by C. L. Wilson
«We did it!» she crowed, laughing at the dimming, now-powerless threads.
«You did it, little sister.»
«Gaelen…oh, Gaelen, I’ve missed you. I—» Her voice broke off as her attention wandered away from the dissolving threads of Spirit and she caught sight of yet another weave.
«What is it?» Though no hint of worry colored Gaelen’s mental voice, the mere question was enough.
«Marissya!» Dax did not try to hide his concern.
«There’s another weave.» She breathed an awed sigh. «You should see it. It’s brilliant. Beautiful.» Huge bands of power were woven in a tight sphere, the thick, multi-ply ropes of the weave shining white, blue, red, green, and lavender. «Five-fold. Blessed tairen’s fire, it’s a five-fold weave and masterfully done.»
«Did Ellysetta weave it?» Rain asked.
«I don’t know. I’ll touch it to see if I can sense the maker.»
Marissya approached cautiously, surprised that she couldn’t sense power emanating from the weave. A five-fold weave with threads that thick should have throbbed with power. But this one would have been invisible if Marissya had not sent her consciousness into Ellysetta’s body. It was—like so many things about the woodcarver’s daughter—a mystery.
Marissya reached out with her senses, brushing gently against the outermost curve of the shining sphere…and gave a shrill cry as something attacked. She had a brief impression of blazing eyes and deadly fury before she found herself flying out of Ellysetta’s body, returning to her own with a painful jolt that sent her sprawling backwards into the grass.
She groaned and heard the sound echoed by several others. Hands reached out, helping her to sit up. “I’m fine,” she muttered, waving her quintet away. It wasn’t exactly true. Her head felt as if someone had taken a hammer to it.
Dax and Bel were struggling to sit up, each rubbing his head. Beside them, surrounded by glowing magic and naked poison blades, Gaelen was doing the same.
“Are you all right?” Marissya’s question to them all was instinctive, even though she knew before they nodded that they had suffered no serious harm. Her gaze rested longest on Gaelen, drinking in the sight of him. She would have thought that after a thousand years as a dahl’reisen, his appearance would have changed. But he was Fey, immortal, held forever in the beautiful perfection of his prime, as familiar to her as he ever had been.
Love filled her and flooded her eyes with shimmering tears. “Gods’ blessing on Ellysetta Baristani,” she whispered to herself, giving the spread-fingered fanning wave of the Lord of Light. She turned to Rain. “The weave wasn’t hers, Rain. The Spirit weaves were—all of them, even the most powerful ones—but the five-fold weave belonged to someone else. Someone put it there deliberately.”
“What?” Rain stared at her in surprise. “But why?”
“If I were to guess, I’d say someone wanted to be sure she would never use her magic. Maybe they even wanted to prevent anyone from realizing she had magic.”
“Why would anyone do that to her?”
“I don’t know, Rain. But I can tell you this: If the strength of that five-fold weave is a measure of what it was made to contain, her magic isn’t just strong, as we’ve suspected. It’s a vaster power than I’ve ever known.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Ellysetta groaned and peeled open her eyes. The now-familiar headache was worse than ever, pounding sharply at her temples. A loud, confusing barrage of thoughts and concerns flooded into her. She had a blurred image of faces hovering over her; then hands reached out to touch her. The cacophony in her mind grew deafening. She gave a small cry and flinched back, coming up against a solid wall of blessed quiet. She huddled closer, seeking shelter, and Rain wrapped his arms around her. Warm peace, edged with fierce protectiveness, blanketed her, muffling the noise of the others.
«What is it, shei’tani?»
«I can hear them all. In my mind, all at once, I can hear them.»
“Shield yourselves,” Rain commanded. “Your thoughts disturb the Feyreisa.”
Immediately the voices quieted, though sensations of surprise and curiosity rose sharply.
“Ve ta dor,” Marissya said. “Ve ku’jian vallar.”
You are in pain. Allow me to help you. For the first time, Ellysetta understood how hard it was for Marissya to stand there, waiting patiently for permission to weave comfort, while Ellysetta’s headache beat at them both.
«Do not fear Marissya, shei’tani. She means you no harm.»
“I know.” Ellysetta frowned. That was no lie. She knew Marissya wanted only to heal the headache, nothing more. She knew it as surely as she’d ever known anything in her life. It was as if she could see into the other woman’s mind, into her soul even, and find her intentions shining like a beacon.
Ellysetta looked at Dax, wondered what he was thinking, and the answer was simply there. He was worried for his mate; she was so weary, yet would not cease trying to heal Ellysetta. He distrusted Gaelen vel Serranis, no matter what the Feyreisa had done to make his scar disappear, no matter even that Marissya believed he had been returned to them without a taint of evil.
Ellysetta’s gaze moved from Fey to Fey, plucking thoughts from their minds as easily as picking wildflowers in a meadow. Many thoughts bordered on reverent awe. She could take the scar from a dahl’reisen and restore his soul! She was a gift from the gods, or perhaps a god herself, sent to save them. She flinched away from those thoughts, even more quickly than she flinched from the darker suspicions of a few of the warriors, who were thinking that in taking the scar from a dahl’reisen, she had overturned the judgment of the gods and upset the balance of millennia of Fey law. To change that which the gods had ordained could never be good, no matter how wonderful it seemed at first.
Ellysetta sought out the dahl’reisen whose scar she had supposedly removed, found him ringed by watchful warriors. She skimmed his mind and discovered his thoughts were as easy to read as the others. Stunned disbelief was foremost in his mind, followed by joy at the unexpected treasure of standing in his sister’s presence and causing her not even the slightest twinge of pain. Pale, ice-blue eyes met Ellysetta’s. He knew what she was doing, knew she was plucking thoughts from the minds of all the Fey, knew she was in his mind now.
«There is nothing I would hide from you, ki’falla’sheisan.» His mental voice was calm and steady, a rock of unwavering acceptance, completely devoid of fear. «My mind and my soul, which you have restored from despair, are open to you without reservation. Though I warn you there are memories of things that would make a shei’dalin weep.»
Even with his permission, she shied away from sifting through his mind while he was watching her. She turned instead to Rain, but his thoughts were completely hidden from her. She touched his hand and sighed in relief when his concern touched her senses. That much, at least, had not changed.
At her touch he glanced down at her. «Shei’tani, will you not let Marissya at least try to relieve your pain?» A small frown creased his brow.
Squeezing Rain’s hand, she turned to the shei’dalin. “If it will give you peace to heal me, then do so.” For the first time, she wasn’t afraid to accept Marissya’s touch, because she knew the other woman only wanted to stop the pain that Ellysetta’s headache was causing them both.
As Marissya raised her hand, Ellysetta realized she could actually feel her summoning her magic, could see the swelling glow as it responded to her call and watch her spin the power into shining thread that she then wove together in a visible pattern. Lavender Spirit, green Earth, and cool white Air whispered through her, soothing clenched muscles and throbbing nerves. Then it was done, and Marissya leaned back into her truemate’s strength, utterly spent.
Ellysetta touched her temple. The headache was still there, but muted. “Beylah vo.”
“It is my honor to serve the Feyreisa,” the healer replied. Her gaze went again to her brother, and stayed there. “You have truly wrought a miracle. There is not
hing I could ever do to repay you.”
“He is healed, then?” Rain asked. “No hint of dahl’reisen in him?”
“He and my sister Marikah walked the earth a thousand years before my birth. Gaelen’s soul was dark from war long before I knew him, but even that is gone now.” She stepped towards Gaelen, waving away the instinctive protests of Dax and her quintet as she reached out and laid hands upon her brother. “He is as unshadowed as an infant.” Suddenly, there were tears in Marissya’s eyes, and she flung her arms around her brother, clinging tight.
Over his sister’s shoulder, Gaelen met Ellysetta’s gaze and his voice sounded in her mind, «For this moment alone, I owe you my soul.» His ice-blue eyes squeezed shut, and his face drew tight in lines of intense, barely checked emotion as he returned his sister’s embrace.
Ellysetta turned her face into Rain’s chest. “For once,” she whispered, “it appears I may have done something right with this magic you’ve awakened in me.”
He stroked a hand in her hair. “What you have done is a miracle, as Marissya says.”
“Ki’falla’sheisan…” Most honored lady. The deep, baritone voice sounded behind her. The voice was slightly raspy, as if rarely used, but the tones were familiar. She’d heard them in her mind just a moment ago.
She turned. The man known and feared throughout Celieria as the Dark Lord swept into a graceful bow so deep that his brow nearly touched the ground. He straightened as gracefully as he had bowed, towering over her own not-inconsiderable height by more than a head.
“Ki’falla’sheisan,” the Dark Lord repeated. “I am Gaelen vel Serranis, brother of the shei’dalin Marissya v’En Solande and once a proud warrior of the Fey. I have been dahl’reisen for the last thousand years, the most lost of all lost souls, but you have restored me.”
“I am Ellysetta Baristani, Ser vel Serranis. And in truth I don’t know what I did or how I did it, but you are welcome all the same.”
“You are not what I expected. You are…innocent.” The pale gaze sharpened, grew so intent that Ellysetta could almost feel his look like a physical touch, probing, as if he were searching for something. Then Gaelen’s face cleared, and he dropped to his knees before her. “Ellysetta Baristani, truemate of the Tairen Soul, of my own free will, I pledge my life and my soul to your protection. None shall harm you while in life or death I have power to prevent it.” Slowly, so as not to alarm the many warriors ringed around them, he unsheathed a black Fey’cha and drew the blade across his palm. Fisting his hand, he let six drops of blood splash on the knife. “This I do swear with my own life’s blood, in Fire and Air and Earth and Water, in Spirit and Azrahn. I do ask that this pledge be witnessed.”
Utter stillness fell over the park. The Dark Lord knelt there before her, his head lifted proudly, his eyes never wavering from hers as the silence stretched out. A muscle worked in Gaelen’s jaw. “She restored my soul. Lute’asheiva is my right.”
“Your right?” Rain repeated. “You lost all rights the day you turned down the Dark Path. You laid dahl’reisen hands on my truemate, and that should have earned you death. Instead, she cleansed the darkness from your soul. That doesn’t mean I trust you, vel Serranis.”
Gaelen shifted his steady gaze from Ellysetta to Rain. “I serve no other master, despite what you may believe, and with my soul sworn to her service, I never shall.” When still Rain did not witness the pledge, he added, “You should be leaping at the chance to witness my oath. Lute’asheiva guarantees I can never betray her.”
“Rain?” Ellysetta touched his hand as the silence stretched out again.
He stared hard, with cold, cold eyes, at the former dahl’reisen. “If ever, even by accident, you betray her or bring her to harm, vel Serranis, your life is forfeit. Only I will not send Fey to kill you. I will send the tairen. And there will be no next life for you.”
Galen’s pupils lengthened to narrow slits. “I would have it no other way.”
“Then your oath is witnessed.” Rain said. The words seemed torn from him.
“Witnessed,” Bel echoed, followed by the rest of Ellysetta’s quintet, Marissya, and Dax, then all the other Fey in the park.
The blade in Gaelen’s hand flashed bright, sealing the bond. He offered the blade to her, handle-first. “Your shei’tan is your first protector, kem’falla. Know that I am your second.”
“Third,” Bel corrected.
Gaelen met Bel’s hard gaze with his own. “Third,” he acknowledged, then smiled faintly. “For now.”
Ellysetta accepted the proffered blade. “Thank you, Ser vel Serranis.”
Bright green surrounded the former dahl’reisen’s hands, then dimmed to reveal a platinum chain and sheath, which he extended to her. “To you I am Gaelen, kem’falla.”
“Why did you come here, vel Serranis?” Rain broke in. “You were dahl’reisen, and you entered a city occupied by a shei’dalin. Just for passing through the gate, your life was forfeit. Surely you knew that.”
“I knew.” The Dark Lord rose to his feet in one lithe movement. “I came to protect my sister. The Eld are preparing an attack. They may already be here.”
A sudden gust of cool night wind swept through the park. Ellie shivered.
Gaelen’s eyes narrowed. “Your shei’tani is cold, Tairen Soul, and weary.” Green Earth blazed first in Kieran’s hands, then a moment later in Gaelen’s. “I will tell you what I know, but see to her comfort first.” He held out a cape of soft blue wool. Behind him, the fur-lined velvet cloak that Kieran had just completed dissolved back into the elements.
Rain wrapped the blue wool around his truemate’s shoulders. “Ellysetta and I will fly back to the palace. Join us there immediately, vel Serranis. I have many questions for you, and you have much to explain.” He swept an imperious look at the Fey surrounding him. They stepped back to give their king room to summon the Change.
As he shimmered from Fey to tairen, the power that radiated from him washed over Ellysetta like a shower of hot rain. She shuddered, feeling her skin tighten with prickling awareness. Rain Tairen Soul turned his massive head and purred low and deep. His wings stretched out, rising high on his back, then spreading wide, fully extended in the male tairen’s gesture of strength and dominance. She walked to his side and closed her eyes as Air swirled her upwards. Her hands buried themselves deep in the soft fur on his neck, and with a roar, Rain Tairen Soul leapt into the night sky.
As the Tairen Soul and his mate winged away, Kieran approached the man who was his uncle. There was a challenging light in the younger man’s eyes. “I hold Earth in the Feyreisa’s primary. It was my place to make her cloak.”
The infamous Fey met Kieran’s gaze. “You weren’t fast enough. She stood there shivering while you fussed with fur and velvet. Extravagance has its uses, young Fey, but expedience is better. You serve the Feyreisa. Learn to serve her well in all things.”
Kieran stiffened. “I was only a moment or two behind you.”
“You stand outside the Fading Lands. A moment or two could mean her life.”
“It was just a cloak to ward off the chill.”
“And what will it be the next time? You’ve already failed her once. Where were you when she laid hands on the most murderous dahl’reisen who ever lived?” Leaving Kieran speechless, Gaelen vel Serranis turned and broke into a run, swiftly catching, then outstripping the other Fey as they ran towards the palace.
The five warriors of Ellysetta’s primary shared a fulminating look, then burst into their own land-eating run, racing after the Dark Lord.
Rain and Ellysetta reached the palace first. Her quintet traversed the distance on foot with surprising speed and arrived well before any of the others. Ellysetta was sitting at the secretary in Rain’s suite, penning a note to her parents, when Bel burst through the doors. The other members of the quintet followed so swiftly that all five warriors nearly ended up in a heap on the floor. They were breathless and flushed, perspiration trickling down the sides of thei
r faces.
Kieran bent over, hands on his knees, and dragged air into his lungs. “Well done, brothers. We beat the smug chervil.”
“You all look like you could use a drink.” Cool and unwinded, Gaelen smiled at the new arrivals from the sofa near the window. “Water? Or perhaps something a little stronger to help you regain your strength?”
Kieran bared his teeth and snarled. Bel cursed quietly and straightened. “How did you manage it?” he asked, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his arm. “We passed you outside on the palace steps.”
“Did you?” Gaelen rose with a single fluid motion. “Are you sure?”
“That was Spirit?”
Vel Serranis shrugged. “I am a master of it.”
“As am I. If it was Spirit, I would have known.”
“Mmm. But then, I do have at least a thousand years on you, Belliard vel Jelani. And countless lifetimes more experience.”
With a casual arrogance that set Rain’s teeth on edge, Gaelen promptly commandeered the small stone-topped bar in the corner and began handing out glasses of ice water and taunting evaluations of the quintet’s shortcomings with equal measure. Judging from the fulminating looks in the warriors’ eyes, they were none too happy to have the former dahl’reisen appoint himself their chatok, their mentor in the Dance of Knives.
“So the Eld are on the move, planning an attack, and you came to warn your sister,” Rain said. “And how did you come by this information?”
Gaelen shrugged and left off taunting the others for the moment. He selected a crystal goblet and pulled the stopper from a flagon of pinalle. “My men reported Eld troop movements along the western border not long after I stumbled across an Eld raiding party in Norban.”
“Your men?”
“The Brotherhood of Shadows. Dahl’reisen who still protect the Fading Lands.” He poured a stream of pale blue liquid into his goblet, filling it generously. “We guard the borders against Eld attack.”