Chapter Eight
My beloved is the sun
And I am the earth that thrives only in her warmth.
My beloved is the rain
And I am the grass that thirsts for her quenching kiss.
My beloved is the wind
And I am the wings that soar when she fills me with her gentle strength.
My beloved is the rock
Upon which rests the happiness of all my days.
The Elements of Love, a poem by Aileron v’En Kavali of the Fey
That evening, two bells before sunset, Rain presented himself in full ceremonial splendor at the door of Sol Baristani’s humble home. Marissya and Dax accompanied him, along with Marissya’s quintet and another five Fey warriors carrying several chests.
After introducing Marissya and Dax, Rain bowed to Sol Baristani.
“This is how I should have begun, Master Baristani,” Rain said.
“In the Fading Lands, a man brings gifts to the home of his beloved to ask her family’s blessing on the courtship.
The gifts”—his hands gestured towards the three chests the Fey had carried into the room—“are intended to show the suitor’s depth of feeling for his prospective mate.
The stronger the bond to his mate, the more clearly he sees her family through her eyes.
If my gifts please you, then I have seen you clearly and the bond is true. Please, open them.”
Needing no further prodding, the twins fell upon the chest that bore their name and flung back the lid. Inside, a selection of brightly colored clothes with matching shoes and hairbows and a collection of porcelain dolls in full court dress elicited squeals of delight.
For Lauriana, Rain had selected a dashing burgundy dress adorned with black lace at the cuffs and collar, matching hat and gloves, a pair of gleaming black boots with sturdy heels and buttons up the side, and a black cape with downy soft fur at the collar.
The clothes were sensible, but of superior quality and workmanship, obviously expensive but discreet enough that Lauriana could wear them about the neighborhood without feeling as though she were putting on airs.
On the collar of the dress, an exquisite sun-and-moonstone cameo set in gold filigree gleamed with subtle and very feminine elegance.
Despite Lauriana’s distrust of the Fey, the stern lines of her face softened when she beheld the gifts meant for her. “It’s all lovely,” she said, running a hand over the fabric before she could catch herself. “Thank you.”
Sol’s chest contained a collection of raw woods, the finest to be found, including a large block of black, almost grainless ebonwood and a slightly smaller block of pale cinnamon-colored fireoak that would gleam like copper flame once it was properly polished.
Also nestled inside was a pouch containing a new burlwood pipe and a selection of fine tobaccos that made Sol smile in pleasure when he sniffed them.
“Well,” said Sol, caressing the wood with his master’s fingers, already envisioning the beauty waiting to be revealed by judicious application of his chisels and gouges. “The bond must indeed be true. I don’t believe you could have chosen better for any of us.”
Rain bowed low to show his appreciation of the fine compliment while Ellie’s five Fey guardians nodded approvingly and spread the word to the rest of the Fey that their king had successfully made his amends with his prospective bond-family.
“With these, Master Baristani”—Rain touched the ebonwood and fireoak—“I ask that you make a particular piece.” He carefully formed the image of what he wanted in his mind and, using a narrow weave of Spirit, placed that image in Sol’s mind. “Do you see it?”
Eyes wide with wonder, Sol nodded. “Yes.”
“Can you make it?”
“Yes.” Rain released his weave, and the picture winked out of Sol’s mind. Dazed, Sol touched his temple. “How did you do that?”
Rain explained, at least as well as he could to a mortal with no concept of magic.
“It is like drawing a picture, only instead of paper, I use Spirit. All living creatures hold Spirit within them. It is the energy that allows you to think thoughts, to dream, to imagine. Because you possess Spirit, I can communicate with you using it. Fey magic is merely the ability to control the elements and the mystics, to open their natural paths and weave them to our will.”
“And the mirror you made earlier?” Ellie asked, beginning to understand.
“Was Spirit. Not real, but a mental projection of a mirror that I created using Spirit. A bit more complex, because I tied to the image the ability to reflect the natural world. The mirror was both a picture of a mirror and a picture of what the mirror would see at any given moment. A master of Spirit can tap all of your senses, building taste, touch, smell, sound, everything into the weave, but an object created of Spirit remains an illusion at heart.”
“Bel told me that Kieran commands Earth and that things made of Earth are real.”
“Aiyah, but to weave Earth into substance, you must first have the substance to weave. You can pull it from the world around you, but that is difficult and takes great care and concentration as well as exceptional command of Earth. If you pull too much from something else, you damage it.” Rain’s eyes crinkled at the corners.
“Fey magic is not without its limitations, despite what mortals believe.”
“What of the wizards that come to Celieria? Are all their feats illusion also? Do they control Spirit like the Fey?”
“Some do. Most are charlatans. Others tap the dark magics, Azrahn chief among them. They use spells and charms to trap otherworld spirits and force the elements to their command.”
“You’re speaking of the Elden Mages,” Ellie said.
The Tairen Soul’s face hardened instantly into cold, unyielding lines. “Aiyah. The black-souled spawn of demons. They use Azrahn and other magics for their own evil purposes. They covet what the Fey possess and kill without remorse—how can death stain a soul already given over to the dark?”
?Rain.?
Even without Marissya’s silent warning, Rain saw the worry on Ellysetta’s face. Frightening her with his hatred of the Eld was no way to court her. “Enough of the Eld,” he commanded. “It is never a pleasant subject with me.”
He looked at Sol and Lauriana. “I asked Marissya and Dax to accompany me so that we might negotiate the Celierian marriage contract. Is there somewhere we may sit and speak?”
“Of course. Lauriana has prepared the parlor and set out a plate of refreshments in anticipation of your visit. If you will follow me?” Sol led the way into the parlor.
When Ellysetta did not immediately accompany them, Rain paused and held out an arm. “Join me, shei’tani. Celierian customs may leave such negotiations to the parents, but in the Fading Lands, the conditions of courtship and matebonding require the consent of both mates.”
Surprise and gratitude warmed her eyes. She placed her fingers on his wrist and allowed him to lead her into the parlor.
The small parlor seemed to grow smaller when the two Fey Lords entered. It had been built for Celierian comfort, not Fey, and the ceiling was slightly lower to create a cozy feel. Too cozy, Rain thought, as his head almost brushed the ceiling.
He moved to take the most vulnerable seat in the room, a large green wingback chair with its back to the window, and gestured for Ellysetta to sit beside him on a matching ottoman that placed her securely between the protective strength of himself and Dax.
Lauriana bustled about the room serving keflee and frosted hazel-cakes before settling down beside her husband.
“In twelve days’ time, immediately after the Prince’s betrothal ceremony, the Fey return to the Fading Lands,” Rain began.
“Ellysetta must accompany me.” He felt Ellysetta’s quick spurt of surprise and trepidation.
?Peace, shei’tani. I cannot leave you here alone and unguarded, but I cannot stay either. ?
“Twelve days,” Lauriana breathed, staring at him in shock.
“I hoped to return sooner, but Marissya has convinced me that Ellysetta needs time to prepare for her new life.” Rain chafed at the delay.
He wanted Ellysetta safe in the Fading Lands, protected by the magical barrier of the Faering Mists that surrounded the Fey homeland.
He could not court his truemate properly here in Celieria, where he must remain vigilant, always on the alert for an attack.
Neither could he forget his obligations to the tairen.
If the Eye had steered Rain true, Ellysetta was the key to saving the tairen and the Fey, and that meant he must bring her to the Fading Lands as soon as possible.
“If you are amenable, we will draw up the Celierian marriage contract tonight and hold the ceremony in two or three days.”
“Two or three days?” Lauriana exclaimed.
“Impossible!” She clasped her hands to her cheeks, horror etched on her face.
“The Church alone requires seven weeks for devotions and the Bride’s Blessing.
Not to mention all the other necessities.
She needs a wedding dress, a trousseau. We must notify our friends and family.
And then there are flowers, food, prenuptial dinners, receptions .
. .” She shook her head. “No. I’ll need three months at least. Unless you wish to shame us and our daughter with some shoddy, rushed little affair? ”
Rain’s spine stiffened. Shame his truemate? The insult was outrageous. “This I would never do.” His voice was cold and clipped. “I do not have three months to give you. In twelve days, I leave Celieria. Ellysetta will accompany me then.”
“It is very little time, I know,” Marissya broke in.
The shei’dalin cast a warning glance at her king.
?Their ways are not ours, Rain. You brought me here to negotiate.
Allow me to do so.? Turning her attention to Lauriana, Marissya continued, “Your daughter’s wedding will be as grand as you desire and will bring your family honor, I assure you. ”