Chapter Seventeen #4
?Gaelen, what are you doing?? Ellysetta objected. ?Let me handle this.?
?Las, kem’falla. You cannot afford the delay.? He met the captain’s gaze with glittering, icy eyes. “I am vel Serranis.”
Ellysetta didn’t think it was possible for the captain’s face to go even paler, but it did.
He swallowed and clenched his jaw. “Gaelen vel Serranis, by order of the queen, I am placing you under arrest. Step forward, ser, and hold out your hands.” One of the men behind him moved closer and held out a set of black metal shackles with shaking hands.
Beside Ellysetta, Bel gave a shudder of revulsion. “Were you also ordered to bind him in sel’dor?” he demanded.
“I was. The Dark Lord’s power is too dangerous to leave unfettered.”
No expression crossed Gaelen’s face as one of the soldiers approached with the sel’dor manacles, but fierce protectiveness rose up in Ellysetta.
She had restored Gaelen’s soul. He had bloodsworn himself to her.
He was hers. She’d not been able to stop her countrymen from torturing Bel last week, but she would not let the same thing happen to Gaelen.
“Captain,” she protested, “if binding Gaelen’s powers is what you require, the Fey can do it. There’s no need for these.” Before anyone realized her intent, she stepped between Gaelen and the approaching soldier and snatched the manacles out of the unsuspecting man’s hands.
Fiery pain scorched her palms and shot halfway up her arms. A shocked cry broke from her lips. The sel’dor restraints fell to the cobbles, and she stared in astonishment at her hands. The skin was bright red and already swelling with nascent blisters.
Her quintet leapt to surround her. Blades hissed out of scabbards.
Celierians and Fey faced each other, snarling, over bared steel.
The Tairen’s Eye crystals pressed against Ellysetta’s waist tingled almost painfully in response to a sudden surge of powerful magic.
Around her, each Fey held both steel and power at the ready, waiting for the signal to attack.
“Stop,” Gaelen commanded. “Put down your weapons. I will go with them, bound in sel’dor as they demand.” He stood unresisting as the soldier bent to retrieve the sel’dor manacles and locked them firmly around his wrists. “Trust me, kem’falla. This is for the best.”
Ellysetta flinched at the sound of the lock snapping closed. “We’ll go to the king,” she vowed. “We’ll have Marissya Truthspeak you while you tell him what’s happening in the north. He’ll have to believe you.”
“There isn’t time for that. Go. Do what you must. I will be fine.
” He didn’t resist as the soldiers led him away.
“Get her to the cathedral, vel Jelani!” he called over his shoulder.
“And get those shields up as soon as you cross the bridge.” To Ellysetta’s shock, he threw back his head and laughed.
“Miora felah ti’Feyreisa! And gods bless meddling Celierian queens! ”
“Why is he laughing? What did he mean, ‘bless the queen?’” She turned to Bel and found him staring after Gaelen with a peculiar expression on his face. “Bel?”
Bel turned back and flashed a quick signal to Teris, who hurried to Ellysetta’s side and wove Fire to draw the worst of the heat from her burned hands. Around them, the remaining Celierian guards backed carefully away, clearing the path to the cathedral.
“Look at your hands, Ellysetta.” Bel’s cobalt eyes gleamed bright. “The sel’dor burned you. Badly. And you weren’t even weaving magic.”
Her eyes widened in sudden realization. “Sel’dor doesn’t burn Eld flesh.”
“Nei,” he agreed, “it doesn’t. Such a strong reaction can mean only one thing.” A dazzling smile broke across his face. “Beyond a shadow of a doubt, Ellysetta, you are Fey. Full-blooded, immensely powerful Fey.”
Whatever the High Mage was to her, he was definitely not her father.
Selianne was already at the cathedral when Lauriana arrived.
The younger woman was standing in silent prayer at a shrine of the lesser goddess, Asha, guardian of health, hearth, and family.
As Lauriana approached, Selianne removed a golden pendant from her neck and placed it in the altar’s offering bowl alongside the coins and jewelry left by previous supplicants.
“Someone in your family is ailing, Selianne?”
The girl gave a startled jump and spun around. “Madame Baristani! I didn’t hear you come in.” She clasped a hand to her chest as if to still her pounding heart. “Yes, I’m afraid my mother hasn’t been feeling quite herself lately.”
“Oh, dear, I’m so sorry to hear that. I hope it’s nothing serious.”
“A minor chest ailment. But after that nasty bout she suffered this past winter, I promised myself I’d make a point of praying for divine healing sooner rather than later.”
Lauriana forced a smile and tried to tamp down her own nerves. She wanted to take Selianne into her confidence, but she didn’t dare. Selianne had no necklace to keep her thoughts secure from Fey intrusion, and Lauriana couldn’t risk the chance of discovery.
A whisper of soft leather soles on the marble floor brought her spinning around.
The archbishop walked towards them down the center of the nave.
As usual, his tunic was a pure, pristine white.
But this morning, even the sleeveless robe worn over his tunic was white rather than blue, a symbol of his recently purified soul and his readiness to perform the sacred rites of the Bride’s Blessing.
“Good morning, Madame Baristani, Madame Pyerson.”
Lauriana and Selianne both sank into curtseys and kissed his extended ring.
He turned his stern gaze on Lauriana. “Are you ready, Madame Baristani?”
She swallowed and nodded. “As ready as any mother can be on such a day.”
“Put your heart at ease, madam,” he offered with an uncharacteristic show of kindness. “It will all work out for the best. You’ll see.”
A muffled commotion sounded near the main cathedral entrance. Five Fey in full steel strode into the nave. A young man in the blue tunic and robes of a novitiate priest hurried after them. “Sers! You cannot enter the cathedral with weapons! It is forbidden!”
Lauriana recognized the Fey as one of the groups of warriors who guarded her home and her daughter.
Their leader—What was his name? Ravel something—bowed and extended a sealed letter to the archbishop.
“Greatfather, we come with the authorization of King Dorian, to secure the cathedral before the Feyreisa’s arrival. ”
Lauriana’s breath caught in her throat. Secure the cathedral?
By the king’s authority? Lauriana’s vague worries coalesced into sudden, sharp fear.
Had the Fey somehow realized what she and the archbishop had arranged?
Had Father Nivane’s charm failed and allowed them to pick up some wayward, betraying thought?
Her hands knotted together, and fear buzzed in her veins, leaving her breathless and dizzy.
Calm down, Laurie, and think of something else.
The archbishop snatched the parchment from the Fey’s fingertips, ripped open the seal, and scanned the document.
“Your king,” the Fey continued as the archbishop read, “has granted us the right to search both the nave and the Solarus where you will conduct the rites of the Bride’s Blessing.”
The archbishop’s hand began to clench around the note, but he stopped himself before committing the petty treason of crumpling the king’s missive.
Instead, he collected his composure with visible effort and gave the Fey an icy glare.
“Search, then, but be quick about it. I’ll not have your weapons polluting the Bright Lord’s house more than a moment necessary. Are you the leader of these men?”
Ravel bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment.
“Then only you—under my supervision—may search the altar, luminary, and Solarus. And you will not bring steel or magic to any of those holiest of places. That is not negotiable.”
“Agreed.” Without the slightest change in his expression, the Fey removed his knife belts and sword harnesses and swept a hand towards the altar. “After you, Greatfather.”
Behind him, two of the Fey walked slowly around the perimeter of the nave, checking under altars and opening the rows of carved and gilded wooden devotionals to peer inside the private prayer rooms. The other two warriors went row by row through all the pews, lifting cushions, inspecting hymnals, and checking under the pews themselves.
Selianne huddled closer. “What do you think they’re looking for?” she whispered.
“I don’t know, dear,” Laurie lied. She patted the girl’s hand. “I’m sure it’s just a precautionary measure to ensure Ellie’s safety.”
Ravel and the archbishop finished an equally in-depth inspection of the main altar and the raised platform of the luminary, and began heading towards the Solarus.
Lauriana couldn’t tear her gaze away as the two men opened the heavy connecting door and entered the small, sacred chapel.
She forced herself to remain calm, breathing slow and steady, working hard to marshal her thoughts.
The archbishop didn’t once look back her way, and his manner bespoke nothing more consequential than stiff affront at the invasion of the holy site entrusted to his care.
They remained in the Solarus for what seemed like ages. All the while, Lauriana waited for the accusatory cry. Time inched by . . . one chime . . . five . . . a quarter bell. Perspiration gathered on her upper lip and slicked her palms. Her nerves stretched to the breaking point.
Just as she grew certain of discovery, Ravel and the archbishop returned to the nave.
Without a word, Ravel gathered up his steel, and all five warriors headed for the main entrance of the cathedral.
He paused at the doorway. “Thank you for your time, ladies, Greatfather. The Fey regret any inconvenience, and we appreciate your gracious understanding and cooperation.” He bowed quite deeply, then spun away and made his exit.
“Well,” Selianne murmured. “That was exciting.”
“Yes.” Lauriana excused herself and hurried to the archbishop’s side. “Greatfather?”
The cleric patted her hand. “Do not trouble yourself, daughter. All is well.”
A few chimes later, Lauriana’s ears detected the clap of approaching boot steps, and the familiar, despised tang of freshly woven magic soured her tongue.
Ellysetta and her Fey guards had arrived.
Ellysetta climbed the thirteen steps of the Cathedral of Light’s Grand Entrance, and stood waiting while her quintet, with a great show of grudging acceptance, surrendered their steel to the young novitiate priest waiting by the cathedral door.
Behind her, at all corners of the Isle of Grace, the Fey were spinning dense, impenetrable twenty-five-fold weaves that rose up around the Isle like a massive dome of shimmering, sunlit mist. Through the open double doors of the cathedral, she could see the archbishop’s pristine white form standing at the far end of the nave.
Selianne stood on his left side, looking pale and frightened, no doubt waiting for the Fey to scream “Eld spy!” and slay her. Mama stood on his right.
The sight of her mother made Ellysetta reconsider her suspicions about who had betrayed Gaelen to the queen.
If Mama had done it, why would she show up for the Blessing?
To willingly lock herself behind magic shields with a hundred Fey after turning Gaelen in for crimes against the crown seemed uncharacteristically reckless.
With her quintet following close behind, Ellysetta approached the altar. She stopped directly before her mother. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
Lauriana’s lips trembled before she clamped them tight. “You’re my daughter, Ellysetta,” she replied. “If you insist on leaving with the Fey, I can at least see you properly blessed and wed before you go.” Her jaw worked for a moment. “Don’t think that means I approve of your choice. I don’t.”
Ellysetta nodded. Disapproval she could live with. The loss of her mother’s love, she could not. Then, because she had to know, she lowered her voice to a whisper and asked, “Did you say anything about . . . the guest who came with me to the house this morning? Did you report him to the queen?”
Lauriana drew back in genuine surprise. “No!” Her brows lowered to a scowl. “Though I probably should have, come to think of it.”
Though Ellysetta was far from accomplished with her Fey gifts, she couldn’t detect any hint of a lie. Her mother was very nervous and tense—which made perfect sense, considering her intense dislike and suspicion of the Fey—but she hadn’t been behind Gaelen’s arrest.
Ellysetta exhaled a relieved breath. “Thank you for coming, Mama,” she said.
“I know it wasn’t an easy decision for you, and I love you for caring enough to be here, despite your reservations.
” She wished she could weave time like the Fey wove the elements and erase the harsh words she and her mother had exchanged this morning.
“You’ve always been my beacon. It wouldn’t have felt right to receive the Bride’s Blessing without you by my side. ”
Tears filled her mother’s eyes, but when Ellysetta stepped forward, intending to embrace her, Lauriana turned away and choked out, “Please, Greatfather, let’s get started.”
Ellysetta’s arms fell to her sides. The rejection hurt almost as badly as Rain’s abandonment last night. But Mama was here, she reminded herself. Despite her doubts and obvious fears, Mama had come to stand at Ellysetta’s side. Rain, wherever he was, hadn’t even offered that much.