Chapter Twenty #2
eyes when his passions rose. It came easily, flowing into her with a steady effortlessness that would have made her chatok proud.
She gathered the magic and spun it into a subtle, spider-silk-thin weave, imbuing each thread with a sense of urgent need
and respect and an echo of the terrible desperation, fear, and grievous loss she’d felt when Forrahl died. She didn’t know
if the Eye could still feel emotion, but she hoped the weave would convince it of her sincerity. When the pattern was complete,
and the threads as filled with power and emotion as she could make them, she cast the shining net over the crystal globe and
used it as the conduit for her Spirit voice.
?It’s me . . . Ellysetta.?
All right, that seemed a silly thing to say.
The Eye of Truth was the most powerful oracle in the world.
It already knew everything there was to know about her, including events that hadn’t happened yet.
Surely it knew who she was without her introducing herself.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and tried again.
?You told Rain I was the one who could save the tairen and the Fey. You sent him to find me and bring me back. Now I am here,
but the tairen are still dying. I don’t know how to do what you foretold I would.?
Magic energy swirled and gathered. Not her own. She refused to open her eyes, afraid of what she would see, but against the
backs of her lids Fey vision was already blooming in the darkness. She saw her web, a net of fine lavender threads, wrapped
around a sphere of radiant stars that began to whirl and brighten.
?Teska, please, tell me what to do. They are your kin, too. How can I save them?? Thinking perhaps the Eye would be more likely to give her the answer she needed if she asked more specifically, she added,
?If I free the tairen kitlings from the egg, will they be safe from the power that hunts them??
The starry lights of the sphere flashed in unison. She rocked back on her heels from the surge of energy. Within that flash
of light pulsed a single word, spoken not in a voice, not in a song, but vibrating through every cell of her body with absolute
and incontrovertible certainty:
Aiyah.
She gulped. Shei’Kess had spoken. To her. In a voice-without-sound that was as powerful and all-encompassing as Church of Light priests claimed the Bright Lord’s divine
voice to be. Good sweet Lord of Light. Her lashes fluttered, as if her eyes were trying to open against her will. She kept them squeezed shut, afraid of what she
might see in the Eye.
Corralling her wayward thoughts, she tried to concentrate.
The Eye was tairen-made. The Fey claimed that meant it could not lie, but that did not mean the Eye would always tell the whole truth either.
All she’d asked was if hatching from the egg would free the kitlings from their hunter.
She’d not asked if they would still die.
?Is there also a way to free the kitlings from the Well of Souls so they can hatch, survive, and remain healthy after only
three months in the egg?? There. That seemed specific enough.
The Eye pulsed again, and that voice-without-sound answered a second time.
Aiyah.
Her heart slammed against her ribs. She moistened her lips. ?How??
The vibrations of energy grew stronger, battering her senses. The starry lights spun so rapidly they became solid streaks
of blazing light whirling in a dazzling ball. Her breathing grew labored, coming in shallow pants as if she were running too
fast to catch her breath. ?How?? she asked again. ?Teska, tell me.?
She struggled to hold her weave, spinning more need, more urgency into the threads. ?You sent Rain to find me. If you know how I can save the tairen, please, tell me before the High Mage of Eld steals another
kitling’s soul. Tell me how to stop it.?
The voice-without-sound did not speak, but the light of the Eye took up a pulsing beat, flaring again and again, pounding
in a relentless rhythm. Her eyes began to burn. Her lashes fluttered, and the tiny muscles in her eyelids jumped and fought
to open. Was she supposed to watch? Was that what the Eye was trying to tell her—that it could only show her the answer?
Very well. ?Show me.?
Her eyes flew open.
Celieria ~ Teleon
“Hello.”
Den Brodson clamped down on a surge of savage triumph and forced a genial smile to his face as he turned to face Lillis and
Lorelle Baristani. “Why, hello. Where did you come from?”
The twins glanced at each other. “From home,” one said, while the other ignored his question and bluntly asked, “Can we pet your kittens?”
He forced a paternal laugh. “Like kittens, do you? Well, I’ve never met a little girl yet who didn’t. Of course you may pet
them. Here, they like to play with these.” He’d woven little spheres from strips of pliant wood, installing a chemar fixed with two small bells into the hollow center of each. The twins rolled the little balls towards the kittens, laughing
as they batted and chased the chiming balls. “Do you live around here? I’ve been at the outpost all week—I’m the cook with
Lord Darramon’s party—and I’m sure I would have remembered if I’d seen two such beautiful young ladies.”
“We are cousins of Lord Teleos.” They lied with such perfect innocence, Den would have believed them if he hadn’t already
known the truth.
“Ah, Great Lord Teleos. A good man.” As the girls picked up the jingle balls and began rolling them to the kittens, he reached
for the pouch of white stones at his side, calculating exactly where to toss the chemar so he could grab the girls and haul them into the Well before they had a chance to cry for help.
The metallic snick of a hundred blades froze him in place, and magic burst around him in a flash of hair-raising energy. Invisibility
weaves dissolved and he found himself surrounded by what looked like an entire Fey army. Their blades were drawn, their faces
cold stone masks, their eyes like burning death.
Den gulped. His heart rose up in his throat. Every ounce of blood rushed to his face, then drained away, leaving him trembling
and soaked with clammy sweat. With swift desperation, he muttered the spell word Master Nour had given him for just such an
occasion.
An instant later, the memories of Den Brodson were gone, locked deep away where they could not be retrieved until the spell wore off, and the man who remembered nothing beyond being Lord Darramon’s frightened cook was falling over himself to offer his apologies.
“Forgive me, sers. I meant no harm. The children came to pet the kittens. I saw no harm in allowing it.”
The girls rose to their feet, each clutching a tiny, squirming kitten and one of the woven jingle balls. One of the girls
looked stricken, the other sullen. The stricken one turned eyes big as saucers upon a brown-haired, blue-eyed Fey. “We just
wanted to pet the kittens, Kieran.”
“You promised we could have another kitten, since we had to leave Love behind,” the sullen girl added. She tilted her chin
up. “We came so we could tell you which ones we wanted.”
“You promised you would not leave the safety of Teleon. If you do not honor your word, why should I honor mine?” The blue-eyed
Fey, who appeared to be the leader of the group despite the deceptively youthful look of his face, pinned the girls with such
a hard, cold look that the stricken one burst into tears.
“The young ladies would like a kitten?” the cook asked quickly. “Please, take them. Whichever ones you like. Consider it my
gift. I’ll even throw in these little jingling balls for the kittens to play with. They do love them so.” He offered up a
handful of the little woven balls.
“There!” the bold child proclaimed. “You see? He doesn’t mind.”
The blue-eyed Fey gritted his teeth and said, “Put. The kittens. Down. And go with Kiel this instant. This instant!” he snapped
when the foolish, headstrong girl opened her mouth again.
The child glared, but set the kitten down. It began mewing and rubbing against her ankle. “You see? It wants to come with
me.”
“Please, Kieran?” the sweet child begged. “Please, please? We’ll be good forever, I promise. You won’t even have to watch
us. Please, can’t we keep them?” She cuddled the fluffy black-and-white kitten to her cheek, her big, wet eyes filled with
such longing, any man with half a heart would find it difficult to refuse her. “Please?”
The blue-eyed Fey, Kieran, exchanged a brief look with another Fey who had long blond hair.
When he turned back, Kieran fixed the cook with a piercing gaze that made the man’s brain buzz woozily.
A moment later, the cook was blinking and holding his head, and the Fey was weaving greenish magic over one of the toy balls, disassembling it and crushing the white stone inside to dust.
“What was this?” The Fey held out the white dust that remained.
The cook bit his lip. “Just a pretty stone, ser. It makes the bells ring better when the ball rolls.” He held out the pouch
of stones and poured several more into his palm. “Here, you see?” The Fey picked up one of the white rocks and examined it
closely. “Pretty as moonstone, but not half so dear. If the children play Stones, I’m happy to let them have these, too.”
“Oooh, Lillis and I love Stones.” The bold child peered over the Fey’s arm.
The Fey named Kieran snapped to attention and scowled at the child. “You have a cat and a toy for it—be grateful for that.
Now get back to Teleon. You are in serious trouble.”
The bold child snatched up her kitten and one of the jingle bells and beamed. “Thank you, Kieran! You won’t be sorry!”
He pointed. “Go.”
With a grin for her sister, she went.
When the girls were gone, the Fey nodded to his companions. Their swords slid back into their sheaths. Kieran bowed to the
cook. “Good day to you, Goodman. Thank you for your generosity. The girls will not bother you again.”