by C. L. Wilson
CHAPTER FOUR
“You took away his memories, Ellysetta.”
“I said I was sorry!” Ellie met Rain’s angry look without flinching. Well, with only a little flinch. Still, it was easier to face Rain’s anger than the sad disappointment in Bel’s face. Anger let her get angry back. Bel’s disappointment made her feel like a belly-crawling porgil, as if she’d somehow betrayed him. “You told me not to go near him, and I didn’t.” She glared at Bel. She hadn’t betrayed anyone. “I didn’t! You never said I couldn’t try to heal him.”
When Marissya, Rain, and Dax had arrived, they’d found Adrial resting quietly, with no memories of the previous night or the emptiness that had haunted him this morning. The last eighteen bells were a blank slate in his mind, wiped completely clean. And when Marissya had made that announcement, a dozen pairs of accusing eyes had turned on Ellie, who had only been able to bite her lip and say, hopefully, “I’m sorry?”
It was, of course, the wrong thing to say. It started off a firestorm of recriminations from Rain, an angry tirade that was still going full steam even now, a full quarter bell later. Adrial had already returned to the palace, accompanied by Marissya, Dax, and Rowan. Teris and Cyr, two warriors from Ravel’s quintet, had returned to replace Adrial and Rowan. And Rain was still lecturing Ellie furiously.
She was starting to get angry. All this time, they’d been telling her, “Use your magic. Embrace your magic.” She didn’t think it was exactly fair of Rain to blame her for following his advice. She had taken away Adrial’s pain, after all. Maybe not the way he would have liked, but the pain was gone and other than a few missing memories, Adrial was perfectly fine. She’d even healed him of all remnants of last night’s excesses. Lady Marissya herself had said the healing had been masterfully done. You’d think someone would be at least a little grateful for that!
“I didn’t mean to take his memories. I only meant to help him.”
“You should not have touched him,” Rain said for what must have been the twentieth time. “Not in any way!”
“You didn’t specify. Weren’t you the one who told me, ‘When you wager with tairen, take care with your words’?”
His rush of anger was so hot, so fierce, Ellie half expected to see flames shooting out of his head. “That was a game! This could have cost your life. You knew what I meant when I said to stay away from him.”
“I knew? Am I supposed to be able to read your mind now?”
“You could,” he snarled. “If you would accept the bond between us, you would know every thought in my mind as if it were your own.”
Angry that she was being yelled at for trying to help a friend, angrier still that she hadn’t even been able to do that right, Ellie shouted at Rain, “Then maybe I don’t want to accept this stupid bond! Maybe I don’t want your thoughts in my brain. Maybe I prefer to keep my mind my own! Maybe you should just go back to the Fading Lands and leave me alone!”
The echoes of her shout rang in the dead silence that ensued. Every member of her quintet found a reason to inspect the ceiling, the floor, the bare walls.
Rain said softly, “You don’t mean that, Ellysetta.”
“Don’t I?” she snapped, but already her flash of anger was fading away. His voice had trembled ever so slightly when he’d said her name just then, and even if their bond hadn’t allowed her to feel the uncertainty rising in him, that faint tremble would have given it away. She’d struck him deeply, in a spot vulnerable to no one but her, and she knew it.
Ellie closed her eyes, rubbing her temples. She was tired. Her head hurt. Her heart ached. She’d made a mess of things last night, and that mess had somehow resulted in Adrial’s pain. Then she’d tried to heal Adrial, only to make a mess of that too. And now, with angry words that she didn’t really mean, she’d hurt Rain as well. His pain was like a burning hollowness inside her, as real to her as if it were her own.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Of course I don’t mean it. I’m not myself this morning.” Then she laughed at the absurdity of that remark. “This morning? I haven’t been myself since the day you came out of the sky and frightened me half to death.” She crossed her arms over her chest and forced herself to meet his gaze. “Perhaps it’s best if we don’t go out today. We’re both tired and angry. I don’t think there’s any point in being alone with each other.”
“You are afraid.” He sounded uncertain, as if he were groping to understand her mood. “I’ve been short-tempered with you, over things you didn’t mean to do. It’s only because of the danger to you that you don’t yet even understand. Ellysetta, don’t fear our bond. I know I’m not the easiest of men to accept. I know my own soul, and there are vast wells of darkness in it, but believe me when I say I want only your happiness and your well-being.”
It was the first time Ellie had ever seen Rain’s self-assurance rattled, and she didn’t like it. He was her hero, the magic prince she’d dreamed of all her life, a legend larger than life. She was just a twenty-four-year-old woodcarver’s daughter, a nobody. She should not have the power to make a legend tremble, and yet she did. She didn’t want that power. She could not bear to see Rain humbled, especially not by her hand.
“Last night I didn’t know what I was doing,” she said. “This morning, I did. I tried to help Adrial, even knowing you didn’t want me to.” She met his eyes and shrugged. “The ironic thing is, when I tried to help him, nothing happened. It was only when I wasn’t trying that I succeeded. What good is that to anyone?”
She grimaced and heaved a sigh. “In any case, it’s I who owe the apology, not you. I shouldn’t have tried to use powers I don’t even understand. I shouldn’t have done something you’d told me not to do—even if you weren’t specific. And I shouldn’t have said I wanted you to go away and leave me alone. I don’t want that.” She looked at her feet and scuffed the toe of one shoe against the wooden floor. “If you believed me, and you left, I’d regret it all my life.”
She didn’t hear him move. She only briefly saw the dark shadow of his boots step close to her own slippered feet before she felt his hands cupping her cheeks, long fingers sliding deep into her hair as he gently raised her face to his.
“I know this has all happened so fast,” he said. “I know the demands we have placed on you are many and it is hard to become comfortable with so many changes in so short a time. And I am…short-tempered, even on my best days.” His voice lowered to a husky whisper, and his thumbs stroked her cheekbones in a gentle caress. “I did not mean to shout at you nor wound your feelings. Sieks’ta, I have shamed myself. If it pleases you, shei’tani, I would begin this day anew. All harsh words forgotten.”
“I would like that.”
“Doreh shabeila de. So shall it be.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, a tender gesture that made her heart melt. “Come. Let us dance the skies together.”
They flew for more than a bell, heading west and north, past Kingswood to the rolling farmlands of central Celieria, landing in a wooded glade near the tranquil, clear waters of the Sarne River.
Majestic fireoaks cast their cool shadows over the glade, and the long, flowing branches of water-loving Naidja’s locks dangled in the gentle current like the water spirit’s tresses for which they were named. Pink button daisies grew abundantly by the riverside, their slender white petals surrounding bright pink centers that filled the air with a delicate scent. Rain plucked a bouquet of the wildflowers for Ellysetta, and as she dabbled her toes in the cool water, he surprised her by braiding a dozen of the flowers into a daisy crown and placing it on her head.
“My queen,” he declared.
She hunched her shoulders. “Not a very good one, I’m afraid.”
“A warrior is not made in a day. Give yourself time, shei’tani. You will grow into your new role.”
“Maybe. In twenty or thirty years.” She toed a smooth river rock. “Assuming, of course, that I haven’t single-handedly destroyed every Fey alliance in existence before t
hen. And caused gods only know what harm to all my friends.” She flopped back on the grassy bank and stared up at the brilliant blue Celierian sky above.
“Whatever ails Adrial is not your fault, Ellysetta. None of the rest of us suffered any ill effects from your weave save weariness and, for some, a little embarrassment. And the alliance isn’t destroyed. King Dorian holds no grudge.”
“That’s what—one?—out of two hundred?” She flung an arm over her eyes and groaned. “I knew I shouldn’t have gone to the palace last night. Even without that stupid weave, I knew the nobles would be offended by my presence among them. And they were. They resented having me there—and resented you for bringing me. They are peers of the realm, and no matter what you say, no matter what title you grant me, no matter even if you draped me from head to toe in Tairen’s Eye crystals, I’m not their equal, nor ever shall be.”
He sat up straight, flinging long swaths of midnight hair over his shoulder. “You are right. You are not their equal. You are my shei’tani. My truemate. And I am the Tairen Soul. By the customs of Celieria, the only man in that room last night who was my social equal was Dorian. The only person who was my true equal was you.”
“How can you say that? I’m a nobody. I’m just a plain, simple woodcarver’s daughter.”
Rain laughed wryly. “Ajiana, you are far, far from simple.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do. And you are wrong.” He leaned over her and brushed a lock of hair from her face. “Ellysetta, the shei’tanitsa bond does not form between uneven halves. It only forms where there are two evenly matched parts of the same whole.”
She sat up, drawing her legs in and wrapping her arms around them. “Well, that just proves my point. We’re as far from being evenly matched as…as”—he searched for a suitably ridiculous comparison—“a tairen and Love the kitten!”
Rain’s lips curved in a faint smile. His lavender eyes, which could at times seem so cold, glowed with warmth. His fingers brushed the smooth skin of her cheek in a soft caress. “You’ve only just begun to discover your many gifts. Would you berate a child for failing to read when first you set a book before her? Or for failing to walk when first you set her on her feet?”
“I’m not a child.”
“In this you are. No one travels a new path without making an occasional misstep.”
“A misstep? Missteps are little things. Like sewing a poor seam or burning dinner. Last night was a catastrophe. And then I compounded it by what I did to Adrial.”
Rain’s eyes grew shadowed and his smile faded. The hand by her cheek dropped away. “Ellysetta, I once scorched the world. Millions died by my hand—including thousands who were my friends and allies. That was a catastrophe. What happened last night was merely an embarrassment.”
She felt the swell of horror and self-revulsion within him, and for just a moment she heard the echoes of the screams that haunted him before he clamped his barriers tight. Every day of his life, he suffered unimaginable guilt for what he’d done in a few irreversible bells of madness. And she had unwittingly compared one humiliating evening to that.
Tears burned in her eyes. Why did everything she said and did lately seem to come out wrong? “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” She stared at her tightly clasped hands as they grew blurry and wavered. She could not bear to disappoint him or diminish herself in his eyes, yet at every turn she seemed to do exactly that. “You must think I’m a complete idiot.” Her throat closed up, making her voice crack.
“Nei, shei’tani. I could never think that.”
His voice was so soft, tender, and full of regret. The barriers she’d maintained all day to keep her emotions in check came crashing down. Tears poured from her eyes in a graceless flood. She covered her face and sobbed helplessly. Rain uttered a small, protesting sound and drew her into his arms, but that only made her tears fall faster.
“Las, shei’tani. Nei avi. Don’t cry. Ve khoda kem’san.” Rain rocked Ellysetta gently and stroked the wild tangle of her hair. Her feelings of inadequacy and despair stabbed him like a thousand digger-thorns, the kind that burrowed deep in a man’s flesh and released a painful, toxic venom.
Guilt assailed him. From the moment he’d claimed her, he had torn Ellysetta from the familiar comfort of her previous life, and thrust her—with far too little preparation—into the dangerous, unfriendly currents of his. Worse, he hadn’t even told her why.
She’d done her best to hide her fears. She’d put on a brave face while she let strangers mold her into whatever queenly form they thought appropriate. As if she were not already queen enough to outshine them all.
He bent his head, resting his forehead against hers, and closed his eyes. All at once he knew Marissya was right. There could be no love or trust between Ellysetta and him until first there was truth.
He waited for her tears to stop, then from somewhere dredged up his own courage. “There is something I must tell you.” He turned his head to kiss her palm, then rose to his feet, putting distance between them.
She rose too and started to follow him, then stopped when he turned to face her. He knew his expression had turned to stone. He could not say what he had to say without hiding behind the mask of Fey stoicism, but her uncertainty, the hesitation that dimmed her brightness, made his control falter.
“Ellysetta…”
She swallowed, holding his gaze even though he could see that her hands shook and her pulse beat rapidly beneath the delicate skin of her throat. “What is it, Rain?”
“Do you remember when I told you that the Eye of Truth sent me to find you?”
“Because I am your truemate.”
Rain nodded. “Aiyah, I’m certain that was part of it, but in truth our matebond was an unexpected boon. I had consulted the Eye on another matter, and asked it to show me the solution to my problem. It showed me Celieria…and you.”
Ellie took a half step backwards before stopping herself. “What problem did the Eye say I would solve, Rain?” There it was again, that quiet courage. She wanted to flee. He could feel the urge fluttering within her like a trapped bird. Yet she stood where she was.
There was no easy way to tell her, no segue to lessen the blow. So he gave her the truth bluntly. “That dream you told me about this morning—the one where you were standing in Fey’Bahren watching kitlings dying in the egg and you heard me vow to Sybharukai that I would find a way to save them—that was no dream. The tairen are dying, Ellysetta, and if we cannot find a way to stop it, the Fey will die with them. I asked the Eye for the key to saving the tairen and the Fey, and it sent me to you.”
Selianne pushed open her home’s small side gate and walked through the tidy garden, untying the strings of her straw bonnet as she approached the lace-curtained kitchen door. Her troubled thoughts returned as they had all afternoon to Ellysetta and her pending marriage to Rain Tairen Soul. Though Selianne could see Ellie was all but glowing with happiness, she simply couldn’t bring herself to share that joy.
Ellie was too dear a friend, and Selianne had read too much about the dangers of magic and the dread power of the infamous Rain Tairen Soul for her to consider this marriage a happy occasion. Far better if Ellie had wed that brute Den Brodson—or even the lecherous old gilding Master Norble Weazman. At least the harm they could do would only be physical. The Fey could control people’s minds—and gods only knew what else—with their terrible magic.
Selianne opened the side door and let herself into her small, sunny kitchen. “Mother?” she called as she hung her bonnet on a peg by the door. “Bannon, Cerlissa, Mama’s home.” The kitchen was empty, and she couldn’t hear the children. “Mother?”
She walked down a short hallway to the main room and froze in sudden fear. A man stood over the sleeping bodies of her children as they lay on a blanket laid out before the hearth. Her mother stood motionless beside the hallway entrance, wearing a vacant look.
The man turned, his vivid blue-green eyes finding Seli
anne without hesitation, and a wave of ice washed over her. Though she could place neither his name nor his face, the sight of him seemed dreadfully familiar—like a vision from one of the dark nightmares that had plagued her these past few days since the Fey had come to Celieria.
A smile spread across his handsome face. “Ah, Selianne, there you are. We were beginning to worry.”
Her hand clutched at her chest where a cold ache began to throb. She took a frantic half step towards her children, then gave a choked cry and stopped again at the sight of the wavy black blade in the man’s hand, its sharp point gleaming a deadly threat.
“Who are you?” Her voice shook with fear. “What do you want?”
“What do I want?” The man’s eyes darkened to a terrifying shade of black, endless, bottomless, soulless black that began to sparkle with malevolent red lights. “Why, you, my pet.”
Before Selianne could react, her mother stepped in front of her, lifted an open palm, and blew a cloud of sparkling white dust in Selianne’s face. She gasped in shock, then choked as the powder filled her lungs.
A strange, sapping lethargy crept over her. Her vision blurred, and she swayed. Her hands reached out, and she heard her own voice, sounding curiously distant, mumbling in confusion, “Mama?”
Kolis Manza watched the girl succumb to the somulus powder, and despite last night’s endless orgy, he felt the familiar stirring of desire. She was undeniably lovely, with her blond hair and deep blue eyes. Even amongst the beauties of the High Mage’s palace, she would hold her own.
“Come here, Selianne.” Patient, smiling, he waved her towards him. Unlike her Eld-born mother, she’d not been soul-bound in childhood, so Kolis used drugs and careful weaves of Spirit and Azrahn to place Selianne in a dream state and plant directives that would guide her thoughts and actions without her knowledge. Like the directive that amplified her fear and distrust of the Fey, and the directive that would soon command her to deliver Kolis’s wedding present to her friend, and the one that brought her to him now. In her current trancelike state, she knew and obeyed her master, even though he’d carefully removed all memory of his visits from her conscious mind.