Chapter Twenty-One
Celieria ~ Teleon
“How could I not have known?” Sol Baristani paced the parlor’s stone floor. The girls had gone outside to play with their
new kittens under the watchful eye of Ravel’s quintet. “They are my children. How could I not have known?”
“They are both very adept at hiding their magic,” Kiel suggested. “Perhaps they learned to do it from observing the Feyreisa.”
Sol shook his head. He’d never felt so dazed . . . so . . . lost. As if the foundation of his world had been suddenly upturned
and he was tumbling helplessly, with no idea which way was up or down. “And Laurie—if they’re right, she had magic too.”
“I confess we are as surprised as you, Master Baristani,” Kieran said, “though perhaps we should not be. The Feyreisa is such
a marvel, it seems only natural that your family would have its own share of unexpected secrets.”
“Secrets, yes, but . . . magic . . .” He shook his head. “They’re my daughters—and not adopted, as Ellie was. They’re my own
flesh and bone. Celierian—and mortal—just like their mother and me.”
“Your wife was from the north, from an area where vast amounts of very powerful magic were released during the Mage Wars. Such a great concentration of magic would not dissipate without leaving its mark—as your wife reminded us many times. Hearth witches, hedge wizards, and many far more unpleasant mutations are common in those parts.”
“Yes, but—”
“We knew your wife had a fierce aversion to magic, but to have spent her whole life hiding her own magic . . . Did she never
mention anything about it?”
“No. Of course not. Lillis and Lorelle must be mistaken. They were only children. Who’s to say that what they remember really
happened?”
“They managed to hide their own magic all their lives,” Kiel reminded him. “And they did it without the magical barriers the
Feyreisa had holding back her powers. Disbelieve them if it eases your fears, Master Baristani, but Kieran and I cannot. Your
wife must have possessed considerable magic to have passed on so strong a gift.”
“I . . .” Sol looked from one Fey to another, his heart still struggling to reject the truth while his mind began fitting
together the clues he’d seen but never recognized all his life. They slid into place like the perfectly carved pieces of a
wooden puzzle box. “Laurie’s young sister, Bess, was winded as a child in Dolan. When she was two years old, she set the neighbors’
house on fire with magic, and her parents had no choice but to take her to the woods and abandon her. Laurie never forgave
her parents for that—nor ever forgot the terrible price of magic.”
Kieran’s expression went grim. “Lady Darramon is nearly healed. The shei’dalins will be returning to the Fading Lands tomorrow. I urge you to go with them. Your daughters’ gifts make them a treasure many
will covet—and not just the Mages.”
“Even if they could live safely here,” Kiel added gently to forestall any objections, “they should be trained in the use and
control of their gifts. As your wife’s young sister proved, wild magic can be a danger. Your daughters are already both very
strong, and if their magic rises the same way it does in the Fey, they have yet to come into their full power.”
Sol had denied the truth about Ellie for so long, not wanting to see it. Not wanting to accept it. He could not continue to blind himself about Lillis and Lorelle.
Nor would he continue to risk their safety—not even to honor the last wishes of his dead wife.
“Kabei,” Kieran said when Sol nodded in defeated acquiescence. “You and the girls should pack what essentials you wish to take with
you. We’ll leave as soon as the shei’dalins finish tomorrow. The Fey will bring the rest of your belongings later.” He paused, then reached out to lay a hand on Sol’s
arm. “You are making the right decision, Master Baristani.”
Sol met his gaze. “I pray to the gods you’re right.”
The Fading Lands ~ Plains of Corunn
Belliard vel Jelani ran faster than he ever had. He all but flew across the rolling, grass-covered landscape. Footfalls were
but brief instants of impact launching him in long airborne leaps. Air powered his steps, and the Fey skin that never broke
a sweat was beaded with perspiration.
Ellysetta was heading for Fey’Bahren with Gaelen, learning to weave Azrahn. He’d reached her on a private weave, and though
she didn’t want to admit it at first, she’d eventually confessed the truth. She’d confronted the Eye, and it had told her
that only Azrahn could save the kitlings. And Gaelen—that infuriating, rock-headed, rules-defying rultshart!—had agreed to teach her how to spin it!
?Are you mad?? he’d railed at her. ?Do you know what will happen if you’re caught? You’ll be banished! Rain will have to leave the Fading Lands with you or die
from bond madness! Ellysetta, you cannot do this. Nei! It’s insanity!?
She’d cut off his weaves and refused to answer him since. Gaelen had too.
Bel contemplated calling Rain. He wanted to. As the First General of the Fading Lands, he was duty-bound to do so. But Bel was also Ellysetta’s lu’tan, and no matter how loyal he was to Rain, his bloodsworn bond came before all others.
And, frankly, Bel was terrified of what Rain would do if he learned Gaelen was teaching Ellysetta to weave the forbidden magic.
Blood would be spilled. Gaelen’s, most likely, and lots of it. Rain might even kill him, which would cast Rain down the Shadowed
Path, and then where would that leave Ellysetta and the Fey?
Nei, Bel couldn’t tell Rain. What he would do, however, was go to Fey’Bahren himself and put a stop to their insanity. Once he’d beaten Gaelen senseless and curbed
Ellysetta’s foolishness, then Bel would call Rain to come chastise his truemate and impress upon her the insupportable madness of what she’d been trying
to do.
The Fading Lands ~ in the Forests Northeast of Dharsa
“Vel Jelani is heading for Fey’Bahren, but he’s running too fast for our warriors to keep up. I’ve told our force to fall
back.”
Sitting on the stump of a fallen tree while he and his companions took a brief respite from their run, Tenn stared at the
signet ring he’d worn as leader of the Massan for the last thousand years. A mortal might have felt satisfaction to learn
that his enemy was finally making the mistake he’d been waiting for, but Tenn felt only a growing sense of doom that had begun
the moment Tael, shaking and pale and clearly distraught, had come to see him.
There was no way what was coming could end well.
Not for anyone.
“Am I doing the right thing?”
Leather swished softly. Venarra came up behind him and bent over him. “You saw the vision in the Eye. You know what is at
stake.”
Aiyah, he had, though now he wished he hadn’t looked. “I know . . . I know, but—”
“You did not initiate this weave, shei’tan. Do not blame yourself for its consequences. I warned her what would happen if she chose the wrong path.”
Tenn frowned. He couldn’t shake the sense of wrongness . . . a roiling sickness in the pit of his belly. “I keep thinking
there must be another way. Vel Serranis I could never trust . . . but Belliard’s honor has always been above reproach.” He
stood and pulled Venarra into his arms, hoping her touch would bring him a measure of peace. “I still cannot believe he would
condone such evil.”
“Perhaps he has not,” she soothed. “Perhaps he hopes to stop them.”
Tenn rested his chin on Venarra’s head. He hoped Bel was trying to stop them—and some part of him also hoped Bel succeeded. “Do you think there’s any possibility she and the Eye
could be right about Azrahn being the only way to save the tairen?”
Venarra tilted her head back. “Shei’tan.” She cupped his face in her hands. “It doesn’t matter. Azrahn is the forbidden magic, tool of the Corrupter. It must never
be woven, no matter the purpose. But even if that were not true,” she added, “you heard what vel Serranis said. The High Mage
can claim more of her soul each time she weaves Azrahn. We cannot afford to let that happen.”
Tenn nodded and stared bleakly into the heavily wooded forest. Fifty Fey loyal to the Massan were following Belliard to Fey’Bahren.
When they got there, they would bind vel Serranis, Belliard, and the Feyreisa until the Massan and the Shei’dalin arrived to Truthspeak them. If Ellysetta had indeed woven the forbidden magic, they would banish her from the Fading Lands.
What choice did they have? They’d all seen the same dread vision in Shei’Kess the day after Ellysetta’s arrival in Dharsa,
seen how the High Mage and the Dark God he served would use her to wipe Light from the world. So long as Ellysetta Baristani
remained in the Fading Lands, she was a danger to the Fey. She’d already built a private army of bloodsworn lu’tans, had convinced even honorable Fey to accept the tutelage of the world’s most infamous dahl’reisen, and now she was planning to weave the forbidden magic.
All of her actions seemed perfectly reasonable, perfectly well-intentioned, yet bit by bit, she was chipping away at the foundations
of honor and sacrifice that had made the Fading Lands strong and kept the Fey holding fast to the Light. Bit by bit, she was
corrupting the very people she was supposed to save—even Tael, who’d been heartbroken by his discovery.
She must be stopped. Now, before she brought the Fading Lands to ruin.
He stood up and gestured to Yulan and Nurian. Eimar was not with them. He’d become too enamored of Gaelen vel Serranis and
the Feyreisa to be trusted. “We’ve rested long enough. If we hope to reach Fey’Bahren by morning, we need to keep going.”
The Fading Lands ~ Fey’Bahren
Gaelen walked the perimeter of the Su Reisu plateau and spun a shimmering dome of five-fold magic around himself and Ellysetta.
“Why do you need those weaves if you’re going to teach me using only Spirit?” Ellysetta asked.
“The silence will help you to stay focused.” He tied off the last threads of his weave. “Besides, if at any time I sense you