King of Sword and Sky (15 page)

Halfway hoping the knowledge would make her change her mind about blessing the
rasa,
Rain spread his hands and gave her the blunt truth.
"Shei'tanitsa
bond cannot form where any other holds sway. Tajik, Bel, and Gaelen have bloodsworn their souls to your service. That vow is binding in this life and the death that follows, which means there can be no
shei'tanitsa
bond for them until they are born again. A truemate's heart cannot be divided."

She swallowed and turned horrified eyes towards Bel, Gaelen, and Tajik. "You knew this, yet still you bloodswore yourselves to me? Why would you do such a thing?"

"Ellysetta,
kem'falla,
this is no burden," Bel said. "You restored our souls. Of course we pledged them to your service."

"But to give up any chance of a truemate of your own…"

"In this life only,
kem'falla,"
Gaelen said. "We will be born to live again. Until then, we are free to accept love if we find it. The bonds of
e'tanitsa
are no less worthy and no less welcome to a Fey's heart, and for a warrior who has lived centuries unable to touch a
fellana
without causing her pain, even
e'tanitsa
love is a blessing beyond measure."

"But—"

"All great gifts come with a price,
kem'falla,"
Gaelen said. "All choices come with consequence. And all Fey accept that."

"All men of honor, at least," Tajik said, giving Gaelen a pointed look. Gaelen's eyes narrowed.

Ignoring him, the Fey general cast out a hand towards the silvery white walls of Chakai on the other side of Taloth'Liera. "The
rasa
sleep there,
kem'Feyreisa.
If you still wish to bless them, I would ask you to begin with a particular two."

"I…" Ellysetta hesitated. She had never considered what cost her actions would have on the men she blessed. She'd thought only to stop their pain. And, all right, yes, some vain part of her liked seeing the wonder and joy on the warriors' faces when they realized the torment of all the lives they'd taken was gone. But how could she offer such healing now, knowing what price they would feel compelled to pay?

"I don't want to rob them of their hope for a truemate. It's bad enough I did that to you three without knowing it."

"Do not berate yourself for healing our souls, Ellysetta," Bel said. "The Fey number a mere forty thousand. If there were truemates to be had for us, we already would have found them."

"Yet Rain found me, and Adrial found Talisa," she pointed out. Though the ill-fated truemating of Air master Adrial vel Arquinas to Great Lord Cannevar Barrial's married daughter could only end badly—King Dorian had upheld the marriage rights of Talisa's husband, so Adrial could not claim her—Talisa Barrial diSebourne's mortal-born soul had nonetheless called a Fey's. "There could be more truemates in Celieria just waiting for their Fey to find them."

"The odds are unlikely, Ellysetta," Bel said gently. "How many other Celierian women descend from both Fey and Elvish blood, as she does?
Nei,
the
rasa
have already lost all but the smallest flicker of hope. Most of them will perish before their next battle's end—they are that close to shadow."

Rain shifted restlessly, and a low growl rumbled in his throat. "Which will in no way reflect on Ellysetta," he said, giving Bel a hard look. "The
rasa
live and die by the gods' decree, as they always have." He gripped Ellysetta's shoulders.
"Shei'tani,
if you are having doubts, then do not do this. The Eye of Truth said your purpose was to save the tairen; it said nothing about restoring light to the
rasa.
If the pain of their presence disturbs you too much, we can leave for Fey'Bahren now, without delay."

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and troubled. "Is Bel right? Will those men die if I don't heal them?"

Right at that moment, Rain could cheerfully have put his hands around his best friend's throat and squeezed until his eyes popped. «
Bel, my brother, what flaming maggot in your brain possessed you to tell her that?»

«I should have let her think she's stolen our hope instead?»
Outrage colored Bel's voice. «
What she can do is a miracle sent from the gods. I won't let her berate herself for it. Besides, you know as well as I do how many of the rasa cling to honor by the merest thread.»

«You are supposed to protect her from pain, not encourage her to embrace it!»

«And which do you think will be worse? The pain of knowing the rasa will have no truemates in this life, or the pain of knowing they chose sheisan'dahlein or slipped down the Dark Path when she could have healed them and did not?»

"Rain?" Ellysetta shook herself free of his grip and frowned up at him. "Answer me. Will the
rasa
die in the next battle if I don't heal them?"

His lips drew back, baring clenched teeth. He wished he could lie. He would lie to her now, if he could. But he was Fey, and Fey did not lie. "They live here, far from other Fey, because the shadow lies so dark upon them. If war comes, they will not survive it. At least not as Fey."

The admission hit her like a blow. She flinched and her face went pale. Then she caught herself, and Rain saw the reaction he'd been dreading. Her slender spine went stiff and straight. Her shoulders squared. Her jaw clenched, then lifted with a determined tilt. The small, now-familiar gestures made him want to shred things, starting with Bel and Gaelen.

Ellysetta Feyreisa had made her choice.

"Take me to the
rasa."

When Rain held out his wrist so she could put her hand upon it, she looked startled.

"You don't need to come with us, Rain. You've already said it will be too difficult for you."

Only then did he realize how little she understood. "I am your
shei'tan,
Ellysetta. What choices you make, you make for both of us."

The
rasa,
when they heard the reason Ellysetta had come, were horrified. Like Tajik, they refused to let her touch them at first, unwilling to inflict their pain upon her, until Tajik rounded up two grim-eyed Fey and hauled them to the front of the warriors' barracks to stand before Ellysetta. They were the oldest of the
rasa,
warriors the same age as Bel and Tajik, and they well remembered the destruction of the Mage Wars.

"The Mages have returned," Tajik told them, "and war will soon be upon us. The Fading Lands will need all her sons. The Feyreisa can heal your soul so you may live and fight like a Fey whose steel has yet to taste its first enemy's blood." On the Warriors' Path, he added, «
I know it is hard, but accept this gift, my brothers, so we may live and fight together as once we did.»
With grim ferocity, he added, «
I
need you with me, beyond the first battle, to drench the earth in Mage blood and avenge the deaths of those we loved.»

«Mages?
You are certain?»
The question came from Gillandaris vel Jendahr, a white-blond, black-eyed Fey who was a scorching artist of death with his blades. He'd lost both parents, two brothers, and a beloved
shei'dalin
niece to the Elden Mages. Not even a thousand years had been enough to dull the pain of so great a wound.

«Bel swears it. Three of them attacked the Feyreisa last week.»

Gil's jaw clenched, and power sparked like stars in his midnight eyes. He dropped to one knee before the Feyreisa and offered her his hands. "May it please the gods, Feyreisa, I accept your offer of healing, that I may defend the Fading Lands and avenge the deaths of those I loved."

"What is your name?" Ellysetta asked.

He tossed back his head, sending white-blond hair rippling across his black leathers. "I am Gillandaris vel Jendahr, Master of Air and Earth and Fire, fourth-level talent in Water and Spirit, friend and blade brother of Tajik vel Sibboreh, and former
chadin
of the great Shannisorran v'En Celay." He sent a cool glance in Gaelen's direction.

"If I restore your soul, Ser vel Jendahr, will you promise not to bloodswear yourself to me in payment? Will you accept my gift as just that—a gift, freely given?"

Gil's brows drew together.
"Lute'asheiva
is a warrior's right, not a gift for a
shei'dalin
to allow or deny, no matter her reasons." Gil had never been a Fey to softpaw around anyone or any subject. He was all warrior, steel strong, blade sharp, fierce in his beliefs and his willingness to defend them.
"Nei,
I make no such vow."

The Feyreisa's spine stiffened, and for a moment, Tajik thought she might refuse to share her gift. But then her eyes flashed and she reached out to seize Gil's hands in a tight grip. Gil's mouth opened in a soundless gasp. Light blazed around the Feyreisa, enveloping them both. Bel, Gaelen, and Rain all swore and stepped forward to lend her their strength, but before they could get close enough, Gil gave a hoarse cry. The light flared with sudden brightness, then winked out. Gil was shaking, and the Feyreisa looked shocked and unhappy.

"What… ? Is that it?" Tajik frowned. Had she chosen not to heal Gil's soul after all? "Feyreisa, he is a good man. An honorable warrior, one whose death would be a loss to us all.
Teska,
heal him that he may defend the Fading Lands for another thousand years to come."

A voice, hoarse and disbelieving, said quietly, "She did." Without taking his stunned eyes from hers, Gil reached for his Fey'cha, pulled black from its protective sheath, and slit his palm on the trembling blade. The words of
lute'asheiva
spilled from his lips in a torrent. Rain, Tajik, Bel, and Gaelen called witness, and with grim acceptance, the Feyreisa took the bloodsworn blade from Gil's hand.

"I do not want this," she said.

"It is yours all the same,
kem'falla."

"I was angry, and I was not kind." She looked up from the blade and met his eyes, dark misery in her own. "I hurt you.
Sieks'ta.
I should have used more care."

Gil rose to his feet, his white-blond head towering over hers by two handspans. "A buzzfly sting,
kem'falla.
Gone almost before I felt it." The corner of his mouth kicked up. "I suppose I deserved it for defying you. I should have remembered tairen do not take insolence kindly."

"Aiyah,
you should have," the Tairen Soul agreed, his voice a low rumble of sound. He laid a hand on the Feyreisa's shoulder, and when she turned to look up at him, his face bore an expression of such fierce devotion, Tajik felt his own chest grow tight. Once he had dreamed of finding a woman in whose eyes he would see the Great Sun rise and set, a woman whose soul would call to his. He no longer hoped for that in this life, but now, he did dare once more to pray for such a miracle in his next.

Rain sent flows of tairen song to Ellysetta, the melody vibrant with reassurance and pride as it rippled along the threads of their bond. «
You restored Gil's soul, shei'tani. I can see you are troubled, but there is no need. Look at him. He is unharmed.»

«Is he?"»
She looked up, her eyes filled with worry. «
I'm not so sure. I'm not sure I'm all right, for that matter.»

«What do you mean?»

«I mean it didn't feel right, what I just did to Gil. I was angry, Rain.»
She bit her lip. «
He defied me and I didn't like it. I think some part of me actually meant to hurt him.»

She shifted in Rain's embrace, as if she intended to pull away, but he would not release her. «
Las, Ellysetta. Does he look hurt? Nei, because he is not. He challenged your authority. You showed him your claws. It is the tairen way.»

«Nei, it's more than that. The weave felt wrong. Like a sweetness gone sour. It reminded me of when the High Mage set his Mark upon me.»

«You are imagining things.»
He scowled at her, not liking the implication that any part of her magic was similar to the black arts practiced by the High Mage.

«Am I? Rain, you know part of him is in me, and you know night is the time when I feel it most. What if he's using the Marks he put on me to…change me?»
More than anything, she feared the evil High Mage would use those Mage Marks to corrupt her soul and destroy the Fey. «
What if the power I just used on Gil came from him…the Mage?»

«Ellysetta, look around you. You're surrounded by the oldest, most experienced warriors of the Fey. If anything in your weave was like Eld magic, these warriors would have felt it.»
He reached out to brush a tumbling lock of hair from her face. «
You didn't hurt Gil; you restored his soul. Don't misunderstand. I'm not happy that you've chosen to heal the rasa
—
and I'm certainly not encouraging you to continue
—
but I won't let you see Mages every time the tairen shows its fangs.»

She drew a breath, and he could see her almost visibly pulling a veil of calm around her emotions. «
Bas'ka,»
she said. «
Perhaps you're right.»

He smiled and bent to kiss the worry from her face. His song sang notes of confidence and reassurance until the tension in her shoulders melted and she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

Behind them, Tajik cleared his throat.
"Kem'falla,
may it please you, this next fine warrior of the Fey is Rijonn vel Ahrimor, my oldest and dearest friend. He and I were cradle friends, and
chadins
together in Tehlas. He is one of the strongest Earth masters ever born to the Fey."