Chapter Two
In sorrow, the blood-sown earth despairs,
and granite stone weeps bitter tears.
In fields once green, love lies entombed
beneath a silent lake of glass
forged in raging tairen flames,
dark with the death of dreams.
There, shades of men and once-great kings
yet battle evil’s tide.
While silvery maidens softly dance and
sing of love that died.
Sariel’s Lament by Avian of Celieria
Ellysetta stood on the balcony of a well-appointed bedchamber in one of Teleon’s spacious upper towers and looked up at the
Mists. Several bells earlier, the lowering sun set the Mists ablaze, giving the illusion of a curtain of fire burning across
the world. Now the night was deep and the Mists were a shifting, shimmering glow of multicolored radiance against the dark
of a near-moonless sky.
The clap of boot heels on stone made her cast a glance over her shoulder.
Still clothed in black leather and full steel, his Fey skin as pale and luminous as pearls in moonlight, Rain approached.
He’d been meeting with Teleos, Bel, Kieran, and Kiel to discuss the defense of Teleon and review troop strength and dispersal in the rest of Teleos’s holdings.
War was coming. No matter how some still tiptoed around the truth, all of them knew it. They only prayed there would be time
enough to prepare before Celieria’s borders erupted into open battle.
And though it seemed a terrible thing to ask, Ellysetta had secretly prayed that when the attack came, the Eld’s first strike
would come in some far-distant part of Celieria, like Orest or Celieria City, so the Fey would have enough time to evacuate
Lillis, Lorelle, and Papa to safety behind the Faering Mists.
That secret prayer seemed ill-considered now. The hearth witches of the north—and there had been plenty of them living in
her childhood town of Hartslea, despite the strong Church presence there—believed that wishing harm upon others would bring
three times that harm to the wisher. Was hoping the first battle of a war started somewhere else the same as wishing harm
upon another? Ellysetta shivered at the prospect.
“Cold?” Rain asked. His eyes narrowed. “Or have your wandering souls returned?”
Ellysetta often experienced inexplicable sudden chills, like ice spiders crawling up her spine. The chills—or “wandering souls”
as Rain called them—were insignificant compared to the hideous nightmares and frightening seizures that had afflicted her
all her life, and she’d always brushed them off as yet another oddity about her. Rain didn’t consider the strange onset of
chills as harmless as she always did.
“Nothing like that,” she assured him. “Just a worrisome thought of war.”
His arms tightened. “Your family will be safe. The Fey will see to it.”
“I know.” And she did. Kieran and Kiel would die to defend her family. All the Fey staying at Teleon would.
Rain rubbed a thumb across her lower lip, then bent his head to follow the small caress with a kiss. “There is a thing I need to do tonight before returning to the Fading Lands. I had hoped you would come with me, but perhaps you should stay here, instead, and try to get some sleep.”
“No, I’m fine.” She reached for his hand. “You know I can’t sleep without you beside me.” He was her talisman against the
call of the High Mage of Eld, and she feared to fall asleep without him lying there beside her, his arms wrapped about her,
protecting her from the very real terrors of the night.
“Then let’s go—and bring your cloak.”
Ten chimes later, they were soaring through the night skies high over Teleon. Ellysetta stretched out her arms and turned
her face up to the stars. Rain spun a light Fire weave to keep her warm as the chill, thin air swept past.
?Hold on.? The brief command was her only warning before Rain twitched back his rounded tairen ears, spouted a warming jet of flame
that lit the night, then tucked in his mighty wings and dove.
Ellysetta screamed with laughter and grabbed for the high, curving pommel of her saddle just as the unsettling thrill of weightlessness
came over her. Together, she and Rain fell through the sky, plummeting freely towards the ground miles below. The moonlit
sky went silvery white, and fine droplets of water misted Ellysetta’s face as they plunged into a cloud bank. She caught the
tangy-fresh chill of cloud mist on her tongue, drinking its bracing sweetness.
One heartbeat; two; then they burst through the clouds back into the crisp, clear darkness of the night.
Tairen wings spread wide, snapped taut, and the wild, reckless plunge became a swooping ascent. Ellysetta screamed again,
a breathless, exuberant sound, and clutched the saddle tight. ?Rain! I think I left my stomach back there.?
The now-familiar, chuffing sound of tairen laughter joined the rush of the wind in her ears. ?Hold on again, shei’tani. This is even better.?
Flows of magic spun out to bind her securely into place, and Rain shot forward on a thrust of magic-powered speed. The world
rushed by in a dizzying blur, and with a subtle shift of his wings, he sent them spiraling into a corkscrew roll. Shadowy
earth and moonlit sky whirled in a wild kaleidoscope before Ellysetta’s dazzled eyes.
Another woman might have shrieked in fear and begged him to stop. Ellysetta only flung back her head and laughed in delight.
Freedom coursed through her veins like a potent drug.
She would never tire of flying. The limitless joy of dancing, laughter-spangled winds, the thrill of diving through misty
clouds and soaring so high she could almost scoop stardust with her fingertips: Flying was a joy so rich, it chased back all
sorrows and fears. Well, she amended silently, almost all.
?Rain, do you honestly think when we get to Fey’Bahren, I can just walk in and spin a weave that will cure the kitlings of
whatever is killing them?? That was the reason Rain had come to Celieria to find her. Unbeknownst to the outside world, a mysterious sickness had been
killing unborn tairen in the egg for centuries, decimating their numbers until scarcely more than a dozen of the great cats
still lived. The Eye of Truth had sent Rain to Celieria to find the key to saving them.
She, Ellysetta Baristani, was that key. Even if none of them actually knew how she was going to manage the miracle.
?I know it doesn’t sound like much of a plan,? he said, ?but the tairen have never let any of our healers into the lair—not even Marissya. You, however, are both a Tairen Soul and
my truemate. You’ll be able to enter the lair and weave healing on the kits as no other shei’dalin has been able to.?
?This assumes I’ll even know what weave to spin when I get there—let alone how to spin it.?
?That’s why Marissya will be going with us to Fey’Bahren—so she can continue your training and counsel you while you’re healing the tairen. But you may not even need her help. I heard you healed Ravel’s new Fire master well enough this afternoon while I took your sisters flying.?
She gave a short laugh. ?Oh, yes, I healed him all right. I made that wound vanish as if it had never been.?
?There, you see—?
?And I erased every hint of weariness from the last week of travel,? she informed him. ?And wiped clean every shadow on his soul. And filled him with such an abundance of energy that he shone like a newly minted
coin and spent the rest of the day racing circles around my quintets until Bel and Ravel both threatened to pull red on him
if he twitched another muscle.?
There was a brief silence; then Rain said in an oddly choked voice, ?Well, shei’tani, there are worse tribulations in life than healing a Fey too well.? Chuffing tairen laughter vibrated in his throat.
Her eyes narrowed. He found that amusing, did he? ?And when he wasn’t annoying his brother Fey, he was following me around like a lovesick puppy.?
The chuffing laughter changed instantly to a low, rumbling growl. Licks of flame seared the air before Rain’s muzzle. ?Oh, was he?? The fur on the back of his neck rose up, and his rounded ears lay back. Tairen were territorial creatures, and they definitely
did not appreciate encroaching males trespassing too near their mates.
?Ha! You see? It’s not so funny anymore, is it?? She ran a frustrated hand through the wind-tangled spirals of her hair. ?I’m like a rultshart in a spider-silk shop. If Marissya asks me to summon a puff of Air, I call a gale so strong it knocks
her off her feet. If she asks me to summon Water, I nearly flood the encampment.?
?Your power is vast,? Rain soothed, ?and no longer restrained by the weaves set upon you in childhood. You simply need time and practice to learn how to wield
it in moderation.?
She sighed. ?Even assuming I can learn to control my power enough to spin the right weaves, what if healing doesn’t stop whatever’s killing the kits??
His right wing dipped, and he banked, wheeling back around towards the south. ?Then we go to Dharsa and start from the beginning. Perhaps you can help us discover something we have overlooked all these
years.?
?Rain, be realistic.?
?I am. I asked for the key to saving the tairen and the Fey, and the Eye sent me to you. To me, it seems quite clear that
whatever is killing the kitlings, you are integral to making it stop. I do not doubt this, even though you do.?
Rain’s wings spread wide, and he sank through the sky in a circling glide, alighting on a stretch of empty field. A cradling
ribbon of Air magic deposited Ellysetta on her feet while the Change swirled around Rain’s tairen form in a sparkling mist.
His hands rose, long fingers threading into the wild spirals of her flame-red hair, the pad of his thumb brushing across her
lips and leaving tingles of awareness behind. “We’re here, shei’tani.”
Ellysetta glanced at their surroundings. Nothing looked familiar.
“Where is ‘here’?”
His eyes went dark. “This is Eadmond’s Field.”
The Lake of Glass stretched out for miles, its dark, glossy surface glittering beneath the dim light of the moons overhead.