CHAPTER NINETEEN #5
“Kieran?” Gaelen sat up straight. There wasn’t much in life that could surprise him, but the appearance of Kieran vel Solande in the heart of Boura Fell definitely did. “What are you doing here? “
“Apparently, uncle, I’m saving you from a very nasty demise, though gods know, I’m sure it won’t take me long to regret it.”
Gaelen grinned, too pleased to take offense at his nephew’s cheek.
“Well, it took you long enough,” Bel groused, holding up his hands as Kiel ran over with a key to unlock his sel’dor manacles. “I was starting to get worried.”
Gaelen turned on Bel in disbelief. “You knew they were coming? “
Bel arched a brow. “You think the High Mage is the only one who plans backups for his backups?” Rijonn laughed, slow and deep.
Bel jumped to his feet, rubbing his wrists where the sel’dor piercings had chafed. “All right, kem’jetos. First we save Rain and Ellysetta, then we kick some Elden ass.”
* * *
?This way, shei’tani.?
Shrouded in blue Primage robes and guided by the information Shan had retrieved from the umagi girl’s mind, Shan and Elfeya made their way as quickly as they dared through the dark maze of Boura Fell.
From the observation chambers, they had ascended several levels and crossed a wide common area filled with scores of Mages in green, red, and Primage blue.
Though it cost Shan a great deal to keep his steel sheathed, they navigated that lyrant nest without incident and slipped down a hallway to the more private area they were in now.
As they approached the intersection of two wide corridors, their steps slowed.
?The girl’s map says there will be guards up ahead,? Shan said. ?At least six of them.?
The plucky little umagi girl had given Shan more than a simple map of the fortress and the path to the place Vadim Maur was holding their daughter.
She’d given him all the details about all the rooms and wards and guard postings along the way, and identified spots where they would have to exercise extreme caution to avoid being caught.
?Let me check,? Elfeya replied, and with a skill unaltered by centuries of confinement, she sent her empathic senses whispering out ahead of them.
The tendrils of awareness curved around the blind corners and streamed, undetected, down the hallways, pale threads of invisible golden light, imperceptible to all but the strongest of senses.
Swiftly, she verified the location and number of the guards.
?Four to the left, two to the right,? she confirmed.
?I’ll have to take them all,? he replied grimly. ?If even one of them raises the alarm, we won’t make it.? Their path lay to the left, up a flight of stairs to a heavily guarded, private level of the fortress restricted solely to Vadim Maur and a select few Primages.
A flash of awareness made Elfeya’s senses tingle. ?Someone’s coming!? The tingle darkened to discomfort, then outright pain. Her breath seized in her throat as she recognized the feeling. ?Dahl’reisen, Shan.?
?Quickly,? he said, ?into this room.? He turned abruptly towards a door on the left and reached for the sel’dor handle.
The door was locked but unwarded. Ignoring the sear of pain, Shan sent his senses into the keyhole, examined the locking mechanism, then pulled a black Fey’cha from his harness.
A quick weave of Earth drew the Fey’cha’s tip into a shape that would release the lock.
He thrust the key-blade into the lock and turned just as Elfeya cried, ?He’s here.?
The door opened. He thrust Elfeya inside and glanced over his shoulder as he followed her inside. The corridor was empty. But Elfeya’s pain was real. Shan had long ago learned to trust his mate’s senses, even above his own. The dahl’reisen was there. Fey eyes could not see him, but he was there.
As the door swung closed, Shan’s own warrior senses flared to abrupt life, as certain and infallible as Elfeya’s empathy. He dodged left just as a red Fey’cha whirred past the spot his head had been.
The door shut. Another blade thunked deep into the sel’dor-braced wood. The first red blade, which had sunk into the far wall of the room, disappeared as the dahl’reisen spoke his return word.
?Scorch it. We must have given ourselves away.
? Shan shed his Primage robes and reached for his black Fey’cha as he scanned the room for a position of safety and attack.
There was a table in the center of the room.
Elfeya was already racing to take shelter behind it before he spun the weave to flip it on its side.
Shan went high, racing up the wall and launching across the ceiling on an Air-powered leap, just as the door opened.
His senses merged with Elfeya’s, and he used her empathy to pinpoint the enemy he could not see.
Black Fey’cha flew with unerring aim and blurring speed.
The dahl’reisen grunted. Shan dropped to the floor, as magic spun from Elfeya’s fingertips, wrapping the still-invisible dahl’reisen tight in bands of power.
Shan thrust his hands into the center of Elfeya’s net, and sparks flew where his sel’dor bands touched the dahl’reisen’s invisibility weave.
He caught a brief glimpse of a pale scarred face and a mouth opening—no doubt to shout the alarm.
His fingers closed around the dahl’reisen’s throat, squeezing tight and cutting off his cry.
“I can’t kill you, dahl’reisen rultshart,” he hissed, “but I can make you wish I would.”
“That would be a shame, kem’chatok, since he came to save you.”
Shan’s spine went straight as a board, and he spun around, Fey’cha flying from their sheaths into his hands. “Vel Serranis,” he snarled, and he let fly his blades.