Lord of the Fading Lands (10 page)

"No. I know he's weaving magic, because he said so and his hands are glowing a little more, but even knowing it's there, I can't sense it." She lifted shaking hands to her mouth and turned away. "Dear gods. I can't believe you brought them with you, Fey oath or not.”

"I'm sorry, Sel. It was either that or not come at all, and your note sounded so frightened. I did the best I could.”

"I know. I'm sorry that I sounded ungrateful. I do appreciate your coming, and at least you didn't bring …
him .. .
with you." She jerked her chin towards one of the paintings of Rain Tairen Soul. "It's bad enough that he's here in the city—but to have him claim you. What happens when he finds out about my mother?”

Ellie clasped Selianne's hands. "He's not going to find out," she vowed, staring earnestly into her friend's terrified blue eyes. "I won't let him. I'll lock the memory away so deep inside me, he won't be able to find it, and we'll just stay away from each other until he's gone. Do you hear me? Everything's going to be all right" She filled her voice with conviction, and kept her hands clasped tight around Selianne's cold fingers until her friend's terror began to abate.

After several moments, the reassurance seemed to sink in. Selianne nodded and drew a deep breath. "All right. Good plan. We'll avoid each other until he's gone." Releasing El- lie's hands, she let out a shaky laugh. "How soon will that be? And is there anything you can do to hurry it up?”

Ellie laughed too. "You sound like Mama.”

"I knew there was a reason I loved her so much" Selianne flashed a brief grin, then shook her head again. "I just can't believe it, Ellysetta. There must be Fey blood in you from some-where." Her blond brows rose. "Maybe you're the child of a
dahl'reisen.”

"Maybe I'm the child of Celierians and I'm just sensitive to magic because I come from the north," Ellie answered repressively. She took Selianne's arm and began to walk with her away from the Fey. "What excuse did you give Gerwyn to leave the house so late at night?”

"He thinks I'm with the Ladies of Light, planning the Sun Festival.”

"What will he do when he finds out you're not?”

"He won't. I actually was with the Ladies tonight. I just stopped here on my way home." Selianne waved a dismissive hand. "Enough about that. Tell me everything.”

Ellie tried to recap the day's tumultuous events quickly, but Selianne insisted on details. Soon the whole emotion-filled tale came pouring out: Den's attack the previous night, the fire cage and Rain Tairen Soul's claiming of her, the shattering news of Ellie's betrothal this evening.

"Oh, that sneaking, conniving, rotten little maggot," Selianne breathed when Ellie told her about Den's assault and showed her the mark on her neck. "But I thought the mark had to be someplace ..." She broke off, blushing.

"I know, so did I, but apparently it's the mark, not the location, that's important.”

"Surely your parents wouldn't really make you marry him?”

"They've already signed the betrothal papers, and they won't break the contract for fear of how it would hurt the family and Papa's business. And now that Rain Tairen Soul did what he did, I think Mama is even more determined to see me wed to Den. She's afraid of the Fey and their magic. She hasn't said as much, but I think she'd rather marry me off to old Master Weazman than see me wed to a Fey." The ancient, toothless old Gilding Master was known as much for his lechery as for his exquisite work with precious metals.

"Well, put that way, I admit I understand her concern. The Fey are a frightening, secretive lot. And we all know what they're capable of." Ellie stiffened. "The same can be said of several other races I could name, Selianne.”

Selianne gave her a reproachful look. "There's no need to get personal, Ellysetta.”

"Sorry." Ellie blew out a breath. "I'm a bit on edge." She rubbed her arms and the back of her neck to massage away the faint tension gathering there.

"Be honest, Ell. Do you really think Den or your parents stand a chance of defying the Tairen Soul? What's to stop him from just breathing a little tairen flame on Den? Problem solved. Betrothal broken”

The same thought had occurred to Ellysetta earlier, when Papa had told her that he would not break the betrothal. She'd instantly dismissed it, though the possibility still nagged at her. "He wouldn't do that. That's not honorable.”

"And flaming millions of people was?”

It always came back to that whenever Selianne and Ellie discussed Rain Tairen Soul or the Fey. It was the one constant bone of contention in an otherwise flawless friendship.

"That was war, and the Mages had just killed his mate. He went mad for a while from a documented Fey phenomenon called the Wilding Rage. Gaelen vel Serranis experienced the same thing when his sister was murdered. We've had this discussion a hundred times.”

"It was murder, Ellie. In both cases. No matter how you try to pretty it up.”

"It was vengeance. The Eld murdered Gaelen's sister—that was true murder. She'd done nothing to provoke them. The Eld murdered Sariel—an unarmed woman healing the wounded on a battlefield—hoping to destroy Rain Tairen Soul. Well, in both cases, the Eld got more than they bargained for, didn't they?" She rubbed at the tension in her neck and arms again.

"You've never liked hearing anyone speak ill of the Fey, especially not Rain Tairen Soul." Selianne eyed her intently. "Aren't you even the least bit afraid of him?”

"Of course I am. Who wouldn't be? He's the man who scorched the world. But, Selianne, when he held me in his arms this morning and said those things to me … I could have died right then and been happy. I've never felt so … at peace, so loved.”

"It was probably Fey magic—a glamour of some kind.”

"I know that. But, Sel, if you'd felt it … part of me thinks I would do just about anything to feel that way again. Even if it was a lie”

"I don't like the sound of that, Ellie. You've never wanted a pleasant lie over a hard truth. Never." Selianne gripped El- lie's hands, squeezing tight. "Don't let them control your mind.”

Ellie smiled and shook her head. "I can assure you no one's controlling my mind. Part of me may want Fey-perfect love, even if it's an illusion, but most of me is still firmly grounded in common sense. In fact, I keep waiting for Rain Tairen Soul to come back and tell me he made a mistake in claiming me, and would I please just forget the whole thing." She laughed.

Selianne didn't laugh with her. "I'm worried for you, Ellie. Maybe your mother's right. Maybe you're better off marrying Den—or even old Master Weazman." She cast a glance over her shoulder at the five Fey standing near the wing's entrance. "Handsome as they are, I'd never want anything to do with them.”

Ellie didn't answer. The sensation she'd mistaken for tension was now a tingling in her skin, an odd awareness that grew stronger by the second. She lifted her head. "He's coming.”

"He? He who?”

"Rain Tairen Soul.”

"He's coming?" Selianne squeaked. "Here? Now?”

"Yes." She
felt
him, felt the hunger and longing rise up within her in response to his nearness. The sensations were frightening and compelling all at once. "He's here.”

Fresh panic flooded Selianne's eyes. "Ellie, the Tairen Soul hasn’t sworn any vow against mind reading, has he?" Ellie shook her head. "Bright Lord save me; that's what I thought. If he picks my brain and discovers the truth, he might decide to flame me instead of just Den." She snatched up her shawl from the bench and hugged Ellie in a quick, fierce embrace. "I've got to go. Take care, dear friend." She hurried away, heading for the rear exit of the Fey wing to avoid the approaching Fey King.

Ellie saw her cast one last, frantic look over her shoulder and freeze in her tracks, but even without that, Ellie would have known that Rain Tairen Soul had walked into the room. The shields Belliard had built dissolved. Ellie could hear the clap of Rain's boots against the marble floor as he walked towards her, but it was the way her skin felt flushed and the blood raced through her veins that told her he was near.

She turned to face him. Everything about him called to every one of her senses, leaving her as giddy as an adolescent girl mooning over a handsome boy. His luminescent Fey skin shone against the blackness of his leathers. His eyes glowed with power, and Ellie saw his gaze flick from her to Selianne.

Worried that he would do just as Selianne feared—probe her mind and discover her heritage—Ellie stepped directly into his line of vision, drawing his attention away from her friend. "You're here. How did you know where to find us?" She heard the sound of racing footsteps as Selianne took advantage of the Tairen Soul's distraction and ran away.

The Feyreisen's fierce gaze pinned Ellie in place. "Bel told me. But even if he had not, I would always be able to find you,
shei'tani."
Anger rolled over her in waves. "You should not have attempted to leave the house without guard. You will not do so again.”

Though his anger frightened her, the barked command made her spine go poker straight. "I'm not your prisoner. You have no right to order me to do anything. I've gone for walks in the night many times in the past and never come to harm.”

"You weren't the Feyreisa before now. While the Mages may have overlooked Ellysetta Baristani, the woodcarver's daughter, believe me they will not overlook Ellysetta Baristani, the Tairen Soul's mate.”

Ellie swallowed. He sounded so certain, so ominous. "Maybe what you say would be true if there were Mages in Celieria, but there are none. There haven't been since the Mage Wars. They were banned a thousand years ago”

His lips pulled back in a small snarl. "And do you really think they've stayed away all this time? They are cunning adversaries, patient and powerful." He advanced on her, and she backed up nervously. "You can be certain they know about you by now, and they're already plotting to capture or kill you.”

Ellie's heart pounded in her chest, beating with sudden fear. She told herself that since he'd claimed her as his true- mate, he couldn't possibly harm her, but that didn't seem to matter much. The way he looked right now, it wasn't hard to imagine
him
killing her.

"Aiyah,
you should be afraid. Perhaps fear will stop you from acting foolishly.”

She turned to run, but only managed half a dozen steps before he caught her wrist.

"Nei,
Ellysetta. You will not run from me. You will …" His voice broke off, his attention captured by something just beyond her shoulder. Sorrow washed over her, deep and heartrending. The emotions were his, but she felt them as clearly as if they were her own.

She turned to follow his gaze, and her breath stalled. She had unwittingly run straight for the one room in the museum where she spent most of her time—the exhibit dedicated to the scorching of the world.

More than twenty oil paintings circled the room, vivid canvases painted by Celieria's greatest masters, all depicting the tragic story of Rain and Sariel and the fiery aftermath of her death. Dominating the room was Fabrizio Chelan's masterpiece,
Death of the Beloved.

The look on Rain's face as he regarded the great master's most famous work would have made her heart ache even without the stunned, breathless pain radiating from him. Tears filled her eyes. For the first time, she didn't find the famous painting tragically romantic or tragically beautiful. For the first time, she found it only tragic.

He released her hand, and the terrible rawness of his grief faded. "Her death was nothing like that," he murmured. His gaze remained fixed on the central figures captured forever through Chelan's unsurpassed mastery of composition, color, and perspective.

"How do you mean?”

"I never got to hold her like that for the last time. They drew me away from her as part of their ambush, then attacked her to destroy me. She was badly burned. The Elden Mages cut off her head so she could not be healed. I was in the air when I felt her die, and the Rage took me then. I don't remember much after that, but they tell me I incinerated the entire battlefield in mere chimes. There was nothing left of her to hold when I finally came back to sanity." He reached up a hand as if to touch the painted image of his dead mate, then pulled back when sparks flashed from the protective weave. He stood there, staring at the image of Sariel in a dramatic, beautiful death swoon, her cheeks still rosy, unscorched, and glimmering with Fey luminescence, clutched in the arms of the mate who should have been at her side protecting her but had not. "She died alone, at the hands of an Elden Mage.”

The pain of Rain's loss squeezed Ellie's heart. Her throat went tight and tears burned at the backs of her eyes. "I'm so sorry. I know you loved her.”

"It was a long time ago." He frowned at Sariel's image. "That isn't even a very good likeness of her.”

Ellie gave a choked sound that was half laugh, half sob. This painting was one of the most famous masterpieces in all of Celierian history, and yet Rain Tairen Soul declared the image to be not only wholly false but a poor likeness as well.

"In a way, it is good to see this painting and remember," he continued. "That you loved her?”

"Nei.
That I failed her. My first duty was to protect my mate, and I did not. It will not happen again." His expression hardened and he turned to face her. "Which is why you will never again attempt to leave your home unescorted.”