by C. L. Wilson
Rain quickly stifled his brief, instinctive surge of aggression and greeted the Massan. “Meivelei, Fey.” Putting a hand in the small of Ellysetta’s back, he ushered her forward. “With pride this Fey presents to you his shei’tani, Ellysetta of Celieria. Ellysetta, these are the honored Fey lords of the Massan, the council that governs the Fading Lands.”
Rain clasped the forearm of the first Massan, a silvery blond Water master with eyes the same deep blue-violet as the waters off the black cliffs of the Bay of Flames. “This fine Fey is Loris v’En Mahr—Water master of the Massan—and his shei’tani, Nalia.”
Rain smiled when genuine welcome filled Loris’s eyes, then laughed when golden-haired Nalia took Ellysetta’s hand and dragged her into a warm embrace as if they were sisters, long separated. Nalia had that sort of way about her. Loris might be the Water, full of secret depths and unseen currents, but Nalia was both the wind that drove him and the rock that stood firm against even his most furious waves. What Nalia wanted, Nalia got. Thank the gods what she wanted was usually best for all.
“Meivelei, little sister,” Nalia greeted. “Welcome. Long have we truemates of the Massan prayed the gods would bring our king peace. And now you have come.” Nalia pulled back to give Ellysetta a searching look. “Word of your miraculous weaves reached us days ago, as did rumors of your brightness, and I can see now none of it was exaggeration.” A dazzling smile beamed across Nalia’s face, and she clasped Ellysetta tight again.
After a brief hesitation and a slightly dazed glance at Rain, Ellysetta returned the hug.
“Let her breathe, kem’alia,” Loris chided, touching his mate’s arm. “She is used to shei’dalin restraint, not your exuberance.”
Nalia laughed, unoffended, and pulled back. “Sieks’ta, Feyreisa. I forget myself. Long ago, when I was a child, my mother would shake her head and sigh in fear of what havoc I would wreak on the world. She always thanked the gods for sending me Loris. He smoothed the worst of my rough edges.”
“She should have been named Nimshorra, the whirlwind, instead of Nimalia, the windflower,” Loris said with a fond look for his mate.
Rain touched Ellysetta’s elbow lightly and directed her attention to the next matepair. “And this is Nurian v’En Soma, Spirit master, and his shei’tani, Sianna. Nurian is a very old friend and bond kinsman. Sariel was the daughter of his cousin.”
“Las te miora a vo, Feyreisa,” Lord Nurian murmured.
“Peace and joy upon you.” The Spirit master and his mate were as dark as Loris and Nalia were fair. Lord Nurian bowed, the folds of his robes swirling gracefully about him, while his shei’tani, Sianna, smiled warmly enough but kept her hands clasped firmly at her waist. She was not half so effervescent as Nalia.
“Beylah vo,” Ellysetta murmured. “I’m honored to meet you both.”
Rain introduced the next couple. “Ellysetta, may it please you, this is Air master Eimar v’En Arran and his truemate, Jisera.”
Eimar’s sun-bright locks were threaded with tiny crystal bells that sang with every shift of his head, but his eyes were clear and cold as a winter sky. Rain wasn’t completely certain what welcome Ellysetta would receive from him, until Eimar’s tiny, dark shei’tani offered a shy smile and told Ellysetta, “My brother, Lothan, is among those whose souls you restored. His return brings my heart much joy.”
At that, Eimar bowed his head, crystal bells tinkling, and said, “Meivelei, Feyreisa, te sallan’meilissis a vo.”
Earth master Yulan v’En Belos and his shei’tani, Mahri, greeted Ellysetta with a noncommittal reserve similar to that of Nurian and his mate. Last, they came to the Fire master Tenn v’En Eilan, a Fey with whom Rain had butted heads on numerous occasions.
“Tenn is the leader of the Massan,” he told her. “His brother Johr was the Feyreisen when I found my wings. Tenn’s shei’tani, Venarra, is the keeper of the Hall of Scrolls.” Tenn, who was constantly comparing Rain to his dead Feyreisen brother, was the source of much of Rain’s tension with the Massan. And Rain knew he hadn’t managed to hide that tension when Ellysetta’s fingers flinched on his wrist.
“Lord v’En Eilan.” Ellysetta inclined her head and fought to remain open-minded towards the leader of the Massan, but it was difficult when Rain’s emotions were flaring against her fingertips despite his efforts to keep them caged.
The Fire master’s robes shimmered like flames leaping in a hearth. His hair, brown and cropped to shoulder-length, held glints of gold and red, and his eyes were dark cinnamon shot with sparks of gold. His fire-kissed gaze made her belly clench tight, but she couldn’t tell how much of that instinctive reaction was her own and how much was a reflection of the emotions emanating from Rain.
She turned her gaze quickly to Tenn’s truemate, a black-haired, black-eyed beauty who seemed only slightly more welcoming. “Lady v’En Eilan.”
“I understand you have quite an interest in Fey legends and poetry, Feyreisa,” Venarra said. The shei’dalin’s dark eyes pierced Ellysetta. A foreign consciousness brushed across Ellysetta’s senses, probing lightly. Ellysetta narrowed her eyes and slammed her mental shields shut so hard and fast the shei’dalin flinched.
“I do indeed.” Ellysetta held the other woman’s gaze steadily. Rain shifted so close his arm rubbed against hers.
“I’ve devoured everything I could find about the Fey since I was a child. Little did I realize I was learning about my own heritage.”
Venarra inclined her head. “Rain has suggested I show you the Hall of Scrolls. It will be my honor to do so tomorrow, after the tairen sing to the Eye.”
With their introductions to the Feyreisa over, the Massan turned to greet Bel, Tajik, and the rest of Ellysetta’s bloodsworn quintet. Ellysetta watched them closely, waiting to see how they would welcome Gaelen. She didn’t realize how tightly her nerves were wound until the brush of Rain’s hand over hers nearly made her jump out of her skin.
«Las, shei’tani,» he whispered on a private weave. «You look fierce as a mother tairen guarding her kits. Gaelen does not need your protection.»
Only then did she realize her fingers were knotted in fists and her jaw was clenched so tightly her back teeth ached. For herself, she accepted the suspicion of the Massan, but not for Gaelen. «He has suffered enough. Can they not just welcome him?»
«He knew he would find more suspicion than welcome when he returned to the Fading Lands. This is the path he chose to walk.»
All five of the Massan wore expressions of impenetrable stone, and their truemates had begun to glow with gathering power. Even smiling, friendly Nalia looked formidable.
Marissya stepped between her brother and the Massan. “You need not Truthspeak Gaelen. I did so the day the Feyreisa restored his soul, and the Mists let him pass without challenge.”
Ellysetta could feel her own magic rising. The memory of what had happened to her in the Mists was still painfully fresh in her mind. If these shei’dalins dared attempt to Truthspeak Gaelen against his will…well, Marissya wouldn’t be the only one stepping to Gaelen’s defense.
Rain moved forward, open palms lifted in a gesture of peace. “Marissya is right. There will be no Truthspeaking here tonight. Ellysetta Feyreisa has come to Dharsa. Marissya Shei’dalin bears Tairen Soul young.” The faint glitter in the lavender gaze that swept across the faces of the Massan turned his next calm, smiling words to warning. “If there must be Challenge, let it come tomorrow. Tonight is a night for joy.”
After a brief silence, Tenn bowed his head. “Of course, Feyreisen.” He held out a wrist to his shei’tani and gestured for Rain and Ellysetta to lead the way.
The celebration that ensued throughout Dharsa lasted long into the night. The entire city lit up after sunset as Fire spells turned Dharsa’s fountains and waterfalls into cascading rainbows of light, and garden paths shimmered with dancing fairy flies. Intoxicating fragrance filled the air, turning each breath into a perfumed delight. And everywhere, Fey voices rose in joy as the Shining F
olk danced and sang.
In the palace, the Massan and their mates joined Marissya, Dax, Rain, and Ellysetta at the head table for a grand feast extravagant even by Fey measure. When the meal was over, Ellysetta’s lu’tans took the floor, daggers in hand, to perform the fierce warriors’ blade dance called the Cha Baruk, the Dance of Knives. Thousands of razor-sharp Fey’cha flew from shining hands, flashing like arcs of silver lightning across the circles of dancing, weaving warriors until, with a final fierce shout, the Fey’cha flashed back to their sheaths, and the warriors’ struck a final, triumphant pose. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause. As the lu’tans made their way back to their seats, a gentler music began to play. Rain held out his wrist to Ellysetta and they made their way to the dance floor to lead hundreds of mates in the beautiful, courtly steps of the Felah Baruk, the Dance of Life, better known to the mortal world as the Fey Dance of Joy.
And all through the night, until the celebrations finally came to an end at the break of dawn, a never-ending stream of Fey approached Ellysetta, not just to ask for her blessing but also to offer their thanks for the return of the sons, brothers, and beloved warriors so nearly lost to shadow.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The Fading Lands ~ Dharsa
Ellysetta and Rain were awakened at midmorning by a large white paw poking through the open arches of their bedroom suite. The paw batted at the edges of their bed, nearly dumping them both to the floor. «Steli is knocking, Ellysetta-kitling. Come. Come. Time to sing pride greetings to Shei’Kess.»
Rain swore and threw a pillow at the great cat, but Ellysetta only laughed. “Thank you for knocking, Steli-chakai.”
The paw withdrew, and mischeivous, chuffing tairen laughter wafted in. Air whooshed, and a dull thud rattled the chandelier as the tairen jumped up onto the palace roof. Moments later, a trio of loud roars broke the sleeping city’s silence.
Rain swore again and put a hand to his head. “She thinks she’s being funny.”
Ellysetta snickered. “She is being funny. If you hadn’t drunk so much pinalle last night, you’d think so too.” Much to Ellie’s mortification, Marissya and Dax had let slip the truth of the dreadful keflee-and-pinalle-induced Spirit weave she’d spun on Celieria’s royal court, and some wicked Fey (Ellie’s coin was on Gaelen) had promptly produced numerous cases of the blue Celierian wine. Though Ellysetta had adamantly refused to imbibe, Rain had drunk countless toasts to the health and fertility of his mated friends and was now paying the price. He deserved his pounding head for trying to get her drunk and lusty, but when he groaned again she took pity on him and spun a small healing weave.
By the time they finished dressing and made their way to the tairen courtyard, a small crowd had gathered, including Marissya, Dax, and Ellysetta’s new quintet. Rain was less pleased to see the Massan among them as well.
Steli wasn’t pleased either. The white tairen leapt down from the golden roof into the grassy courtyard, forcing the Massan and other Fey to step back. She bared her fangs and growled in tairen song: «Pride-song is for pride only, Rainier-Eras. These Fey-kin are not welcome.»
“The tairen say you must wait here,” Rain told the other Fey.
As Rain, Ellysetta, and Steli passed through the archway that led to the enormous, carved doors of the Hall of Tairen, Marissya turned to her truemate. Her eyes were filled with wonder. “I heard them, Dax. I heard their tairen song. Or rather, our child did, and I through him.” She clutched Dax’s arm, her fingers digging deep. “Dax, beloved, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. As if the stars themselves were singing.”
Fahreeta, who had started to follow Steli, now stopped and turned back to pad towards Marissya and Dax. «The kitling’s song is strong. He is powerful tairen. Grows well to hear our song so soon.» The golden cat lowered her head to nudge Marissya’s belly gently with her nose. «Pride-greetings, kitling. Sing Fahreeta your pride-name.»
The response was a gathering of power, a strange, electric feeling deep in Marissya’s womb that tingled and pushed against her from the inside out. Tiny, frenetic little flutters danced across her belly like fairy-flies playing in the evening grass. And then…small as a sigh, but very distinct, the bright notes of the baby’s song formed a single shining word: «Keralas.»
Marissya clutched Dax’s hand to her belly. “His name is Keralas, shei’tan. Our child’s tairen name is Keralas.”
«A good name. Very strong. The tairen Keralas who lived before was mighty hunter. Fierce defender of his pride.» Fahreeta’s whirling eyes bathed Marissya in a warm green glow. «You give the kitling a Fey-kin name, little mother, and by that name he will be known. Only to the pride will he be Keralas.»
“I understand,” she agreed solemnly. “His father and I will choose for him a Fey name of strength and valor, a name that will do his pride-name honor.”
Fahreeta purred her approval. «You understand pride-law well for one without wings.»
Marissya smiled. “I come from the vel Serranis line. My family bred many Feyreisen in the generations that came before mine.”
The golden cat nodded sagely. «Explains much. Prey scent not so strong on you.»
Steli glanced back. «You may come, mother-kin. Keralas-kitling should hear our song to the Eye.» Marissya accepted the invitation with alacrity, but when Dax offered her his wrist and they both began to follow, Steli growled low in her throat.
«The Fey-kin may not come. Pride-song is for pride ears only. The mother-kin may come, but no others.»
Marissya stopped and shook her head. “I will not go without Dax. He is my pride—and our child’s as well. He is my shei’tan. If you want our child to hear your song, both Dax and I must come.”
Fahreeta chuffed. Steli considered silently, then growled assent. «The mother-kin’s mate may come, but he may never speak of what he sees or hears. What songs we sing to the Eye are for pride only.»
The Hall of Tairen was easily the most spectacular palace chamber she’d seen yet. Ellysetta gazed around in goggle-eyed amazement. Within the massive room, a domed ceiling soared above the wide hall, flanked on both sides by intricately carved marble columns. On a raised dais at the end of the hall, the golden Tairen Throne rose in gleaming splendor, its back a pair of fully extended wings gleaming with platinum, scimitar-shaped midspan claws. The armrests were snarling tairen’s heads with bright, rainbow-swirled Tairen’s Eye crystals for eyes.
But it was the object in the center of the room that captured Ellysetta’s attention and held it.
Shei’Kess. The Eye of Truth.
Perfectly spherical, the Eye was an enormous globe of Tairen’s Eye crystal—even larger than the still-smoldering crystals left after Cahlah and Merdrahl’s Fire Song. A man-high stand fashioned from three golden tairen held the Eye aloft on the backs of their outstretched wings.
This was the oracle that could see the past, the present, and the future. The oracle that had sent Rain to find her.
The oracle that had hurt him when he’d asked it for help.
She knew Rain and the tairen were hoping the Eye would reveal how Ellysetta was supposed to save the kitlings, but she didn’t trust the thing. If it was so willing to help, why wouldn’t it have done so before? And what sort of power hurt those who came to it for aid? Not an honorable one, it seemed to her.
Besides—and here her belly curled into tight, painful knots—if the Eye could see into the past and the future, what would it see about her? She hadn’t forgotten what those voices in the Faering Mists had said to her. Mage claimed! Dark soul! ENEMY!
“Ellysetta?”
She bit her lip and glanced up into Rain’s too-understanding eyes. “I’m afraid, Rain,” she whispered.
“Afraid of what it might show…about the future…and about me.” Another voice from another nightmare hissed in her mind. You’ll kill them, girl. You’ll kill them all. It’s what you were born for.
“Las.” Rain brushed his lips across hers. “Fear is for the hunted,
not for the hunter. Trust that I will protect you. And trust in your own strength. You are a tairen of the Fey’Bahren pride. The Mage cannot take what you refuse to give him. And even if the Eye does show something unpleasant, remember that visions of the future are only possibilities, not destiny. Only the past is certain. All else can yet be changed.” He held her gaze until she lifted her chin and nodded.
The tairen had approached the Eye without any of Ellysetta’s hesitation or trepidation and were sitting in a loose circle around it, each facing one of the three gleaming tairen statues holding Shei’Kess aloft. The cats dwarfed both the Eye and the tairen statues.
«Join us, tairen-kin,» Steli invited. «Six sing pride-song better than three.»
“But I don’t sing tairen song,” Marissya said.
«Keralas will sing.»
“What about me?” Ellysetta asked.
Steli purred, her tail swishing. «Sing whatever song rises in your throat, kitling. You are tairen-kin. The Eye will hear you.»
Rain Changed and the three of them went to stand between the tairen. Steli began to croon, her voice a growling vibrato purr that reverberated through the room. Fahreeta and Torasul joined in, as did Rain, who stood between Steli and Torasul. Their eyes began to glow and whirl. The notes of their song were bright and full, swirling in the air around them and shimmering like sparkling multicolored jewels. Flanked by Fahreeta and Torasul, Marissya closed her eyes and swayed as the vibrant tones of tairen song swept over and through her.
At first, Ellysetta remained silent as the tairen sang. She did not know the pride-song, but each note was like a powerful bell pealing deep inside her. The pattern of the sounds resonated in her heart, her soul, setting off tiny avalanches of emotion. Longing. Joy. Belonging. Pride. As the notes swirled around and through her, she could almost feel the brisk rush of wet air against her face as she soared through the clouds, the rhythmic pull of powerful muscles as her wings bore her aloft on a swirling updraft of warm air, the burn of fire on her tongue, the visceral thrill of being tairen, master of the sky, fearless and free.