifted, and Ellysetta’s mouth went suddenly dry. Thick black lashes framed gleaming pale purple irises that were just beginning to glow. Instantly she was reminded of his expression when he’d stood beside her in Chakai as she healed the rasa.
“Want? Nei. But it’s what you need.” He stared down at the table, where his thumbnail had just dug a deep groove into the finish. A muscle ticked in his jaw. Green Earth flared briefly, and the groove filled back in. “If our bond were complete, I would teach you myself, but it is not.” His shoulder lifted and fell. “If there were another Tairen Soul, I would ask him, but there is not. It must be a chatok from the Academy. They are the only ones who can teach you what you need to know.”
She leaned across the table and put her hands on his. “There is no need for you to torment yourself, Rain. You are my shei’tan, the man I dreamed of all my life. My heart has no room for another.”
“When it comes to some things, shei’tani, tairen do not listen to reason.”
“Do they not?” She slipped out of her chair and sat on his lap, looping her arms casually around his neck. “Perhaps they just need convincing.”
She smiled as the tense brackets around his mouth eased and the glow of his eyes grew more pronounced—and much warmer.
“Perhaps you’re right,” he purred. “Why don’t you try it and see?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
The slopes of Fey’Bahren run dark with the blood of enemies, fools, and prey.
Ancient Fey Maxim
The Fading Lands ~ Fey’Bahren
Ellysetta woke with a yawning stretch, smiling at the pleasant tug of muscle and the warmth of Rain’s body stretched out beside her. She rolled against him, burying her face in his hair and breathing deep to take his scent into her lungs. She would never tire of waking beside him, skin-to-skin, knowing this was where she belonged.
After their meal, they’d retired to Rain’s bedchamber to make love with breathtaking intensity before falling into deep, exhausted, and blessedly dreamless sleep. Now Ellysetta was awake and refreshed, and rapidly discovering that Fey males weren’t the only ones to harbor insatiable desire for their mates.
She slid a leg up over his and slipped an arm around his waist. Her fingers traced the steely ripples of his abdomen and moved up across his chest, and she smiled against the soft skin of his neck as one flat male nipple hardened beneath her fingertips. “Mmm.” She stroked the small nub and nuzzled his ear. “Are you well rested, shei’tan?” Her hand trailed back down his ribs to his hips to stroke a far more interesting bit of hardening male flesh. Her smile grew wider. “Ah, I see that you are.”
She squealed with laughter as he turned in one quick burst of motion and rolled her on her back, pinning her to the bed. “Feeling bold?” he growled. He lowered his head, and his silky black hair fell in dark veils around them, casting his face in shadow so that the glow of his eyes seemed more intense.
“You don’t like it?”
White teeth flashed. “I never said that.�
� His lips took hers in a deep, passionate kiss, not releasing her until her pulse was racing, her nails were scoring his back, and her lungs were gasping for air. “This Fey loves bold. Bold is good.”
She closed her eyes as his lips tracked down her throat to her breasts. Moist heat closed around one sensitive tip while warm fingers worked their seductive magic on the other. “Very good,” she groaned. Her legs wrapped around him, heels pressing against the tight curve of his buttocks, urging him upwards. Much as she loved his hands, his lips, his magic upon her, what she wanted was him, inside her where he belonged, completing her. She never felt so whole as she did when their bodies were united, their souls so close she could almost reach out and grasp those elusive, final threads of their bond.
A rumbling purr rolled across her skin, and a puff of warm, richly scented air swirled around her. «Fine, strong mating is good. Rainier-Eras and Ellysetta-kitling will hatch many kitlings for the pride.»
The happy, purring voice—definitely not Rain’s—hit Ellysetta like a bucket of frigid water. Her eyes flew open, and she found herself staring straight up into very large, very glowing, very curious blue tairen eyes.
“Ahhh!” Ellie shrieked, and shoved Rain away from her with such force he tumbled off the edge of the bed and hit the rock floor with a thud. She snatched fistfuls of furred coverlets and silky sheets and yanked them up in a desperate attempt to cover herself.
“Good sweet Lord of Light!” she exclaimed, staring at the white tairen in mortification. “What are you doing here? Have you never heard of knocking?”
Steli snorted and sat back on her haunches. A miffed growl rumbled in her chest, and her tail whipped against the chamber wall, making little flakes of rock fall to the floor. «What is “knocking”?»
Rain, naked and utterly unashamed, stood up and rubbed his bruised hindquarters. He fixed Steli with a disgruntled look. “Ellysetta-Feyreisa means Steli-chakai should sing greetings before entering the sleeping lair of the Feyreisen and his mate.”