Chapter Seventeen #3
“Stood by?” For the first time, anger sparked in the Elf king’s eyes.
“My people fought beside yours in every battle and died by the tens of thousands—many by your flame—which I and many of those who perished had Seen before it happened. Loved ones I had known for millennia surrendered their immortal lives to help the Fey hold the Shadow at bay, but some things, Rain Worldscorcher, we could not prevent. Some things had to unfold exactly as they did because the gods willed it so.”
“The gods,” Rain spat. “You mean that flaming Dance of yours.”
“Of course I mean the Dance!” Hawksheart exclaimed.
“The Dance is the will of the gods, and our ability to See it was the gift entrusted to the first Elf, Taliesin Silvereye, when the gods fashioned our peoples from the stars. You Fey are the champions of Light, the chosen swords of the gods in the fight against the Dark. We Elves are the beacons, born to guide and aid you.”
“Guide us? If the Mage Wars were the outcome of your guidance, the Fey can scorching well do without it!”
“And yet, here you are, seeking my help and guidance.”
Rain opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. Damn the Elf. “Because I have no choice. Because my shei’tani needs answers only you can provide. And because I know we cannot win this war without your help—and you know it, too, yet still you refuse to provide it.”
“There is much you do not understand.”
“Because you refuse to tell me.”
“Because I cannot reveal the future I have Seen without changing what will happen!” Hawksheart snapped.
“Too much is at stake, Tairen Soul. More than you can imagine. You distrust me, and I understand that. But I assure you, the Elves are in the service of the Light and always have been. My people left the Fading Lands when the Fey raised the Mists, but the moment you returned to the world, I sent my ambassador to you so that I could offer guidance and counsel as I have to every other Defender of the Fey who has ruled the Fading Lands. Your response,” he added pointedly, “was to send one I did not invite in your stead.”
Rain scowled. “I needed to get Ellysetta behind the Mists. Keeping her safe from the Mages was my first priority, and that took precedence over any desire of yours, Elf.” Violence simmered just beneath the surface of Rain’s skin.
Already he could feel the tairen raking at its bonds, claws unsheathed and sharp as knives, the hunter’s growl rumbling deep within him.
Ellysetta put a hand over his. ?He is not the enemy, shei’tan, and though he is definitely keeping something from us, he is sincere in his desire to help.
? Aloud, to Hawksheart, she said, “Rain did what he thought best, Lord Galad, just as I’m sure you do.
I will look into your mirror, but I want three things in return.
” Her voice throbbed with low, persuasive shei’dalin tones.
Whether influenced by her push or not, Hawksheart bowed his head in agreement. “Name your price, Ellysetta Erimea. If I can give you what you request without endangering the outcome of your Song, I will.”
“First, I want your oath, sworn on all you hold dear, that you will do everything in your power to stop me from becoming the monster I saw in the Eye of Truth.”
The Elf king nodded. “This I am already sworn to do. If you fall to the Mages, Ellysetta, Light falls with you, and the Dance of this world dies. What else?”
“I want to know how to complete my truemate bond with Rain.”
Even before she finished speaking, Hawksheart was shaking his head. “Anio. That, I am afraid, I cannot tell you. That is a journey you and your mate must take together—without outside aid or interference.”
“But—”
“I am sorry,” he interrupted, his tone firm and uncompromising. “I cannot guide the journey your souls must take. Only the two of you can do that.”
“Will you at least tell us if we will complete our bond?” she persisted.
The Elf king hesitated, clearly reluctant, but after several moments, he admitted, “There are several variations of your Song that contain that verse.”
“Beylah vo, Lord Galad.” She threaded her fingers through Rain’s. “That gives me a measure of hope, at least.” She took a deep breath. “Then I have one final request.”
“Which is?”
“I want to know the truth about myself. I want to know how I know the things I do. Why can I wield Fey’cha like a master when I’ve never touched one before?
Why can I heal souls in ways no other shei’dalin can?
Where did I come from and what was done to me—and can it be undone?
I want to know who my birth parents were and if they’re still alive. ”
Hawksheart bowed his head for a moment, and his eyes closed as if he were suddenly weary. “What was done cannot be undone, my child. The past can only be used to shape the future.”
“I understand that. But if I agree to look in your mirror, you must give me the truth about my past.” She took a step closer. “You do know it, don’t you? If I am the one you’ve been waiting for, surely you must have Seen it.”
He inhaled deeply and exhaled a heavy sigh. “Bayas,” he admitted. “I know your truth. If you are certain you wish to know it, too, then I will share it with you. You have Seen a part of it yourself already.”
“Thank you.” Ellysetta drew a deep breath.
A sense of fatalistic calm suffused her.
Not knowing was far worse than any unpleasant secret Hawksheart might reveal.
She couldn’t change what she was or where she came from, but she could at least face the truth and find a way to make peace with it.
She was tired of jumping at shadows and fearing what she was.
“Then we have a compact?”
Rain’s arm tightened around her waist. ?Be very sure this is what you want, shei’tani,? he whispered. ?Once you strike a bargain with an Elf, he will hold you to your word; and inevitably what you bargained for doesn’t turn out the way you expected.?
She patted the golden steel brace covering his forearm.
?I need to do this, Rain. Mama always used to say it’s better to choke on a bitter truth than savor a honeycake lie.
He has the answers I need, and this may be my only chance to discover them.
? She stroked his hand, each touch a caress filled with love and understanding and pleading.
After a few moments, his arm fell reluctantly away from her waist.
“Well?” Hawksheart prompted. “Do we have an agreement?” His piercing Elvish eyes never left her face.
Ellysetta swallowed a sudden stab of fear and nodded. “Aiyah.”
“The offer has been made and accepted. The bargain is Elf-struck.” He clapped his hands and sparks shot out in a blossom of gold and green fire to swirl in the air between them.
A sudden electric tingle raced through her veins.
When the sparks faded, the Elf king waved an arm towards the shining blue pool.
“Kneel beside the mirror. I would first See your Song, and then I will give you the truth of your past.”
As Ellysetta moved towards the pool and knelt on the spongy moss at its bank, Hawksheart walked towards the edge of the dim chamber.
He laid his hands upon the inner tree wall and murmured something in lyrical Elvish.
A moment later, the chamber was flooded with a pleasant but rather overpowering woodsy aroma, sweet, earthy, and pungent.
Ellysetta swayed as dizziness overtook her.
Do not fear, and do not resist. Hawksheart’s voice rang in her head like the tolling of a bell, resonant and irresistible.
Not Spirit but something else. Something deeper and more powerful.
Grandfather merely shares the scent of his liferings.
It will help open your mind to the mirror.
Breathe deeply. Take his scent into your lungs.
Without hesitation, Ellysetta breathed as deeply as her lungs would allow. The dim room took on a hazy cast, as if a mist had crept into the chamber to throw everything out of focus. Beside her, in the depths of the shimmering blue pool, colors began to gather and swirl.
Now hold your hands over the mirror. When I tell you, put your palms upon the surface of the water…but be very careful not to submerge them. The mirror is powerful magic, and you are not trained in its use.
Her hands moved of their own volition out over the water. The colors in the pool leaped and twirled towards them as if in greeting. Ellysetta watched with a dazed sense of detachment, as if those hands belonged to someone else.
?Shei’tani?? Rain’s thoughts pressed against hers. Some part of her was dimly aware of his concern, but she couldn’t seem to summon a response. Her lungs were filled with the overpowering fragrance of the Sentinel, and her mind felt muddled.
She watched with a strange, detached disorientation as her hands lowered, palms down, fingers splayed, until at last the cool water of the mirror touched her skin.
Her eyelashes fluttered, and she felt a strange, electric tug, as if the liquid in the pool were pure magic.
Perhaps it was—and it was trying to draw her into its blue depths. She leaned forward.
Stop.
Hawksheart’s command froze her in place. Her hands barely kissed the still surface of the pool.
You know how to share your essence with a thing. Share it with the mirror now.
She drew a breath, closed her eyes, and summoned the brilliant rainbow-lit darkness of Fey vision.
In that darkness the world around her was a bright weave of glowing magic: red Fire, green Earth, gleaming blue Water, silvery Air, and lavender Spirit.
Here, in the heart of Grandfather, the colors were so dense the darkness was virtually impossible to see, and the water of the mirror shone a blinding blue-white.
Into that dazzling brightness she poured a portion of the potent energy that was her essence, the living magic unique to her alone.