Lady of Light and Shadows (12 page)

The goblet of pinalle in the Great Lord's hand trembled, and sweet blue wine splashed over the rim to run, unnoticed, in rivulets over his shaking hand. His face turned pale beneath its tan. He had not known. Suspected, perhaps, but not with certainty.

Rain felt sorry for the man. The news was clearly a terrible blow.
«I will not risk the safety of our women by sending them far from the Faering Mists, but if you bring your wife to the Garreval, I will arrange for our healers to tend her there.
»

«If I grant you my vote.
»
The response was a thought unbacked by power but easily read.

«I
would be lying to say that did not cross my mind,»
Rain said,
abut nei, this a Fey gift, offered freely as a gesture of our goodwill, no matter how you cast your vote. I will post a quintet at the Garreval to wait for you. You have two months from today to bring your wife to them. If it is within the power of our healers to cure her, they will do so.»

The border lord's lips moved, forming a single word. «
Why?
»

«Just bring her,»
Rain answered brusquely,
«and do not delay. If you do not come within two months' time, we will assume you have declined our offer. The quintet will return to the Fading Lands and your wife will live or die as the gods see fit.»

Ellysetta sat on her windowsill, looking up at the waning Mother and Daughter moons as they crawled across the night sky. Within the visibly shimmering twenty-five-fold weave surrounding the house, the world seemed utterly tranquil, yet tension still coiled inside her. The house was quiet. Mama and Papa had turned in earlier, and though Ellie could feel the press of weariness urging her to bed, she was afraid to sleep. What if she dreamed again? What if she dreamed worse than she had last night?

Bel had assured her that the twenty-five-fold weaves would keep out all known magical attacks, but her disquiet would not settle. Last night, the Shadow Man had found her. Who knew what terrors he might now unleash? Behind her, three lit candle-lamps cast bright circles of golden light around the room, chasing shadows to the darkest corners, but the flickering lights offered little in the way of reassurance.

Was it her imagination, or had the room grown colder? Ellie shivered and pulled the knitted shawl closer around her shoulders.

Suddenly her entire body went tense. What was that moving in the courtyard? She cupped her hands around her eyes and peered through the window, then sat back with a groan as she realized it was only Kieran, practicing his bladework in the moonlight.

"Oh, for the Haven's sake, Ellysetta, you're being ridiculous." She scrubbed her hands over her face and jumped to her feet, snatching up the heavy volume of Tarr's
History of Celierian Noble Houses
from the pile of books on her nightstand. After Master Fellows's lessons on the peerage this afternoon, she'd had Bel escort her to the library to fetch a selection of books that she hoped would help her build a better rapport with the nobles next time she met them. Since she wasn't getting any sleep tonight, the least she could do was spend the time doing something productive.

Crawling into bed, she propped the pillows up behind her, set the heavy book on her thighs, and began to read about the exploits and achievements of the past lords and ladies of Celieria. Unfortunately, Tarr's writing style, while a perfection of detailed accuracy, was lamentably dry. Triumphant victories-dizzying, incredible feats that had left her breathless when she'd read about them in volumes of Fey poetry-became about as vivid and engrossing as watching plaster set when recounted by the erudite scholar Master Tarr.

She persevered, determined to become an asset rather than a liability to Rain, and hoping to take her mind off her fears. Perhaps if Tarr had been a more engrossing writer, it would have worked. As it was, she jumped at each rattle of the windowpanes and creak of a floorboard, and every flicker of a shadow on her bedroom walls made her heart pound with fear. Halfway through chapter five, "The History of Great House Orly," a noise outside brought her rigidly alert. She stifled a scream as a shadow passed over her window.

"Shei‘tani?"
Rain stood on the small patch of shingled roof outside her window. Glowing green threads of Earth spun out from his fingertips and her window swung inward. Fresh night air, crisp with the scent of magic, wafted in on a cool breeze. He leapt with graceful catlike ease over the windowsill and landed without a sound in the center of her room.

Ellie clutched a hand to her throat, feeling the rapid beat of her heart beneath her fingertips. "What are you doing here?" She set her heavy book on the nightstand beside her. "I thought you were with Lord Teleos this evening.”

"Bel told me you were still awake, so I left early." Two steps brought him to her side and he caught her hands in his, lifting them to his lips. "Fly with me,
shei’tani?”

His long dark hair spilled over his shoulders, and his Fey-pale skin shone against the inky blackness of his leathers. Her heart pounded faster, but this time not from fear. Would there ever come a day when the sight of him did not leave her breathless?

Without hesitation, she went. Out the window, up to the rooftop, without a care for her bare feet or nightgown, she followed him.

"Trust me?" he asked when they stood on the crest of the roof, looking out over the sleeping city.

She answered without hesitation. "Of course.”

He smiled and it was as if clouds parted before the sun. His teeth gleamed dazzling white, and his perfect masculine beauty softened to stunning appeal. When Rain smiled, even Light-maidens would weep with joy.

He drew her to him and his mouth covered hers in a long, sweet, melting kiss that made her legs fold beneath her and her hands clutch the broad strength of his shoulders to keep from falling. He laughed softly against her skin and tracked kisses up her jaw to her ear, then whispered in a voice of pure enchantment, "Don't be afraid." That was all the warning she received before he flung her skyward.

She soared up as if she were weightless, spiraling on a column of Air, breathless but unafraid. The twenty-five-fold weaves surrounding the Baristani house peeled back before her like the petals of a blossoming flower. Her arms flung out, and she turned her face up to the sky, letting Rain's magic carry her as high as it would. As she reached the apex of her ascent and began to gently fall back to earth, Rain's tairen form rose up beneath her and she landed neatly in the cradle of the saddle.

Magic spun around her in velvety clouds, and when it cleared, she looked down and laughed in delight. He'd changed her cotton nightgown to long, flowing robes that looked as if he'd woven them from starlight. Each whisper of movement made the cloth shimmer and gleam.

«I was feeling romantic,»
Rain said with a chuff of tairen laughter.
«Hold on.»

Ellie's hands gripped the pommel as his wings spread wide. Together, they soared skyward, into the dark heavens.

They flew for nearly a bell, for no purpose except the joy of flight, soaking in the silent beauty of the night, basking in the silver light of the Mother and Daughter moons. They skimmed effortlessly across the moonlit waters of Great Bay, dipping down so low Rain's wingtips slapped the water, leaving a symmetric trail of rippling circles behind them. They soared across the rolling vineyards on the north coast and over the dark, forested hills. They flew until the restlessness deep inside Ellysetta faded into peace and her fear of nightfall was a forgotten memory.

By the time they returned to the house, the moons had already passed their zenith. Rain landed lightly on the roof, but when he started to escort her back down to her bedroom window, she stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

"Would you mind very much if we stayed up here for a while?”

"Here, on the roof?" She nodded, and he shrugged. "Of course, if you like”

She sat on the steeply angled roof and leaned her head back to look up at the stars. They seemed so much farther away now than they had while flying, and the shimmering glow of the Fey's protective weaves dimmed some of the fainter stars from view. "I've spent many nights up here since I was a child, staring up at the stars, dreaming. It always seemed so peaceful.”

He sat beside her. "What sort of things did you dream of?”

"Oh, what most young girls do, I imagine. Fey tales. True love." She gave a small, self-conscious laugh. "You.”

"Good dreams, I hope." His thumb brushed lightly across her lower lip.

"Of course." Her voice came out breathless, just as it always did when Rain's eyes looked at her that way. Selianne would likely call it sorcery, but Ellie knew it was simple, besotted love. She drew a deep breath and tried to settle herself. "How did the dinner with Lord Teleos go?”

"Not bad." He told her about the assembly of nobles Teleos had gathered, and about the warm reception he'd received from several of the married couples. She blushed furiously but couldn't help a sigh of relief to learn that not everyone considered her weave a disaster.

When he told her about Lady Darramon's illness and the offer he'd made to heal her, Ellie's heart turned over. "Poor Lady Darramon," she said. "Poor
Lord
Darramon. I'm glad you didn't use her illness to try to win his vote.”

"It was probably a mistake.”

"Kindness is never a mistake, Rain.”

His lips curved in an expression that seemed more grimace than smile. "That should be true,
shei’tani,
but when it comes to mortal politics, good deeds are rarely rewarded.”

Her head cocked to one side. When it came to mortals, especially noble mortals, he was so cynical. "If you believe that, why didn't you do what Lord Dax suggested?”

Rather than answering, Rain drew his knees up and began twisting the large Tairen's Eye signet on his hand, watching moonlight set off a shimmering rainbow within the crystal's dark ruby depths.

"Rain?" His hesitance surprised her. She leaned over to lay a hand on his arm. Beneath the warm, supple leather, his bicep felt smooth and hard as river rock.

"I thought about it," he admitted in a low voice. "Darramon is a powerful Great Lord. We could have used him to secure another dozen votes at least. He would have paid any price to save his wife. His thoughts in that regard were too obvious to miss.”

"So why did you offer to heal his wife without price?”

Glowing lavender eyes caught hers in an unbreakable gaze. "Because if you were the one dying, I would want someone to offer the same gift to me.”

Ellysetta's breath caught in her throat. He'd never told her he loved her, never said the words. But his gift to Lord Darramon came as close to that declaration as she could imagine. It gave her hope that one day, the words would follow.

"You did the right thing, Rain," she assured him softly. "Love should never be used as a weapon.”

He kissed her, a long, lingering kiss that combined intoxicating passion with exquisite tenderness, then leaned back against the angled roof, pulling her down with him. She lay upon his chest and listened to the beat of his heart while his fingers stroked through her hair.

"Rain ... what will happen to you when I die?”

Black brows drew together in a sudden fierce scowl. "You will not die,
shei’tani. I
will not allow it.”

She propped her chin on her hands and looked down into his face. "I don't necessarily mean killed-though after these last few days, neither of us can rule out that possibility. I mean die. Even if I'm only part-mortal like Lord Teleos, eventually I
will
die." She recalled what Rain had told her that first night of his claiming, when he'd followed her to Celieria's National Museum of Art.
If the Eld managed to kill you, I should not survive it.
At the time, she'd only considered the consequences of an unexpected, violent death, but talking about Lady Darramon reminded her that, like it or not, all mortal lives ended.

"Ah." The aggression faded from his expression. He reached out to brush a curl from her cheek. "Don't worry about that, Ellysetta. Neither time nor sickness will ever claim your life unless you wish it.”

Her eyes widened. "You can grant immortality?”

He shook his head. "The Fey are not truly `immortal.' We die just like men if we receive a grievous wound and cannot be healed in time. What we are, more specifically, is eternally in our prime, untouched by age or infirmity. Our bodies have a natural ability to constantly heal themselves. It is why we do not age after reaching maturity, and why we do not scar. Here, watch.”

Sitting up, he took a black Fey'cha from his chest straps and lightly scored the back of his hand. She stifled a cry of protest at the thin red line of blood that welled up in the wake of the blade's point, but when Rain wiped the blood away, she could see the skin had already mended.

Ellysetta reached for his hand, stroking the unmarked skin as she followed Rain's revelation to its obvious conclusion. "Fey
shei'dalins
are expert healers.”

"Aiyah,
they can perform for mortals what nature does for the Fey.”

"Why have I never heard of that before?”

He shrugged. "It is a gift we have long worked to hide from the world. Too many ancient Fey texts in our Hall of Scrolls tell of
shei'dalins
enslaved and tortured by despots who demanded everlasting life. It is one of many reasons we guard our women so fiercely.”