Lord of the Fading Lands (The Tairen Soul Book 1)

Ellie’s pillow smelled like Rain. She turned and pressed it to her face, remembering the scent and feel of his skin pressed close to hers. He’d brought her home last night, then scandalized her by sneaking in through her bedroom window after her parents went to bed. Despite her halfhearted efforts to shoo him out, he’d stayed long past a decent bell, lying with her on her narrow bed, holding her close. They’d talked in quiet whispers about everything and nothing: their childhoods, their parents, Rain’s life before the Wars. She’d even come close to telling him about her childhood exorcism and the terrors that still haunted her, but fear of replacing that shining, affectionate light in his eyes with suspicion and horror had kept her silent.

Finally, regretfully, he’d left her a few bells before dawn. Not long after he’d left, weariness had tugged her eyes closed, but for the first time in over a week, no nightmare plagued her, as if Rain’s presence had kept her troubling dreams away.

Smiling at the fancy, she set the pillow aside and sat up. It was early yet. Outside, the first soft rays of the Great Sun had barely begun to lighten the horizon, and judging by the silence from the room next door, her parents were not yet stirring. She rose, grabbed the robe from the wall hook opposite her bed, and slipped out of her bedroom. Downstairs, her quintet was waiting, Belliard vel Jelani among them.

‘Bel!’ she cried softly. She rushed across the room, ignoring his shocked look to throw her arms around him in a fierce, happy embrace. ‘I’m so glad you’re safe.’ She pulled back. ‘Ravel told me they’d chained you in sel’dor. Are you all right?’ She grabbed his hand and pushed back the leather cuff to inspect his wrist. Please, gods, let him not have suffered the slightest lasting hurt on her behalf.

His fingers curled around hers, warm and steady. ‘I’m fine, kem’falla.”

‘And getting better by the moment,’ Kieran quipped, smiling.

‘Aiyah,’ Bel agreed. He cocked his head to one side, cobalt eyes shining with affection and pride. ‘Ve stral miora la sa’dol stral liss, kem’feyreisa.”

‘I weave joy like the Great Sun weaves light?’ she repeated.

His brows rose. ‘A perfect translation. You’ve been practicing.”

‘Ravel and his men worked with me all yesterday afternoon while we were waiting for word about you.’ The afternoon of immersion had helped tremendously. Once she’d figured out how the words were pronounced—and which vowels and consonants tended to be dropped or stressed when spoken—she’d been able to associate the sounds of spoken Feyan with her thorough understanding of the written language. A few more weeks and she’d be speaking like a native of the Fading Lands. ‘Are you truly all right? And what do you mean, I weave joy?”

‘You were sharing your soul’s warmth again, kem’falla.’ The rare beauty of Bel’s smile brought tears to her eyes. ‘And, aiyah, I am truly all right. I deserved much worse than a few short bells in sel’dor chains for allowing you to come to harm while under my protection.”

‘Don’t say that!’ she protested. ‘What happened to me wasn’t your fault. No one could have known what that boy was going to do. Even I didn’t realize he’d stabbed me until I saw my own blood.’ She squeezed his hands. ‘You aren’t to blame in any way.”

‘You are too kind, kem’falla, but yesterday I did not prove worthy of your trust. I promise to fulfill my bloodsworn oath better in the future.’ Bel dropped to one knee and bowed low, touching his forehead to the backs of her hands. ‘May every blade aimed at you find my flesh instead, and may I deal death to your enemies without hesitation and never fail you again.’ He lifted shining eyes. ‘Miora felah ti feyreisa.’

Garbed once more as the unmemorable Merchant Black, Kolis Manza stood in the shadows of the garden beside Selianne Pyerson’s small house. Through the curtained windows of the side door, he could see Tuelis and her daughter sitting at a table in the home’s tiny kitchen, two steaming cups of keflee and a plate of small frosted cakes before them. As he watched, Selianne took a sip of the keflee her mother had prepared. A few chimes later, she slumped in the chair. The kitchen door opened, and Kolis walked past Tuelis to her daughter’s side.

The vacant expression on Selianne’s face didn’t change as he slit the soft flesh of her inner wrist with his Mage blade and lifted her wrist to his mouth, drinking the salty sweetness of her blood directly from her vein. He drank until he could feel the buzzing connection of his previous bindings and the shadows of his first two Mage Marks darkened the swell of her left breast. He gave the small incision a final lick and closed it with a whisper of Earth.

As carefully as before, he summoned the sweet darkness of Azrahn, wrapped it in insulating Spirit, then plunged the binding magic deep into Selianne’s heart. Her eyes went wide, and despite the powerful sedative she’d ingested, she gave a soft cry and struggled against his hold.

‘Don’t fight it, pet,’ he crooned. ‘Remember your sweet Cerlissa.’ The threat worked, as it had at their previous two meetings, and the barriers she’d thrown up against him wavered. ‘Yes, pet. That’s it. ‘ He held the penetrating cold of the Mark until it extinguished the last defiant threads of her current resistance.

Unlike her mother, Selianne had been born in Celieria, not Eld. She’d not received the bonds of blood that were made at birth for all Eld’s children, nor been subjected to the ritual binding of souls that started on the first anniversary of the child’s birth and were completed on the day the child turned six. Because of that, he’d been forced to bind her himself, using a less effective six-day method. A knife at the throat of her infant had convinced her to accept the first blooding and Mage Mark. Sedating herbs and threats had coerced her acceptance of the second—and now the third. But Selianne was no willing follower. She would continue to fight his control until she bore the full six Marks, and even then his hold over her would require effort to enforce.

He trailed a finger down the side of her face. Spirit and tiny, imperceptible threads of Azrahn sank into her skin. Though he could not yet force her compliance or inhabit her body without either her consent or a forceful use of Azrahn, he could plant directives in her mind and guide her thoughts and actions without her knowledge.

‘Your mother told me you are having second thoughts about serving as Ellysetta Baristani’s Honoria’ His thumb brushed across her lips. ‘You must not let fear stop you from doing what is right. Go to the Cathedral this morning, but be sure you tell Ellysetta and her mother how concerned you are. The Fey aren’t to be trusted. Look how they murdered that unfortunate boy and got away with it.”

He wove the whispered instructions into her mind on compulsion threads of Spirit and Azrahn. When he was done, he wiped the memory of his visit from her mind, leaving only a subconscious certainty that the people she loved were in terrible danger if Ellysetta’s marriage to Rain Tairen Soul could not be stopped.

‘Selianne!’ Standing on the steps of the Grand Cathedral, Ellysetta held out her hands to her approaching best friend and masked trepidation behind a bright smile. After yesterday’s attack, she’d realized that Rain had been right about Fey enemies targeting her, and she worried that Selianne, with her Eld blood, might be in danger because of their friendship.

But what was she to do? Mama had gone on and on to Greatfather Tivrest about how Selianne and Ellie were inseparable friends and what a beacon of light Selianne was, what a dedicated daughter and wife and mother. Ellie’s quintet had listened to every word. Rescinding the invitation now would not only hurt Selianne deeply, it would make her the object of Fey suspicion. Considering Rain’s deep-seated hatred of the Eld and Bel’s lethal oath this morning, Ellysetta feared what the Fey would do if they discovered Selianne’s heritage.

‘Look at you. You look like a princess’ Selianne stood back to admire Ellie’s exquisite new gown of lavender silk and Elvian lace. ‘Kelissande would kill for that gown. And your hair is stunning.’ Thanks to Kiel and Kieran’s artistic efforts this morning, Ellie’s thick tangle of curls had been pulled back and tamed into a sleek cascade decorated with delicate amethyst flowers that trembled like fairy wings with every turn of her head. ‘Are those wisp-roses?”

Ellie started to touch the fragile flowers tucked into her hair, then stopped. ‘They are.”

‘They die at the first harsh touch. How on earth can you wear them in your hair without destroying them?’ Selianne’s confused look cleared. ‘Magic,’ she said flatly.

Ellie nodded, determined not to feel guilty despite Selianne’s disapproving expression. ‘Rain put a protective weave around them.’ That had been the second part of his gift, and the second layer of its meaning: fragile life protected by unyielding Fey strength. These flowers, so rare and precious the blooms rarely lasted more than a day, would bloom forever so long as Rain’s weave stood strong.

Selianne tucked an arm through Ellie’s and lowered her voice as they walked into the cooler shadows of the cathedral. Ellysetta’s mother was up at the altar, speaking with Greatfather Tivrest. ‘How are you, really? I read about what happened yesterday.’ Selianne asked.

Ellie grimaced. Everyone, it seemed, had read about what happened. The flood of pamphlets yesterday was nothing compared to the storm that all but papered the streets this morning, decrying the release of the child murderer Belliard vel Jelani. The crowds outside the Baristani home had doubled since yesterday thanks to all the protestors, rabble- rousers, and Brethren of Radiance fanatics joining their ranks.

Marna couldn’t quite decide whether she was more worried about the damage to her family’s reputation and Sol’s business or enraged at the gall of the fanatical busybodies who had decided they had some right to camp outside the Baristanis’ home and destroy the peace of the neighborhood. She’d even appealed to Rain, saying, ‘What in the Haven’s name good is your magic if you can’t make that rabble clear off?’ When Ellie had stared at her in shock, Mama had shrugged defensively and said, ‘Well? It’s clear the Fey aren’t going anywhere. Since they’re determined to stay, they might as well make themselves useful.”

The gods weave as the gods will, Ellie thought with a smile. She would have volunteered for getting stabbed earlier if she’d known how it would alter Mama’s opinion of the Fey.

Dragging her thoughts back to the present, she smiled at Selianne. ‘I’m fine, Sel. Lady Marissya healed me and no matter what those pamphleteers are saying, Bel didn’t kill that boy—and don’t believe for one second that child was an innocent bystander, either.’ Quickly Ellie recounted what had happened. ‘Rain thinks the Eld may be behind it. He’s been trying to keep the northern borders closed, and the accusations leveled against Bel seem specifically designed to rouse more suspicion and ill will between the nobles and the Fey.”

Selianne glanced at the surrounding Fey. ‘Can you have them do that privacy thing?”

‘Of course’ Ellie made the request, and Bel spun his weave in a matter of seconds. ‘It’s done. What is it, Sel?”

Selianne turned her back to the Fey and reached out to clasp Ellie’s hands. ‘The nobles aren’t the only ones feeling suspicious. Ellie, I’m serving as your Honoria because you’re my dearest friend in the whole world, but I wouldn’t be any kind of friend if I didn’t tell you how worried I am. I don’t think you should wed the Tairen Soul. I’m terrified of what will happen to you if you do.”

Ellysetta stared at her in surprise. ‘What? Selianne—”

‘Hear me out, Ellie. What do you know—what does anyone really know—about the Fey? They’re magic. And no matter how beautiful they are or what the legends say about them, not one of us really knows what goes on behind the Faering Mists. Once you go to the Fading Lands, you’ll be locked away from all your family and friends, caged by magic just like those flowers in your hair. Who’s to say what will happen to you then?”

Ellysetta pulled her hands free. ‘Selianne, don’t be silly. Rain’s not plotting to imprison me. He’s been nothing but kind and attentive and caring.”

‘Of course he has. You’re still in Celieria. But don’t you realize, the only woman to leave the Fading Lands since the Mage Wars is the shei’dalin Marissya? Once you’re through the Faering Mists, the Fey can make up any story they like about why you don’t wish to return, and no one in Celieria will be able to gainsay them. Not even your family.”

Ellie gave a troubled frown as a bobble of doubt rose inside her. Guilt followed fast behind. Simply contemplating such an idea seemed so disloyal to Rain.

As if sensing that brief doubt, Selianne leaned forward. ‘Ellie, my mother has a friend. A sea captain. He has no love for the Fey, and he’s offered to take you someplace where you’ll be safe should you choose not to wed the Tairen Soul.’ Ellysetta reared back in surprise. ‘No.”

‘Ellie—”

‘No! I could never do that. Even if I wanted to leave Rain—which I don’t!—Papa would never condone breaking another betrothal. He wouldn’t have allowed it the first time if the king hadn’t interceded. And if I ran off by myself, my family would be shunned, beggared. You know that, Selianne. I would rather sacrifice myself a thousand times than bring such hurt to them. How could you even think I could be so selfish?”

Tears pooled in Selianne’s wide, guileless blue eyes. ‘I’m just so worried for you. I would do anything to keep you safe.”

‘But not at the expense of my family, Selianne. You’d buy me only misery at that price.”

‘I’m sorry.’ She wiped at her eyes and sniffled.

‘As am I. Please, let’s speak of it no more. You obviously weren’t thinking clearly to make such an offer. Agreed?”

Selianne nodded with obvious reluctance. ‘If that’s what you want, Ellie.”

‘It is.’ With a forced smile, Ellysetta hugged her friend and tried not to flinch. Selianne’s embrace felt oddly oppressive. Just my imagination, Ellie thought. As was the trick of light that made Selianne’s eyes seem to flicker with black shadows, reminding Ellie unpleasantly of her young attacker. Still .. .

‘Sel,’ she whispered hesitantly, ‘is everything all right with you? You’re not in any sort of trouble, are you?”

Selianne pulled back. ‘Me? I’m not the one marrying the man who scorched the world.”

‘It’s just that Rain warned me that Mages could control anyone born in Eld.’ She bit her lip. When Selianne didn’t respond, she added, ‘Your mother was born there. She didn’t leave until she married your father. According to Rain, she could be used to hurt you … and me.”

Any hint of shadow in Selianne’s eyes was gone now—as was her earlier guilt—replaced by horror. With a quick twist, she broke free. ‘Did you tell him about her?”

Ellie’s jaw dropped. ‘Of course not! I would never do that!”

‘Then how would he know it?”

‘He doesn’t. I didn’t mean that.’ How had this gotten twisted around? ‘He wasn’t talking about your mother specifically. He was talking about the Eld in general, and how the Mages can control them from childhood.”

‘Ellie, my mother loves me. And you too, for that matter. She’d die before doing anything to hurt either of us”

‘I know she loves you, Sel. That’s not what I meant. I—”

‘I think you’d better not say anything more. It would break my mother’s heart to know you could even think something so vile. She’s not some … some slave of the Mages.”

‘Sel… please … I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply anything bad about your mother.”

Selianne sniffed. ‘We’d better go. Your mother and the Archbishop are waiting.”

Ellie’s brows climbed halfway up her forehead. ‘Selianne, you little prig. I just forgave you for suggesting I should abandon my honor and my family and run off with some sea captain. And now you’re all in a twist because I’m worried the Eld might try to hurt you and your mother to get to me?’ She laughed in disbelief. ‘I was stabbed yesterday. Can you not understand why I might be a little more suspicious than usual?”

Selianne’s irritation fled. ‘What an idiot I’m being. I swear I don’t know what’s come over me’ She shook her head. ‘I’m supposed to be your friend and beacon, and here I am being an obnoxious ninnywit. I’m sorry. Friends?”

‘Of course. The very best’ They hugged again, a tight squeeze, and this time Ellie sensed nothing but genuine concern and love in the embrace. When they broke apart, she saw her mother gesturing with escalating ill temper. ‘I guess we’d better go,’ she said. ‘Greatfather Tivrest is getting impatient.”

Ellie signaled to Bel, and the privacy weave dissolved. She and Selianne hurried to join Lauriana and the Archbishop.

The initial devotions of the Bride’s Blessing were a lengthy, sonorous affair, full of prayers and hymns and meditation. Fortunately, everything proceeded smoothly. When they were done, Ellie gave Selianne and her mother quick hugs and hurried home to meet Rain and Master Fellows.

Lauriana stayed after Ellie’s departure in order to discuss the upcoming services and the wedding schedule with the Archbishop. To her surprise, Selianne was waiting for her when she left the cathedral a full bell later. ‘Selianne? What are you still doing here?”

The young woman Lauriana had known since childhood twisted her hands together in the same way she and Ellie always had when confessing a misdeed. ‘I needed to talk to you, Madame Baristani, and I couldn’t do it in front of Ellysetta and the Fey.”

‘Talk to me about what, Selianne?”

‘About Ellie, Madam Baristani, and about the Fey.’ Selianne clasped her hands. ‘I’m very worried for her. Very worried.’

Rain wasn’t alone when Ellie returned home. Marissya and Dax were with him, and a vehement argument—one that clearly had begun quite a while ago—was in progress. The three of them fell silent when Ellie walked in, but the tension in the room remained so thick it set her teeth on edge.

‘What is it?’ she asked. ‘What’s happened?”

‘Nothing,’ Rain said. He stalked off to one corner and stood there, arms crossed, glaring out the window.

‘Not nothing,’ Marissya corrected. ‘Tell her, Rain. Tell the Feyreisa what her shei’tan has been doing. She has a right to know.”

Ellie stared at Marissya as if she’d grown a second head. The shei’dalin actually sounded … angry. Furious even. And with her veils thrown back, her cheeks hot with color, her appearance confirmed it. If she weren’t seeing the proof with her own eyes, Ellie would never have believed it possible. She glanced at Dax. His head was down, shoulders slumped, and he was pinching the bridge of his nose as if he were painfully resigned to suffer through an argument he’d already heard many times over.

‘Tell her, Rain,’ Marissya barked again. When he didn’t, the shei’dalin turned to Ellie, hands on hips, and said, ‘He’s been using the Lords of Council for target practice!”

Ellie’s jaw dropped and she stared at Rain with wide, disbelieving eyes. ‘You didn’t.”

Flags of red darkened his cheeks.

She put her hands to her face. ‘Oh, gods, you did.”

His jaw clenched. ‘It wasn’t like that. I didn’t start firing off Fey’cha by the dozen. It was only one Fey’cha, and I was making a point.”

‘The point had to be made with a weapon?”

‘I was trying to explain about the return weave that is spun into Fey weapons when they’re forged, to prove that finding a Fey’cha where a crime has been committed doesn’t necessarily mean dahl’reisen are involved. I thought a demonstration would be more effective.”

‘He nearly pinned Lord Bevel’s ears to his chair,’ Marissya interjected.

‘I used black,’ Rain exclaimed when Ellysetta continued to gape at him in horrified disbelief. ‘That insolent little bogrot was never in any danger.”

‘That insolent little bogrot is a lord whose vote we needed in Council,’ Marissya retorted. ‘I asked you to meet with those nobles to befriend them, not alienate them still more. They’re never going to support us, Rain, if you can’t show them more than anger and threats.”

‘I tried reason—and that got me nowhere. If they’re all too blind and too arrogant to secure their own safety, then let them choose death! After these continued affronts to Fey honor, this pervasive contempt for our many sacrifices, I no longer care what happens to these fools!”

‘Well, I care,’ Ellysetta said.

Rain turned towards her in surprise. Dax started to say something, but Marissya caught his arm and shook her head, then turned to watch Ellysetta with an encouraging look. «Speak, little sister. You can make him hear.»

‘This is my homeland,’ Ellysetta said. ‘These are my people. My family. My friends. Hate the nobles, if you must, but they aren’t the only ones in danger.”

‘Ellysetta—’ Rain stepped towards her. Her raised hand halted him.

‘No, listen to me. If the Mages are rising again, as you believe, then Celieria is in danger. We have no defense against magic. Without you—without the Fey—we will fall to them. You know that.”

‘You speak of Celieria as if you still belong with them and not with us,’ Rain said.

‘You have all accepted me as if I were one of you, and for that I’m more grateful than I can say, but I am Celierian, Rain. This is my homeland. What happiness can we ever find together if I abandon my country and my people to destruction?”

He went very still. ‘Are you saying you will refuse our bond if I cannot stop the Eld agreement from passing?’

‘No, of course not—”

‘Because Celierians are free to make their own choices, but that freedom has a price. They must live with the consequences of their choices, just as the Fey do. I have warned Dorian. I have told him that opening the borders will end the alliance between our two countries. I have begged him to invoke primus. He could put an end to this right now, but he will not. Without stone-hard proof, he will not act against the wishes of his Council. They have usurped his power, and he allows them to do it.”

‘And if the Council passes the agreement because you made no effort to prevent it, what then?’ she returned, refusing to back down. ‘If you’re right about the Mages reconstituting their power, then abandoning Celieria to them will only give them millions more souls to claim, millions more soldiers to swell the ranks of their armies. Can the Fey afford that?”

The corner of Rain’s mouth lifted in a snarl.

‘What I’m saying,’ Ellysetta concluded quietly, ‘is that you must at least try. It doesn’t matter how you feel about the nobles, because this isn’t just about them.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘I’m terrified about tonight’s dinner. I’m terrified that my presence will do more harm than good. I know the nobles will be watching every move I make, and many are likely hoping to find something to mock, something with which to discredit you. But King Dorian asked us to attend, sand so I will go, because, no matter what I think, I know you believe the Mages are a very real threat, one that must be stopped. I’ve done my best to adapt, to change how I dress, how I speak, how I act, because I know you’ll need every advantage you can muster to win over the Council of Lords, and I couldn’t bear it if I were the cause of your failure.”

‘I’ve already told you, you don’t have to change. You are perfect just as you are.”

‘That is Rain, my mate, speaking, not Rain, the Fey king. I’m a woodcarver’s daughter, a commoner without a drop of noble blood in my veins. There are lords who will consider it an insult even to have me in the same room with them. And that makes me a liability.”

He made a sound—half guttural snarl, half bitter curse— and came to her. His hands reached for her, slid over her cheeks into the thick spirals of her hair. Gentle, unyielding pressure tilted her head back, forcing her to look up into his face.

‘You are our queen, our Feyreisa. You are the beacon that shines for us all. And if a single one among them offers insult, they will all feel the edge of my wrath.”

Her hands covered his. He would not hear the truth. Not on this. But he could not afford to let anger blind him. Not if he was right about the Mages. ‘Promise me, Rain. Promise that regardless of what insults the nobles may hurl—at you, at the sacrifices of the Fey, even at me—you will not abandon my people to the Mages.”

‘You cannot ask a Fey to ignore insults to his mate.’

‘But I’m asking all the same.”

‘Shei’tani—”

‘Promise me, Rain.’ She held his gaze, refusing to back down. ‘Promise me, shei’tan.”

His eyes closed in defeat. It was the first time she’d called him shei’tan, and the sound of that single, much-longed-for word on her lips shattered his resistance. Husband, beloved, mate of her soul: when she called him that, he could deny her nothing. He bowed his head and brought her hands to his lips for a kiss, then pressed his forehead against them in a gesture of surrender. ‘I cannot promise to hold my temper, but I will try. And for your sake alone, shei’tani, I will not allow insult to prevent me from fighting for Celieria’s safety.”

A muffled sound came from the direction of the front door. Master Fellows stood on the threshold, his eyes suspiciously shiny. ‘Now, that,’ he declared, ‘was the grace of a queen.’

Accompanied by Jiarine Montevero and two more of her ladies-in-waiting, Annoura walked through the palace kitchens, personally inspecting the preparations for tonight’s state dinner as she did for every such occasion. As much as it annoyed her to throw a lavish reception for the Tairen Soul and his peasant bride, she would never let it be said that Annoura of Celieria had not entertained her guests to the fullest extent of her considerable palace resources. Opulence and perfection were the hallmarks of her reign. To offer less than that tonight would reflect badly on her.

Duan Parlo Vincenze stood beside her, clad in a pristine white chef’s robe, detailing the final changes to the menu while she and her ladies sampled the tidbits he’d prepared for them.

‘Thank you, Duan Vincenze,’ Annoura said when he concluded his presentation and she had finished tasting his sample dishes. ‘You have outdone yourself once again.”

The chef bowed and thanked her effusively and returned to his kitchens as the queen and her entourage moved on to the palace wine cellars. Master Gillam, the man who personally inspected and approved every beverage that found its way to the royal table, was waiting for them by the large, heavy doors that led into the cool cellars. He greeted them with a bow and led Annoura and her three ladies-in-waiting to a small table where he’d set out the suggested wines for this evening’s dinner, six in all, each carefully selected to complement Duan Vincenze’s menu.

Annoura and her ladies tasted each of the wines, and as always happened at these tastings, by the end of the fourth small glass, the women had lost some of their carefully cultivated starch and begun to laugh and share pointed jokes about other members of the court. By the sixth glass, the jokes turned toward the Fey and the Tairen Soul’s peasant- born truemate.

‘I don’t know about the rest of you, but the Tairen Soul makes me nervous.’ Lady Thea Trubol, senior lady-in- waiting to the queen gave a dramatic shiver. ‘I was there in the court the day the girl’s betrothal was broken, and honestly, ladies, there’s something positively … animal about him. Did you hear he nearly pinned back Bevel’s ears with one of those Fey’cha of his?”

Jiarine snorted. ‘With a head as big as Bevel’s, how could he have missed?”

The three ladies burst into tittering laughter, and even Annoura smiled. Bevel was an infamous lecher with a lustful appetite for very young, very innocent newcomers to the court. From serving girls to noble Seras not attached to an important family, the more helpless they were, the better he liked them.

‘Well, let’s just hope Bevel isn’t idiot enough to chase after the Fey King’s girl tonight,’ Lady Thea said. ‘You know how randy he gets after the first few glasses of pinalle.”

Jiarine burst into a fresh bout of giggles, then clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘No, no, here’s an even better idea. Wouldn’t it be amusing if the girl got drunk and made a fool of herself tonight? The Fey would never live it down!”

The women all laughed their agreement and finished the last sample of Master Gillam’s selected wines. When they were done, he led them to a smaller table in front of the open keflee pantry door and invited the women to sample the keflee blend he’d chosen to clear heads after dinner. Annoura declined the proffered cup and moved a few steps away from the rich aroma steaming from the keflee pot.

The move brought her closer to the open pantry door, and she froze at the sight of a distinctive purple silk bag sitting on one of the keflee casks. ‘Master Gillam, where did that come from? That purple bag.”

Master Gillam looked at it blankly. ‘Why … I … I .. . Your Majesty, I’m appalled to admit I don’t know”

Cup and saucer in hand, Jiarine tripped over and peered past Gillam’s shoulder into the keflee pantry. ‘Oh, that? One of the maids brought it to me yesterday, when you were with the king, Your Majesty. She said she’d found it in your office. It had the look of one of your expensive rare blends, so I had Bili, Master Gillam’s assistant, run it down here last night.’ When Annoura didn’t respond, Jiarine frowned. ‘Your Majesty? Did I do something wrong?”

‘What?’ Annoura shook her head, shoving back memories of dangerous intoxication and near betrayal. ‘Oh, no. Thank you, Lady Jiarine. And thank you, Master Gillam. You have everything well in hand, as always.”

She turned and walked quickly away from the cellars and the keflee pantry and that damnable purple bag of powdered ruin.

In Norban, Sian vel Sendaris forced a genial smile as he waited for the stocky pubkeeper of the Hound and Boar to ruminate over twenty years of memories. A full day of searching and inquiries yesterday had turned up nothing, and today wasn’t shaping up any better.

‘No,’ the pubkeeper said. ‘No, I can’t say as I recall a man named Pars Grolin.”

‘He was about this tall, with bright red hair and green eyes.’ Beside Sian, Torel vel Carlian waved his hand at chin level. ‘And may have been traveling with his baby daughter.”

‘Mmm, no, doesn’t ring a bell. Sorry.’ He finished drying the pint mug in his hand and set it on the shelf with several dozen others.

‘Well, thank you for your time.’ Sian reached a hand across the bartop.

The pubkeeper hesitated a moment, then said, ‘I served in the King’s Army as a lad. About forty-five years ago, when Fey swordmasters still taught the king’s men how to use a blade. Best damned swordsmen I ever saw’ He shook Sian’s hand. ‘One of them even took the time to teach me a thing or two when he caught me watching the practices.”

A deluge of memories rushed through Sian as he gripped the man’s hand. Images of the pubkeeper’s days in the army, of a dark-haired Fey warrior conducting training exercises, frightening images of war. Sian tried to filter out those images and concentrate on the thread he’d planted about strangers, red hair, and baby girls, but the pubkeeper’s memories of war and the Fey were very strong.

‘I was just a kid and a cannon’s mate,’ the man continued. ‘No reason for him to teach me, but he did. Enough, any- ways, so I could throw a dagger accurate at twenty paces and parry a sword thrust. And that saved my life in ’43. I’ve had a fond spot for the Fey ever since. More so than most of the folks ’round these parts.”

The handshake ended, and a final flood of images poured from the pubkeeper’s consciousness into Sian’s. Disturbing images of a priest standing in the pulpit, denouncing the Fey as soulless servants of the Dark Lord. Calling for Celieria’s people to turn from the lure of evil that wore a pretty face and cleanse Celieria of the Shadow’s servants. The town square was ablaze with some sort of bonfire, and villagers approached to throw what looked like personal belongings into the blaze. A priest with white-blond hair stood nearby, watching, his voluminous hooded cape swirling in the fire- generated winds.

‘If you don’t find news of this Grolin fellow here in town, you might try Brind Palwyn. He lives in the woods near Bracken, about thirty miles west of here, but he used to live just north, near the old quarry. His pa was a woodcutter. Your journeyman friend might have done some smithy work for Brind’s parents before they were murdered.”

Sian’s ears perked up. ‘Murdered?’ Murder was an unusual event in a sleepy little hamlet like Norban.

‘Ta. Both of them slain by brigands about twenty-three years past, their home burned to its foundations. Brind was just a lad at the time. Come to think of it, they died around the time you said your journeyman friend was in town.’ Caution clouded the pubkeeper’s previously open gaze. ‘No one ever did find the men who killed them.”

‘Pars was an honorable man, one who’d give his life defending a stranger,’ Torel assured the man. Not even seven hundred years after Pars Grolin’s death would Torel let another impugn his friend’s honor. ‘The Fey do not grant their regard lightly, nor to the unworthy.”

The pubkeeper flushed. ‘My apologies. Suspicion is second nature in the north. If you want to speak with Brind, take the King’s Road north about two miles to Carthage Road, then head west for another thirty or so. His place is just off the river, by the falls. He’s suspicious of strangers, so tell him Wilmus sent you. And have a care if you’re out past sunset. These woods aren’t the safest after nightfall.”

‘Our thanks,’ Torel said. ‘The gods’ blessings on you.’

‘What do you think, Torel?’ Sian murmured as they left the inn. ‘Should we head west to visit this fellow?”

‘Let’s finish here first. Another few bells won’t hurt.”

Torel’s lips lifted. ‘Unless you’re afraid of the woods after nightfall.”

Sian gave Torel a shove. ‘Get scorched.’ Then his expression grew serious. ‘I don’t like those memories we’ve been getting from folk about that pale-haired priest and the bonfire. Since when did the Church of Light start preaching that Fey serve the Dark Lord?”

‘Good question. That’s certainly something we should include in our report to General vel Jelani tonight.’

Ellysetta’s lesson with Master Fellows passed far more quickly than she would have liked. All too soon, the clocktower rang, and Master Fellows prepared to take his leave. ‘Thank you for everything, Master Fellows,’ Ellie said as she walked him to the door. ‘I hope I will do credit to your instruction tonight.”

‘A sentiment we both share, believe me.’ Master Fellows’s expression softened. `Just remember, don’t let anyone call you Mistress Baristani tonight. It’s Lady Ellysetta or My Lady Feyreisa. Anything less is a deliberate insult. And don’t smile; they’ll think you’re currying favor. Just be grave and gracious. Don’t fidget, don’t laugh, and for the Haven’s sake, don’t speak unless you’re directly engaged in conversation by another. The Fey have named you their queen. It is far better to remain silent and be thought aloof, than to speak and be proven a fool.”

He stepped across the threshold, then paused and turned back for one final word of advice. ‘And remember this, My Lady Feyreisa: being regal is a state of mind. Act like a queen, believe it in your heart, and a queen is what everyone will see.

As twilight settled over the city, Den entered the Inn of the Blue Pony and headed for the stairs leading to Captain Batay’s room. He’d done all the Sorrelian had asked, and he was still no closer to getting Ellie Baristani. It was time to lay down the law to the good captain. Den Brodson was no man’s lackey. He wanted results for his efforts.

‘He’s not there,’ the innkeeper said as Den passed him. Den paused and growled, ‘What did you say?”

‘The Sorrelian. He said he was going out tonight and wouldn’t be back until late. He left this for you, though.’ The innkeeper drew a sealed note from his pocket.

Den snatched the note and broke the seal, irritated that Batay had skipped out before he could catch him. Then grew more irritated by the command scrawled on the scrap of paper. A music box with paste jewels on the lid? What in the name of the Seven Hells did Batay need with something like that?

Den crumpled the note and stuffed it in his pocket. ‘When he gets in, tell him I was here. I’ll be back tomorrow’

In the private carriage he’d hired after leaving the Inn of the Blue Pony, Kolis shed the hooded cloak he’d worn to cover the nondescript clothing of Goodman Black and whispered the unmaking spell to erase Batay’s blue crossed swords tattoo from his cheek. He folded the cloak and tied his hair back in the neat queue Goodman Black wore, then sat back as the carriage rolled through the cobbled streets towards a boarding house not far from the brothel district by the wharf.

The common room there was empty, save for the house mistress, who bobbed a respectful curtsey as Goodman Black walked past her up the stairs, then bobbed again a few chimes later when a mysterious beauty in a concealing hooded cloak entered, went up the same stairs, and knocked on the door the merchant had entered.

Kolis Manza turned as the door opened and smiled at Jiarine Montevero. ‘You look ravishing, my pet. Come in, and close the door behind you.”

Half a bell later, Jiarine departed. On the bed in the room she’d just quit, Kolis’s body lay vacant and chilling while his consciousness marveled at the feel of existing inside Jiarine’s young, lithe female form.

Ellie stared at her reflection in her bedroom mirror. In less than a bell, she would be presented to the highest-ranking nobles of Celieria, and with only two brief afternoons of Master Fellows’s instruction to teach her how to comport herself in their company, she was terrified she would make a mess of it.

‘You look lovely, Ellysetta,’ her mother said from the doorway.

Ellie turned and gave her mother a searching look. Mama had been unusually quiet since returning this afternoon. ‘Do you really think so?”

‘Yes, kit, I do.”

Ellie turned back to her reflection. She did look better than she ever had before. Her first new ball gown had arrived, and it was gorgeous. Fashioned of a rich purple brocade that made her skin seem to glow, the dress hugged her torso, enhancing curves Ellie never knew she had, and the low, square neckline flattered her corseted bosom. Tight sleeves fit snugly over her upper arms, ending at her elbows in a fall of red silk-lined drapery that brushed the floor when her arms were lowered. The skirts fell in straight, flowing lines to her feet. The gown’s elegant simplicity and becoming cut made Ellie look regal rather than tall and gawky Her hair, which had been dressed by a seasoned apprentice to the queen’s own coiffeuse, was piled high, woven in an elaborate display of plaits and curls. Against one hip, Belliard’s dagger hung in Kieran’s golden sheath.

She put a hand to her throat to touch the diamond necklace Rain had given her. ‘I’m so afraid they will laugh at me, the woodcarver’s daughter pretending to be a queen.”

‘In the Lord of Light’s eyes, we’re all equally worthy’ Lauriana put her hands on Ellie’s shoulders and met her daughter’s eyes in the mirror. ‘Promise me you’ll keep to the R right Path, Ellie. Promise me that even in the Fading Lands you’ll observe your devotions and guard your soul against evil.”

‘Mama?’ Ellie turned in surprise and took her mother’s hands. ‘What’s wrong?’.

‘Just promise me.”

‘You know I will, Mama.’ But Ellie bit her lip. Apart from today at the cathedral, she hadn’t said her devotions since the day Rain Tairen Soul entered her life. Was that what her dreams were telling her? That without constant vigilance, her soul would fall into darkness? ‘I’ll say my devotions right now, with you, if you like.”

‘Would you?”

The surprise in her mother’s eyes hurt. Ellie blinked back tears. Had the last few days torn such a rift between them? ‘Of course I will.’ She took her mother’s hand and knelt beside the bed. Devotions were the one thing Ellie had always been able to share with her mother no matter what, the times when she’d always felt her mother’s love the strongest. She bent her head and closed her eyes and murmured the familiar words. ‘Holy Adelis, Lord of Light, shine your brightness upon me. Glorious Father, Sun of my Soul, grant me strength to stand against darkness. Adelis, Bright One, Lord of my Heart, bless me and keep me always in the Light.’ She gave the fanning wave of the Lord of Light.

‘Blessed be,’ Lauriana murmured. When they rose to their feet, Lauriana had tears in her eyes, and she clasped her daughter to her in a tight hug. ‘I love you, kitling.”

‘I love you, too, Mama. You’re my beacon.”

Mama stepped back, wiping her eyes with the heels of her palms. ‘Go on, then,’ she said gruffly. ‘I won’t follow you down. I wouldn’t want to embarrass myself by turning watering pot in front of the Fey.’

Rain was waiting when Ellysetta descended the stairs. He was once again dressed in magnificent black, red, and purple, with the chain of large gold disks and Tairen’s Eye crystals around his neck. The six-pointed crown rested on his brow, and he looked imposing and kingly.

He was scowling.

The knot in Ellie’s stomach tightened.

His gaze raked over her in one critical sweep. ‘You won’t need that necklace tonight. Bel, bring her jewels.”

Ellie lowered her eyes to hide a sudden flare of hurt and reached behind her head to undo the clasp of her necklace. What had she expected? That he would be dazzled just because she was wearing a gorgeous dress and had done her hair?

Bel approached, carrying a silk-covered box. You are lovely, Ellysetta Baristani.’

She gave him a tremulous smile.

Beside her, Rain gave a quiet grunt, as if someone had just hit him. His scowl deepened, and he flashed a dark look at Bel. Then he returned his attention to Ellie, and warm approval touched her senses, mingled with faint apology. ‘You bring pride to this Fey, Ellysetta.”

She nodded, not looking at him.

She heard him draw a breath as if he were about to speak, heard him let it back out again on a sigh. ‘Open the box, Bel,’ he said.

Bel drew back the lid of the silk-covered box, and Ellysetta caught her breath in awe. Against the rich velvet lining gleamed a stunning golden tiara set with pearls and precious jewels and three large, shimmering Tairen’s Eye crystals. Two equally stunning crystals adorned a pair of magnificent matching golden bracelets.

‘These jewels are a gift for tonight only,’ Rain said. ‘The Tairen’s Eye crystals are the sorreisu kiyr, the Soul Quest crystals, of your quintet. They requested the honor of having you wear them as we present you to Celieria as our queen.”

Ellysetta glanced around the room, meeting the shining eyes of each warrior in her quintet. ‘The honor is mine. Thank you all.”

She stood still as Rain settled the tiara in place and clasped the bracelets on her wrists. Her skin tingled where the jewels touched her flesh, as if the sorreisu kiyr hummed with warm, living energy. And Rain’s emotions seemed clearer, sharper. She could feel his coiled tension and the sparks of anger flashing through his veins.

‘Rain?’ She touched his hand.

‘We should go.”

‘Just a moment.’ Sol stepped forward. ‘I need to kiss this pretty young woman before she leaves.’ Warm, loving arms wrapped around her. The familiar scent of fresh wood shavings and pipe smoke filled her nostrils. ‘I love you, Ellie- girl,’ Sol whispered.

Fresh tears sprang to Ellie’s eyes. She blinked them back before anyone saw them and returned her father’s hug. ‘I love you, too, Papa.”

‘Enjoy yourself tonight.”

‘I will,’ she lied.

A royal carriage was waiting outside. The bewigged footman standing attendance beside the carriage door helped Ellie into the vehicle. She took her seat on the blue velvet cushions, folded her hands in her lap, and stared out the far window at the throng of people surrounding her family’s home. A strange, disturbing sense of darkness brushed her mind, and the hair at the back of her neck rose. Troubled, she scanned the crowd. Den Brodson’s face stared back at her from a distance, his eyes filled with malevolence and thwarted desire.

Black leather moved at the corner of her eye, and Ellie turned her head to watch Rain take his seat opposite her. When she glanced back out the window, Den was gone.

‘Ellysetta?’ She felt Rain’s concern even before she heard it in his voice. ‘Something frightens you?’ The carriage lurched forward and began to roll through the parting crowds.

‘No, I’m fine.’ Den was no threat to her or her family. The Fey had seen to that.

Rain’s lips tightened in a faint grimace. ‘I did not mean to hurt your feelings a moment ago. Bel tells me I am an insensitive rultshart for not telling you how lovely you look.”

‘It’s all right.”

‘Nei. It is not.’ His hands fisted, then opened with obvious effort and pressed flat against his thighs. ‘I do not wish to attend this dinner. I do not wish to take you there. Not’—he added quickly, holding up a hand to forestall any misunderstanding—’because I am unhappy to take you, but because I do not want to expose you to their darkness. Or my anger.”

‘Because of what happened yesterday?”

‘In part, I suppose. But even without the current unpleasantness, I would feel the same. The last Celierian dinner I attended ended badly, and I cannot forget the memory of it.”

Ellie suddenly understood Rain’s scowl, his inattentiveness, and the tense anger coiled inside him. The last Celierian dinner Rain Tairen Soul had attended had taken place a thousand years ago and ended in the assassination of Marikah vol Serranis and her husband King Dorian I of Celieria. That dinner provided the spark that Gaelen vel Serranis, Marikah’s twin brother, fanned into the flames that became the Mage Wars.

‘I’d forgotten you were there,’ she admitted.

‘I expect many have forgotten.”

‘I imagine it was horrible.’ Ellie heard the words leave her mouth and could have groaned. Of course, it had been horrible. It was a bloody, evil night that had led to an even bloodier and more evil war. ‘I’m sorry,’ she apologized. ‘You don’t have to talk about it.”

‘Nei, it’s all right. It was a very long time ago. The wound is no longer fresh.”

‘But it still has the power to hurt”

He smiled a little. ‘Your heart is kind, shei’tani, to worry over such an ancient wound.’ Then his smile faded. ‘Marikah died. Gaelen, her twin brother, gave himself to the Wilding Rage to avenge her and plunged us into war. Millions died. These things I cannot change, and I no longer weep for might-have-begins. It’s simply that my memories remind me of what can happen at such seemingly innocuous events”

She leaned across the carriage and reached out to take his hands in hers. She meant the gesture to be comforting, friendly. Loving, too, but in a gentle way. Perhaps it was his unsettled emotions. Perhaps it was her own unsettled emotions. Perhaps it was just the shei’tanitsa hunger rising in both of them. Whatever the reason, the moment she touched him, sudden desire roared up inside her, a gout of invisible flame leaping from her body to his.

Ellie’s field of vision narrowed until she saw nothing but his eyes, searing amethyst, piercing her senses, her consciousness, then deeper. She felt her soul stir in response. A restless disquiet, a yearning … for something more than physical, something more than emotional. Her breath rasped down her dry throat on a ragged inward moan.

He gave a low, deep-chested growl, the warning purr of a stalking tairen, and invisible hands, hot and hard, cupped her through her dress. Invisible lips, firm and silky, tracked a burning path down her neck.

Her pulse thundered in her ears. Her eyes closed on a swell of unbearable pleasure. Her head tipped back, and real hands reached out to grasp her waist and bring her hard against his chest. Real lips devoured the too sensitive skin of her neck, dragging up, teeth grazing the curve of her jaw His mouth claimed hers in a hot, demanding, erotic kiss.

In her mind’s eye, she saw the tairen. Magnificent, sleek, as black as death itself. Its eyes were burning lavender fire, its fangs white, sharp, deadly, bared in a snarl of feral wildness that had slipped its leash. It leapt towards her, massive wings unfurled, gigantic paws outstretched. So beautiful. So wild. So terrifying. White, sharp, curving claws dug into her flesh, holding her fast. The tairen screamed with hunger and dragged her close.

With a small choked cry, she tore her lips from Rain’s and pushed against his shoulders.

Rain’s empty hands curled slowly into fists that shook with visible effort as he once more caged the wildness within him. He groaned, closed his eyes, and banged the back of his head against the coach wall.

‘Sieks’ta,’ he apologized, his eyes still closed. There was a fine sheen of perspiration on his face, the first she’d ever seen, a testament to the force he was extending to keep himself in check. ‘When you reach out to me, I lose all reason. The tairen is hungry for its mate. As, gods help me, am I.”

‘It was my fault,’ she told him, shivering as she tried to recover her composure and still her racing heartbeat. ‘I started it.”

‘Aiyah, you did. Which gives me hope at least.’ He scrubbed his hands over his face. ‘But I should know by now that I must go slowly with you. Your ways are not ours, and you are still so young. I will do better the next time, Ellysetta. I do not wish to frighten you.”

‘It’s all right.’ She didn’t deny that he had frightened her. She knew he had felt it.

‘Nei.’ He gave a slight, hoarse laugh. ‘When you accept the bond, it will be all right.’ His eyes opened, pinned her with glowing intensity. ‘Until then, it is quite the opposite”

She bit her lip, feeling miserable. She could feel his pain and the sharp edge of temper he was struggling not to release. ‘I’m sorry.”

‘Do not be. I assure you, I will endure. Just be patient with my lapses, and know that I would never harm you.’ He closed his eyes again and leaned his head back. ‘And Ellysetta?”

‘Yes?”

‘Do not touch me that way again tonight. Please.’