Chapter Nine #4
Weary and full of despair, no less troubled than when she’d begun her prayers, she exited the Solarus. Father Celinor stood near the doorway, his blue eyes gentle and compassionate.
“She’s a good girl, Madame Baristani,” he said.
“I don’t think you have to worry about her losing her path among the Fey, no matter what the pamphleteers and rabble-rousers are claiming.
Once tempers calm and people starting thinking again instead of reacting in fear to these dahl’reisen threats, they’ll remember that the Fey are soldiers of the Light. ”
“I hope you’re right, Father,” Lauriana murmured.
He patted her hand. “Trust the Bright Lord to protect the souls in his keeping.”
She nodded with obedience but no sincerity and took her leave.
Outside on the street, her doubts and fears rose up again, and she went about her errands in a cloud of despair, desperate to find a way to save Ellie but helpless to know how to go about it.
She even, gods help her, considered approaching the Brethren of Radiance, but the moment she came within sight of their wild, wailing followers, she turned and fled.
Desperate she might be, but not desperate enough to trade magic for madness.
All the while, the Shadow Seer’s warning rang hauntingly in her ears: Save her, mother. Only you can save her.
When she left Maestra Binchi’s shop on Queen’s Street after finishing the final fitting of her gown for the wedding, she broke down into helpless tears.
She’d just tried on the most beautiful gown she’d ever worn, custom-tailored for her by the country’s leading Maestra of fashion.
It should have been one of the giddiest, most exciting experiences of her life, a prelude to the even happier event of her oldest daughter’s nuptial celebration.
Instead, as she’d stood there, draped in exquisite, costly silks, all she could think was, Will I dance in silk and jewels while I send my daughter to her doom?
A familiar voice called her name, “Madame Baristani?”
She looked up, scrubbing her tears away with the palms of her hands. Selianne was standing on the sidewalk, not far from Maestra Binchi’s shop door. She carried a bag filled with parcels and was watching Lauriana with a worried expression.
“Madame Baristani, are you all right?”
“Oh, Selianne.” She began to weep again. Here was someone who shared both Lauriana’s love for Ellie and her fear of the Fey. Here was someone she could talk to, someone who would understand. “No, kitling, I don’t think I am all right.”
Selianne stepped closer and slipped a comforting arm around Lauriana’s shoulders. “Come with me, Madame Baristani.” She glanced around at the storefronts surrounding them. “There’s Narra’s tea shop. Why don’t we share a nice pot of tea, and you can tell me what’s troubling you.”
Two bells later, Lauriana knelt beside Selianne and Ellysetta at the altar in the Grand Cathedral of Light, her head bowed in prayer, sneaking glances at Greatfather Tivrest. For the first time in days, she felt a glimmer of hope.
“I think you should speak to the archbishop,” Selianne had suggested after Lauriana poured out her litany of fears in Narra’s tea shop.
“He’s a sensible man, and a godly one. He’s even powerful enough in the church to challenge King Dorian to protect the souls in his care.
Talk to him. Tell him everything you’ve told me. I’d be surprised if he can’t help.”
Now, looking at him as he stood at the altar, stern and strong in his faith, she knew Selianne was right.
The archbishop was no blind admirer of the Fey like Celinor, nor a wild-eyed fanatic like the Fey-hating Brethren of Radiance. He was a sensible, orthodox man, a disciplined soldier of the Light, and a noble as powerful as any in King Dorian’s court.
If any man could help her save Ellie, Greatfather Tivrest could.
He sketched the sign of the Lord of Light and intoned the final blessing of today’s devotions. “Arise, daughters,” he said when he was done, “and walk in Light.”
The three women rose, and the air of formal ceremony faded.
“Well, that’s that, then,” Selianne said, rubbing her hands together and flexing the fingers that had been clasped in prayer for most of the last bell. “Tomorrow is the Bride’s Blessing. Are you ready, Ell?”
Ellysetta nodded. “I think so.”
“Nervous?”
“A little.”
“It gets worse when it’s time for the actual wedding.”
They all laughed, including Lauriana. Ellie’s expression grew a little more solemn. “You seem to be feeling better now, Mama.”
“I am.” From the corner of her eye, Lauriana saw the archbishop turn to descend from the altar.
She pressed a quick kiss on Ellie’s cheek, then Selianne’s.
“You girls run on. I’m just going to have a word with Greatfather Tivrest.” She hurried towards him.
“Your Grace? Can you spare a moment, please?”
“I wonder what that’s about,” Ellysetta murmured to Selianne.
Her friend shrugged. “Wedding stuff, most likely. I’d better be going. Gerwyn’s out of town, so Mama’s watching the children.”
“Still? He’s been gone for days.”
Selianne nodded glumly. “I know. I miss him terribly.”
Ellysetta felt the tingle of magic as the Fey tore down the barriers around the isle, then a familiar rush of emotion and power. What was Rain doing here? He’d always waited until she returned home before he collected her for their daily courtship bells. “Sel, Rain’s here.”
Poor Selianne looked as if someone had jabbed her with a knife. “I, uh . . . I think I’ll go out the back.” She turned and fled.
Ellysetta watched her disappear. She supposed it was a good thing, after all, that Selianne wasn’t going to attend the wedding.
It wouldn’t look good to have her Honoria faint from fear of the groom during the ceremony.
Of course, it would look even worse to have the groom murder the Honoria because he read her mind and discovered she was part Eld.
At least, she and her best friend had been able to share this much—and thank the Bright Lord that Rain’s dire predictions about the Mages consuming Selianne’s soul had not come true.
She gave a quick, fanning wave, marshaled her thoughts, and hurried out of the cathedral into the bright sunlight where Rain stood waiting on the manicured lawn.
“Did you miss me so much?” she asked, a teasing smile on her face.
“Have I been such a poor suitor that you must ask?” His teeth flashed in a smoldering smile, and his voice lowered to a throaty purr. “I shall endeavor to do better.”
Oh, my. She knew that look, that tone. Her cheeks flushed scarlet.
He laughed softly and moved close so that his body almost touched hers, but didn’t; energy zinged between them all the same. Teasing her.
Her eyes narrowed. Two could play that game.
He’d even taught her how. Mindful of being in a public place, she didn’t use her hands.
She just closed her eyes, concentrated, and sent her essence rolling over in him in pulsating waves.
His breath hissed on a sharp intake, and she smiled in satisfaction as she felt the rewarding stun to his senses.
When he caught his breath, he regarded her with glowing, half-closed eyes. “If I’m very, very good, shei’tani, will you do that again when we’re alone?”
She laughed. Without a care for their public location or the worshippers walking past them, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly.
The teasing passion in his eyes softened to a different, more tender emotion, one that made her heart skip a beat. His hand trailed down the side of her face, brushing back spiraling tendrils of hair. “Come, shei’tani, dance the skies with your mate.”
He didn’t escort her outside beyond the city walls as he usually did. Instead, he Changed right there on the cathedral lawn, much to the outrage of the priests who saw him. Ellysetta barely noticed. She settled into place on Rain’s back and together they sprang into the sky.
“You see what I mean, Your Grace?” Lauriana pointed out the window at the disappearing shadow of the Fey king’s tairen form.
“He calls his magic right here, on holy ground, with no respect for our beliefs or our ways. He’s encouraging Ellie to try magic as well.
I’m sure of it. She’s so in love with him, she’ll do anything to please him.
I fear that in time she’d even turn her back on the Bright Path if he asked it of her. ”
Greatfather Tivrest turned away from the window and paced across his private office, his brows drawn together in an expression that was half scowl, half thoughtful deliberation.
“It is perhaps providential, Madame Baristani, that you came to me today to discuss your fears.” He glanced up, apparently having come to some sort of decision. “Will you follow me, please?”
He lit an oil lamp from his desk and led her to a small, windowless room adjoining his office.
Long velvet drapes hung from floor to ceiling to ward off the chill of the ancient stone walls, and a small altar sat in one corner, its stone surface cluttered with dozens of red candles.
The room still smelled of smoke and sago flowers as if someone had been burning those altar candles only recently.
Moving to the left wall, he parted the drapes to reveal a small metal door that he proceeded to unlock with a key he pulled from a pocket inside his robes. The door swung inward, opening to a narrow, curving stone stairway. A dim glow of light shone up from the darkness below.
“You are not the first to approach me this morning concerned about the safety of your daughter’s soul,” he said as they descended.
“Three brothers from the north came to see me as well.” The stairs opened up to a small room furnished with a simple wooden table and chairs.
The room’s occupants—three men in scarlet robes—rose to their feet and turned to greet them as Lauriana and the archbishop entered.
“This,” Greatfather Tivrest said, indicating the older of the two, “is Father Lucial Bellamy, head of the Order of Adelis. And this”—he gestured to the younger, white-haired priest at his side—“is Father Nivane, one of the brothers in his service. And the father standing in the shadows over there is Father Brevard.” Father Brevard did not move from the shadows, nor remove the hood concealing his face.
Lauriana had never met any of the three men before, but even without the Greatfather’s mention of their Order, the first glimpse of their scarlet robes had told her who—or rather what—they were.
Exorcists.