Chapter Seventeen #2
As they descended, Rain’s nose filled with the aroma of rich, earthy life, redolent with magic.
The scent reminded him of the caverns deep in the heart of Fey’Bahren.
No sconces burned along the walls, but tiny glowing golden orbs gave off just enough light that the Fey could place their feet without fear of falling.
The stair itself seemed hollowed out of the tree, the walls smooth and unmarred.
There was no railing to hold on to, but there was no need.
The passage was so narrow Rain’s armor-clad shoulders nearly rubbed the walls as he walked.
After what seemed an eternity, the stair finally opened to a dark cavern and a pool buried deep in the earth. No flames flickered within, but the pool in the center glowed bright blue from phosphorescent mosses lining it, and the soft light lit the entire chamber.
“This is the great mirror of Navahele,” Hawksheart told them when they had all gathered beside the pool. “It is the reason I requested your presence here, and the reason I would accept no ambassador sent by the Fey in your stead.”
“Explain,” Rain prompted. Already the hairs on the back of his neck were tingling as his tairen senses went on alert. This was Elvish magic—the very root of it—and Hawksheart had something up his sleeve.
?There is no need for your distrust.? Hawksheart’s voice plunged directly into Rain’s mind, calm and commanding.
?I only seek a better understanding of your truemate’s Song.
? Aloud, he said, “When a person calls a Song in the Dance, sometimes the verses of that Song are revealed more clearly when the Caller peers into the mirror. I had hoped, Rainier Feyreisen, that you and your mate would come when I first sent my ambassador to meet you in Celieria City. There were many verses your mate’s Song could have played then. ”
Rain moved closer to Ellysetta. “And now?”
“Fewer. All of them dangerous. Most of them shadowed.”
Ellysetta’s fingers closed around Rain’s wrist, and her sudden rush of fear brought his protective instincts to the fore.
“Are you saying the Mage will succeed in claiming my soul?” she asked.
Hawksheart tilted his head. His eyes fixed on her face unblinkingly as he admitted, “Several possibilities of your Song end on that note.”
“Is there no hope?”
“If there were none, I would not have sent Fanor to you except as an assassin.”
A warning growl rumbled in Rain’s throat, and Ellysetta’s quintet instantly closed ranks around her, fingers hovering over red Fey’cha hilts.
Hawksheart held up his hands. “Peace. The laws of Elvish hospitality are inviolable. Once you crossed the river Elva at my invitation, every Elf and forest dweller has ensured your protection.”
The assurance didn’t settle Ellysetta’s quintet. Their hands remained hovering over their steel, and their expressions remained stony, emotionless masks.
A sudden creaking groan broke the tense silence. The satin-smooth, seamless wooden walls of the chamber trembled, and the waters of the glowing blue pool rippled.
Rain dropped to a slight crouch—both to keep his balance and to prepare for an attack. His pupils widened, tairen and Fey vision combining, as he scanned the dim chamber with sudden suspicion, looking for the threat.
“What Elvish trick is this?” he snapped. Around Ellysetta, the quintet struggled to keep their balance as the wood beneath their feet shifted and bucked like a living creature.
“Grandfather does not like the threat of steel so close to his heartwood,” Hawksheart replied. “Put him at ease, my friends. Move your hands away from your blades.”
Warily, the quintet pulled their hands away from their blades. A moment later, the groaning tremors ceased and the floor beneath their feet went still and solid once more.
Ellysetta regarded the smooth wood of the tree’s interior with wide eyes. “This tree really is alive…like a person.”
“Bayas, Ellysetta Erimea. The Sentinels, especially, are intelligent—and deadly when roused. Grandfather was simply giving your quintet a polite warning. Had they truly threatened him or me, he would have slain everyone in this chamber in a matter of moments.”
The warriors tried to hide their unease, but Rain saw several of them flicking suspicious glances at the tree walls.
When Rijonn thought no one was looking, he gave the wooden floor a thump with the toe of his boot.
The floor thumped him back—hard enough that the great Fey jumped and nearly lost his balance. Gil gave his friend a withering glance.
Hawksheart ignored them both. “Ellysetta Erimea, will you look in my mirror?”
She wet her lips. “What will I see? Because I’ve looked into oracles before, and they’ve never shown anything pleasant.”
“I doubt that will be any different now.” A surprising note of kindness gentled Hawksheart’s voice.
“You were born to be a world changer. It is not an easy path to walk; nor, as your mate pointed out, is it one without great suffering and sacrifice.” He took a step forward, arms outstretched as if he meant to take her hands, but Rain and the quintet closed ranks again.
The Elf king stopped in his tracks. “The question, Ellysetta Erimea, is not whether you will change the world, but whether you will change it for the good.”
“How can you doubt?” Rain growled. “You have only to look at her to see she is bright and shining.”
“Elvish eyes see differently from Fey,” Hawksheart answered mildly.
“Your truemate’s Song is neither simple nor certain.
She holds within her the potential for great good as well as for the greatest evil this world has ever seen.
She is a vessel of the gods the likes of which has not been seen since the Time Before Memory.
Not even Grandfather has ever spoken of her except to say she was coming and that the Lord of Valorian must look for her arrival.
Make no mistake, Tairen Soul, the fate of the world lies in the balance, and your mate will determine which way the scales tip. ”
“I have already said I will choose death before I allow myself to fall to Darkness,” Ellysetta told him. “The tairen will see to it. I have their oaths.”
“Bayas. Those are possible end notes of your Song, and they still shine brightly, which means they may yet come to pass. But there are many different verses that lead to other possibilities, and they are the ones I hope to see more clearly. If you will consent to look in the mirror.”
Rain put a hand on Ellysetta’s shoulder. “If she consents, will you commit Elvia to join us in our fight against the Eld?”
Gold-tipped lashes shuttered the Elf king’s piercing eyes. “I cannot. If Elvia joins you now, the fate you fear most will come to pass.”
“All will be lost if you don’t help us,” Rain countered. “We cannot win against the Eld alone.”
“I agree you cannot, but if the Elves enter the coming battle, the High Mage will complete his claiming of your shei’tani—and that will mean the end of all Light in this world.
I have seen this in every variation of her Song.
It is a certainty, not a possibility. The Elves must not fight. It would seal the doom of us all.”
Ellysetta half turned towards Rain, instinctively seeking the shelter of his arms.
“Explain. How would your aid in this war ensure her Mage-claiming?” Rain persisted. He didn’t even ask how the Elf king knew she was Mage Marked. Elves Saw too much—about everything.
“She will not take the journey she must if the Elves come to your aid. That is all I can say. If I reveal more, the outcome might be equally as devastating.”
“Do not toy with us.” Rain’s fingers itched to pull his blades from their sheaths, but he kept his hands firmly at his sides.
“Forgive my bluntness, Lord Galad, but if you want Ellysetta to help you better See her Song in the Dance, you need to offer us something in return. And what she needs now is help to rid herself of her Mage Marks and complete our bond. What I need now are swords and bows and warriors to wield them.”
“There are only two ways to remove her Marks—either complete your bond or kill the Mage who Marked her. As for military aid, you have already been receiving that, whether you know it or not—or did you think the Feraz were going to sit idle in this new Mage War?”
Rain drew up short. “The Feraz?”
“Have been harrying my southern borders for months now.”
“Ambassador Brightwing said nothing of it when we met in Celieria City.”
“And I would say nothing now, except you are determined to think the worst of me.” Hawksheart pinched the bridge of his nose in a weary gesture.
“Believe me, Tairen Soul, I will give what aid I can when I know my interference will not send your mate’s Song down the path of destruction.
How to help is what I’ve been trying to See since the day I first Saw her Song as a boy—and lest you forget, I dispatched Brightwing to Celieria City to offer you that help the day I learned that her Song had begun, the day a Celierian maiden called a tairen from the sky. ”
Rain grew suddenly still. “That day in Tehlas, when you told my father I called a Song in the Dance, did you also know that I would have a truemate—and that she would be the one you’d been waiting for?”
The Elf’s expression grew shuttered, but he admitted the truth. “I Saw it before you were born.”
“You knew that I would scorch the world.”
“I knew. That Song was certain long before you were born.”
Anger simmered in his heart. “So you knew Sariel would die?”
“Your truemate could never have called your soul if you were still bound to Sariel.”
“And you just stood by and let it all happen?”