by C. L. Wilson
“And as the Eye just made abundantly clear, that last power could be deadly to us all. If she falls and her lu’tans follow her into shadow, we are all lost.”
The idea of Ellysetta lost to the darkness made Rain’s soul shudder in denial. That could not happen—would not happen so long as he drew breath. “You look at her, Tenn, and you see danger. When I look at her, I see hope. For me, for the tairen, and for the Fey.”
“She is your truemate,” Tenn said. “Of course that is what you see.”
“Your loyalty to your mate does you honor,” Yulan added, “but no one here can deny that our concerns are valid. The future shown by the Eye may be only a possibility, but it proves the Feyreisa is a potential threat to the safety of the Fading Lands.”
“All great gifts of the gods come with a price,” Rain countered. “Why should you think the first truemate of a Tairen Soul would be any different?”
Loris stepped towards Rain, the folds of his blue robes swirling around him. “I stand with Rain.” His dark blue eyes caught and held them all, and his voice, though calm, brooked no defiance. “Regardless of what threat the Feyreisa may pose to us in the future, she is a shei’dalin, our king’s truemate, and a Tairen Soul of the Fey’Bahren pride in her own right. I will accept and defend her. The only other choice leads down the Dark Path. No matter what risk or sacrifice may be required, that is a road I will not travel.”
“I stand with Rain also,” Marissya said. “No matter what the High Mage may have done to her, no matter what he may intend, Ellysetta is as bright a soul as I’ve ever known.”
“Rain, Loris, and Marissya are right,” Eimar agreed. “As a shei’dalin of the Fey, the Feyreisa deserves all the protection and aid we can offer her.”
The four of them standing in agreement was enough to earn Tenn’s and Yulan’s grudging silence, and the matter was decided. Shortly thereafter, Rain sang his farewells to the tairen, took his leave of the Massan, and returned to his suite to comfort his shei’tani.
“They must hate me now.” Ellysetta sat curled up in Rain’s lap in a broad chair by the open archway in their suite, her eyes still red from the storm of tears she’d shed against his neck.
“Nei, they do not hate you.” Rain stroked his hand down her back, tracing the delicate ridges of her spine. “They are concerned, of course, but sooner or later we would have had to tell them the truth. Tairen do not keep secrets from their pride.” He pressed his face into her hair, breathing the sweet aroma of her bright curls. “They have even all agreed that you should be trained both by the shei’dalins and by the chatok of the Academy. So you see? The Eye’s vision caused no irreparable harm.”
“Rain…” She pulled away and gave him a chiding look.
“I know it was not so easy.”
Much as he wanted to, he would not lie nor dance the blade’s edge of truth, not even to set her mind at ease. “Nei, it was not. What futures the Eye shows are not certain, but they are possible. Several of the Massan are afraid what they saw may come to pass.”
“So what do we do now?”
“We do exactly as we planned: save the tairen, complete our bond, and defend Celieria against the Eld.” He gave a little huff of rueful laughter. It sounded so easy, but he knew they were facing the most difficult challenges of their lives. “Tomorrow, Venarra will take you to the Hall of Scrolls while I make arrangements for your magic training and meet with the Massan and the warriors to begin preparations for the defense of Celieria. There is much to do, and little time to do it if I’m to march warriors and weapons to Orest by month’s end.”
Ellysetta laid her head in the hollow of Rain’s throat and stared out through the billowing veils framing the open balcony. Last night she’d floated on a euphoric cloud of joy, thinking she’d finally come home to the place she belonged, and that the Feytale life she’d always dreamed of was finally at hand.
Today, the Eye had brought her crashing back down to earth and shown her in no uncertain terms that the nightmares she’d lived with all her life were far from over.
The Fading Lands ~ Dharsa
The moment she met Venarra v’En Eilan at the palace entry hall the next morning, every last fear and doubt stirred by Shei’Kess rose up again.
Either Venarra had seen Ellysetta’s Azrahn weave and the vision in the Eye or Tenn had told her what happened. Either way, when the woman’s black eyes fell upon her, Ellie was instantly reminded of the cold, relentless shei’dalins in the Mists. The sensation intensified as they walked in silence through the morning mist that wreathed Dharsa’s central hill. The city was still sleeping, and the world was shrouded in white silence. With each step, Ellie half expected to find herself back in the avenue of trees with the wall of shei’dalins and their grim-eyed warriors standing in wait.
Instead, halfway down the hillside, they left the palace grounds and turned down a white stone road. Ellie’s soft-soled, embroidered half boots whispered along the stone. A few chimes later, the mist began to clear, and they came to an enormous beautiful, columned structure built at the foot of a lacy, multitiered waterfall.
“This, Feyreisa,” Venarra said, breaking her silence, “is the Hall of Scrolls, repository of all Fey knowledge since the dawn of the First Age.”
Ellysetta tilted her head back, speechless with awe. The building appeared to grow right out of the hillside, and the sheer size of it was intimidating. She followed Venarra through the massive, towering columns into an exquisitely tiled entrance gallery, where a Fey woman in a sumptuous blue-green gown was waiting by the entrance.
“Feyreisa, this is Tealah vol Jianas, my assistant here in the Hall of Scrolls. If you ever need anything when you visit the hall, just call for either of us and we will come.”
“Meivelei, Feyreisa.” Tealah had a shy smile, warm blue-green eyes, and skeins of shining black hair hanging in waves down to her waist. “Nalia said you were bright as a star. I can see she was not exaggerating.” Tealah bowed and waved a hand at the doorway behind her. “Teska, enter and be welcome.”
Beyond the large, arching doors a massive and multilevel atrium opened up, stealing the breath from Ellie’s lungs with its sheer magnificence. The glassed ceiling soared so high and so long, a tairen could easily take wing within its confines. Light filtered down, bright and plentiful, illuminating case after case containing piles of neatly stacked books and scrolls. Ringing the perimeter of the hall, five balustraded levels opened to the center of the atrium, whose floor was a neatly ordered field of tall bookcases and reading desks.
“How many books and scrolls are there?” Ellysetta asked. Compared to this wonderland of Fey history, Celieria’s extensively stocked National Library was a meager collection.
“There are close to four million documents in the main hall. And there are five storage levels below this one, each containing at least three times the number of texts you see here.”
“It would take a lifetime to read everything.” The amount of knowledge waiting to be discovered was both staggering and exhilarating.
“Several lifetimes,” Venarra corrected. “Even among the Fey, I can’t think of a single keeper who ever managed it.”
Ellysetta’s heart sank. “But how will I ever have any hope of finding the information I need to save the tairen? Just reading the titles of the books on this one level will take me months.”
“Come. I will show you.” With a wave of one elegant, tapered hand, Venarra led Ellysetta down the curving staircase to the center of the hall, where an oval frame containing what appeared to be a clear sheet of silver-tinted glass was mounted on a pedestal.
“Mirror,” Venarra said, and colors began to shift and swirl across the glass. A moment later, a beautiful, disembodied Fey face appeared in the glass. A Fey man’s face, silvery pale and glowing, with blazing emerald eyes and hair the color of polished fireoak. The long strands of his fiery hair flowed around his face like billowing clouds of flame and smoke.
“This is the Mirror of In
quiry. Ask it to find a particular text or information about a particular subject, and if it exists in the hall, the Mirror will locate it.”
“Why does it wear someone’s face?”
“All the Mirrors do. No doubt the makers thought it would be easier to ask questions of a person than a blank sheet of glass.” Her tone became brisk. “Which scrolls would you like to see first?”
“Perhaps you could recommend a good place to start.” Venarra hesitated as if surprised that Ellysetta had asked her for guidance, then said, “The kitlings are dying. Healing seems the obvious place to begin.”
“I would agree, but neither Marissya nor I could sense any sort of physical ailment in the kitlings. They are healthy, yet they are dying.”
“There are types of ailments that do not manifest themselves as obvious physical abnormalities. Even the best healer might easily overlook them.”
“Then let’s start there.” Ellysetta offered a smile that went unreturned.
Venarra turned back to the shimmering oval glass. “Mirror, find all records in the hall regarding illnesses that cannot be detected by a healing weave, and bring them here to an available reading table.”
The Mirror, which had been waiting patiently without a hint of expression on the face within, now shimmered with renewed life. The blazing emerald eyes of the disembodied visage slowly shut. The flame-kissed hair blew back as if on a sudden gust of wind, then began to billow gently again. When the Mirror’s eyes reopened, they were filled with myriad sparkling green lights.
Ellysetta stepped back in surprise as the sparks streamed out, escaping the glass to swirl above the Mirror like a swarm of tiny fairy-flies before shooting off in every direction, leaving trails of shimmering green light in their wakes.
She spun around, trying to follow the paths of as many as she could. Dozens shot up to race around the upper levels of the atrium, performing a series of aerial acrobatics before zooming with guided precision towards specific scrolls and books inside the numerous bookcases. Each book and scroll the lights landed upon blazed with a sudden, electric green glow.
Venarra stepped out of the circle and walked towards the closest table. She’d taken only a few steps when the green lights came zipping back and splashed down in tiny bursts of bright color. First on the table, then on the floor beside the table, the explosions of color coalesced into rapidly growing piles of scrolls and books, all glowing with a green aura.
“There are so many.”
“My request was very general,” Venarra explained. “Once you decide which topics seem the most promising, you can use the Mirror to narrow the search.”
The shei’dalin reached for one of the scrolls at the top of the first stack just as Ellysetta reached for one nearby. Their hands brushed. Venarra jerked back as if she’d been burned—or, rather, as if Ellysetta’s Mage Marks were a contagion that could be spread by simple contact.
“Sieks’ta.” Venarra clasped her hand tightly at her side. Ellysetta could see her fighting to cover her emotions, to hide her revulsion behind a mask of studied politeness. “As I was saying…” She cleared her throat. “You needn’t worry about putting the documents back. When you leave, the Mirror will automatically return everything to its proper place.”
“Venarra…”
The shei’dalin continued as if Ellie hadn’t spoken. “The hall is warded to prevent any of the original texts from leaving the grounds, so if you find a document you want to take with you, ask the Mirror to make a copy.”
“Venarra…” She started to reach out to the other woman, then caught herself as the shei’dalin flinched away.
“Please. Don’t shut me out. Talk to me. I need your help.”
“There’s nothing to say. If you don’t have any other questions, I’ll leave you to your reading.”
Ellysetta persisted. “I know that what happened with the Eye was very upsetting. I understand how you must feel.” She could put herself in Venarra’s shoes all too easily. She’d felt exactly the same when Gaelen first revealed the truth of her Mage Marks. “Even Rain fled from me in revulsion when he first learned the truth. He loathes the Eld—almost more than he now loves me—and when he learned I was Mage Marked, he was ready to choose death rather than risk the safety of the Fey by bringing me back to the Fading Lands.”
Venarra’s black eyes, shuttered and suspicious, fixed on Ellysetta. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you need to know. In truth, part of me is relieved the Eye revealed what it did. As Rain and Steli have told me, the tairen do not keep secrets from their pride. Rain could have left me in Celieria after learning about my Mage Marks. He wanted to at first. He feared what the Mages would do if they successfully completed their claiming—he still fears it, as do I—but the tairen stopped him. They believe I am the one who can save them—the only one who can.”
Venarra looked down at her own tightly clasped hands. “That may be, Feyreisa—and I do pray it is so—but I saw the vision in the Eye. I saw the future it foretold. I saw the heads on the pikes behind your throne.” Venarra’s voice began to shake. Not with fear, Ellysetta realized, but with an almost tairen fierceness. “My shei’tan’s was among them.” Her eyes flashed up. The black irises had turned to fiery gold suns, and the piles of books and scrolls on the desk began to quake and rattle. “I’ll call for your death myself before I let you harm him.”
Ellysetta’s mouth went dry.
The stack of documents toppled and scrolls clattered to the floor.
The sound seemed to snap Venarra out of the fury that had gripped her. She spun away, putting distance between them, and bent over as if in pain.
Ellysetta knelt and, with shaking hands, began to pick up the scattered scrolls.
A moment later, Venarra knelt beside her to help. Her emotions were once more locked tightly away, her face an impenetrable mask of aloof calm, and she was careful not to let her hands brush Ellie’s again.
When they were finished, they stood in tense silence on opposite sides of the reading desk. The physical distance was but a fraction of the great, invisible gulf that truly lay between them.
“Venarra, I—”
“Teska, Feyreisa. Forgive my outburst.” Venarra kept her head high. “I realize you are not to blame for the circumstances set upon you. As a shei’dalin, I am not without compassion, but I cannot pretend a warm welcome for the woman who may well become the destroyer of the one I love most.” She took a breath. “I realize the tairen commanded Rain to bring you, even knowing the taint you bear, because they believe you are the only one who can save them. Tenn fears that you’ve already done all you were meant to do, but your shei’tan refuses to even consider the possibility. Let’s hope for all our sakes that Rain and the tairen are right, and that you find the solution before the other prophecy of the Eye comes true.”
Ellysetta bit her lip. How could she blame the woman for wanting so desperately to protect her shei’tan? She would have reacted just as fiercely if someone were threatening Rain. Still, that didn’t make the wound of Venarra’s distrust hurt any less.
“Well,” Ellystta said, turning to the enormous stack of books and scrolls, “I suppose I should get started right away then.” She glanced back at Venarra. “Is there anything else I should know before you go?”
After a brief, tense silence, the shei’dalin said, “Nei. If you have any other questions, consult the Mirror, or ask it to locate Tealah or myself.”
Once Venarra was gone, Ellysetta stood there, fighting off the tears that threatened to fall. She told herself Venarra’s reaction wasn’t any different from what she’d faced all her life. Countless times as a child, she’d faced the suspicion and outright hostility of neighbors after one of her seizures. Railing against it had never changed anything before, and it wasn’t going to change anything now.
She took a deep, restorative breath and turned around in a slow circle. She was standing in the Fey Hall of Scrolls, probably the most ancient collection of d
ocuments in existence, surrounded by millennia of history and legends and ancient secrets lost to the world.
Just being here was the fulfillment of one of her most cherished dreams, and she was not going to let anything cast a pall over it. She was going to dive into the stacks of books and scrolls and discover all the wonders held within their pages, and she was going to find some way of saving the tairen.
Ellysetta flipped the catch on the scroll case and unraveled the first handspan of parchment. There was no telling how old the scroll was. Fey magic had kept it in perfect condition. She drank in the elegant, artistic Fey calligraphy, her mind instantly processing the familiar script of Feyan words and sentences: On the Identification and Treatment of Illnesses of the Spirit, Observations of the shei’dalin Carenna vol Espera.
While Ellysetta immersed herself in the knowledge of the Fey, Rain immersed himself in military planning. He stood before the great map wall that showed a detailed tairen’s-eye view of the Fading Lands, Celieria and their surrounding neighbors: Elvia, Eld, the Pale, and Danael. Behind him, the five lords of the Massan were seated at a broad table, watching as tiny figures moved across the map with each gesture of Rain’s hand.
“One thousand of our brothers are already on their way to Celieria’s northern march.” He waved, and tiny Spirit Fey armies dispersed across the southern banks of the flowing Heras River. “They will train the mortals and help them prepare for the coming conflict, but I intend to put another six thousand blades on the march within the next three months.”
“Six thousand?” Tenn interrupted. “Why should we send so many? Do they not have armies of their own?”
“They do, but it’s been too long since they have known real war. Except for the occasional Eld raid, many of their soldiers have let their blades grow dull with disuse.”
Yulan grunted. “Perhaps that is the gods’ way of putting an end to them, then.”
Rain bit back a retort. As one of the Fey who, up until three weeks ago, had shared Yulan’s opinion of Celieria, Rain could hardly condemn the Earth master’s views; but he no longer agreed with them. The Fey were few. Celierians were many, but they could not stand against the Eld without Fey help. And as Ellysetta had once pointed out, if the Mages conquered Celieria, all the mortals would find themselves Mage-claimed conscripts in the army of Eld.