Chapter Four #2
He sat up straight, flinging long swaths of midnight hair over his shoulder.
“You are right. You are not their equal. You are my shei’tani.
My truemate. And I am the Tairen Soul. By the customs of Celieria, the only man in that room last night who was my social equal was Dorian.
The only person who was my true equal was you. ”
“How can you say that? I’m a nobody. I’m just a plain, simple woodcarver’s daughter.”
Rain laughed wryly. “Ajiana, you are far, far from simple.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do. And you are wrong.” He leaned over her and brushed a lock of hair from her face. “Ellysetta, the shei’tanitsa bond does not form between uneven halves. It only forms where there are two evenly matched parts of the same whole.”
She sat up, drawing her legs in and wrapping her arms around them. “Well, that just proves my point. We’re as far from being evenly matched as . . . as”—she searched for a suitably ridiculous comparison—“a tairen and Love the kitten!”
Rain’s lips curved in a faint smile. His lavender eyes, which could at times seem so cold, glowed with warmth.
His fingers brushed the smooth skin of her cheek in a soft caress.
“You’ve only just begun to discover your many gifts.
Would you berate a child for failing to read when first you set a book before her?
Or for failing to walk when first you set her on her feet? ”
“I’m not a child.”
“In this you are. No one travels a new path without making an occasional misstep.”
“A misstep? Missteps are little things. Like sewing a poor seam or burning dinner. Last night was a catastrophe. And then I compounded it by what I did to Adrial.”
Rain’s eyes grew shadowed and his smile faded. The hand by her cheek dropped away. “Ellysetta, I once scorched the world. Millions died by my hand—including thousands who were my friends and allies. That was a catastrophe. What happened last night was merely an embarrassment.”
She felt the swell of horror and self-revulsion within him, and for just a moment she heard the echoes of the screams that haunted him before he clamped his barriers tight.
Every day of his life, he suffered unimaginable guilt for what he’d done in a few irreversible bells of madness.
And she had unwittingly compared one humiliating evening to that.
Tears burned in her eyes. Why did everything she said and did lately seem to come out wrong?
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” She stared at her tightly clasped hands as they grew blurry and wavered.
She could not bear to disappoint him or diminish herself in his eyes, yet at every turn she seemed to do exactly that.
“You must think I’m a complete idiot.” Her throat closed up, making her voice crack.
“Nei, shei’tani. I could never think that.”
His voice was so soft, tender, and full of regret.
The barriers she’d maintained all day to keep her emotions in check came crashing down.
Tears poured from her eyes in a graceless flood.
She covered her face and sobbed helplessly.
Rain uttered a small, protesting sound and drew her into his arms, but that only made her tears fall faster.
“Las, shei’tani. Nei avi. Don’t cry. Ve khoda kem’san.” Rain rocked Ellysetta gently and stroked the wild tangle of her hair. Her feelings of inadequacy and despair stabbed him like a thousand digger-thorns, the kind that burrowed deep in a man’s flesh and released a painful, toxic venom.
Guilt assailed him. From the moment he’d claimed her, he had torn Ellysetta from the familiar comfort of her previous life, and thrust her—with far too little preparation—into the dangerous, unfriendly currents of his. Worse, he hadn’t even told her why.
She’d done her best to hide her fears. She’d put on a brave face while she let strangers mold her into whatever queenly form they thought appropriate. As if she were not already queen enough to outshine them all.
He bent his head, resting his forehead against hers, and closed his eyes. All at once he knew Marissya was right. There could be no love or trust between Ellysetta and him until first there was truth.
He waited for her tears to stop, then from somewhere dredged up his own courage. “There is something I must tell you.” He turned his head to kiss her palm, then rose to his feet, putting distance between them.
She rose too and started to follow him, then stopped when he turned to face her. He knew his expression had turned to stone. He could not say what he had to say without hiding behind the mask of Fey stoicism, but her uncertainty, the hesitation that dimmed her brightness, made his control falter.
“Ellysetta . . .”
She swallowed, holding his gaze even though he could see that her hands shook and her pulse beat rapidly beneath the delicate skin of her throat. “What is it, Rain?”
“Do you remember when I told you that the Eye of Truth sent me to find you?”
“Because I am your truemate.”
Rain nodded. “Aiyah, I’m certain that was part of it, but in truth our matebond was an unexpected boon. I had consulted the Eye on another matter, and asked it to show me the solution to my problem. It showed me Celieria . . . and you.”
Ellie took a half step backwards before stopping herself. “What problem did the Eye say I would solve, Rain?” There it was again, that quiet courage. She wanted to flee. He could feel the urge fluttering within her like a trapped bird. Yet she stood where she was.
There was no easy way to tell her, no segue to lessen the blow.
So he gave her the truth bluntly. “That dream you told me about this morning—the one where you were standing in Fey’Bahren watching kitlings dying in the egg and you heard me vow to Sybharukai that I would find a way to save them—that was no dream.
The tairen are dying, Ellysetta, and if we cannot find a way to stop it, the Fey will die with them.
I asked the Eye for the key to saving the tairen and the Fey, and it sent me to you. ”
Selianne pushed open her home’s small side gate and walked through the tidy garden, untying the strings of her straw bonnet as she approached the lace-curtained kitchen door.
Her troubled thoughts returned as they had all afternoon to Ellysetta and her pending marriage to Rain Tairen Soul.
Though Selianne could see Ellie was all but glowing with happiness, she simply couldn’t bring herself to share that joy.
Ellie was too dear a friend, and Selianne had read too much about the dangers of magic and the dread power of the infamous Rain Tairen Soul for her to consider this marriage a happy occasion.
Far better if Ellie had wed that brute Den Brodson—or even the lecherous old Gilding Master Norble Weazman.
At least the harm they could do would only be physical.
The Fey could control people’s minds—and gods only knew what else—with their terrible magic.
Selianne opened the side door and let herself into her small, sunny kitchen. “Mother?” she called as she hung her bonnet on a peg by the door. “Bannon, Cerlissa, Mama’s home.” The kitchen was empty, and she couldn’t hear the children. “Mother?”
She walked down a short hallway to the main room and froze in sudden fear. A man stood over the sleeping bodies of her children as they lay on a blanket laid out before the hearth. Her mother stood motionless beside the hallway entrance, wearing a vacant look.
The man turned, his vivid blue-green eyes finding Selianne without hesitation, and a wave of ice washed over her.
Though she could place neither his name nor his face, the sight of him seemed dreadfully familiar—like a vision from one of the dark nightmares that had plagued her these past few days since the Fey had come to Celieria.
A smile spread across his handsome face. “Ah, Selianne, there you are. We were beginning to worry.”
Her hand clutched at her chest where a cold ache began to throb. She took a frantic half step towards her children, then gave a choked cry and stopped again at the sight of the wavy black blade in the man’s hand, its sharp point gleaming a deadly threat.
“Who are you?” Her voice shook with fear. “What do you want?”
“What do I want?” The man’s eyes darkened to a terrifying shade of black, endless, bottomless, soulless black that began to sparkle with malevolent red lights. “Why, you, my pet.”
Before Selianne could react, her mother stepped in front of her, lifted an open palm, and blew a cloud of sparkling white dust in Selianne’s face. She gasped in shock, then choked as the powder filled her lungs.
A strange, sapping lethargy crept over her. Her vision blurred, and she swayed. Her hands reached out, and she heard her own voice, sounding curiously distant, mumbling in confusion, “Mama?”
Kolis Manza watched the girl succumb to the somulus powder, and despite last night’s endless orgy, he felt the familiar stirring of desire. She was undeniably lovely, with her blond hair and deep blue eyes. Even amongst the beauties of the High Mage’s palace, she would hold her own.
“Come here, Selianne.” Patient, smiling, he waved her towards him.
Unlike her Eld-born mother, she’d not been soul-bound in childhood, so Kolis used drugs and careful weaves of Spirit and Azrahn to place Selianne in a dream state and plant directives that would guide her thoughts and actions without her knowledge.
Like the directive that amplified her fear and distrust of the Fey, and the directive that would soon command her to deliver Kolis’s wedding present to her friend, and the one that brought her to him now.
In her current trancelike state, she knew and obeyed her master, even though he’d carefully removed all memory of his visits from her conscious mind.