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Authors: C. L. Wilson

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BOOK: Lady of Light and Shadows
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Garlie didn't understand. No one did. The Fey gold paid to break the betrothal belonged to Den's pa, not to him. And Den was tired of being his father's lackey. Ellie and the money he planned to earn with her magic were Den's chance for a personal fortune all his own.

But this wasn't even about the money anymore. Now it was about pride and respect and victory. Rainier vel'En Daris had stolen something that belonged to Den. Every sewer rat in the West End knew if he dared steal so much as a crust of bread from Den Brodson, Den would chase the thief down and stomp his jaffing liver out. And that went for honey-tongued Sorrelian sea captains, too. Den Brodson was no pinchpocket's mark.

It was time for some action.

Den shoved open the doors of the Inn of the Blue Pony and stalked inside. After a curt consultation with the innkeeper, he made his way to one of the private dining rooms down the back hallway and rapped twice on the door before opening it. The now-familiar face of Captain Batay smiled from across a scarred wooden table. A partially eaten meal sat before him. He was drinking from a glass filled with bloodred wine.

"Ah, Goodman Brodson, please come in." Captain Batay set his wineglass on the table and waved Den in.

Den hesitated. One look from the Sorrelian captain, and every ounce of Den's righteous fury evaporated as ice ran down his spine. He stood there, shocked and confused, trying to banish the fear that suddenly clung to the back of his neck.

What the flaming Hells was wrong with him? Batay's smile held nothing but welcome. His vivid blue-green eyes contained craftiness, to be sure, but if the captain were not a crafty man, he would be little help to Den in his efforts to reclaim his wayward bride. Still, Den couldn't quite stop himself from glancing over his shoulder as he stepped into the inn's private dining room and closed the door.

"The innkeeper said you'd come by last night looking for me and that you'd received the note I left for you," Batay said as Den drew near. "Did you bring what I asked for?”

Despite every one of his earlier intentions to set the tone of this meeting and claim a position of power, Den found himself approaching the dining table like a supplicant and meekly pulling the small wooden music box from his pocket. The box had two paste jewels embedded in its carved top and played a tinny rendition of the overture from the symphony
Rainier's Song.
Den had thought the tune ironically appropriate.

"Excellent," the captain said. "That will do nicely." He held out a hand, and Den gave him the music box.

"What makes you think she's even going to open the gift?" Den asked.

"She will, I assure you. She will feel compelled to open it." The Sorrelian reached into his coat pocket and withdrew an empty glass vial.

"If it even reaches her to begin with," Den said. "It's not like those Fey are going to let me give her anything.”

Captain Batay placed the vial on the table and reached underneath his coat. "When the gift is ready, I will make arrangements for it to be delivered.”

Den shrank back as the Sorrelian drew a long, wicked-looking black dagger from the sheath at his side. The double-edged blade was narrow and wavy, the long hilt tightly wrapped with black and red silk cords. A large black jewel clutched in golden prongs glittered in the pommel.

"What's that for?" Den asked in a voice that cracked. "Relax, Goodman Brodson. I just need a little of your blood.”

"Why?”

"So many questions. You weren't so curious when I first offered my help.”

"You weren't asking for my blood then.”

"But now I am." Captain Batay smiled. "Just a drop or two."

"And if I say no?”

"Then I'm afraid our association is at an end. The door is there." He pointed. "Close it behind you on your way out." He set the knife down on the table and returned the empty vial to his pocket. The captain raised his glass, drank deep of the ruby wine, and raised his brows when Den remained where he was. "If you want to free your bride from the Tairen Soul, Goodman, you may stay. But the price for staying is your blood.”

Den thought of Ellysetta's abilities, of the riches that would be his. Of the wealth, the power. Of the satisfaction that would come from beating the arrogant Tairen Soul at his own game. The demon-souled Fey sorcerer had stolen Den's prize. Den was going to steal her back.

"Just a drop or two?”

"That's all I require.”

Den held out his hand.

The second of Ellysetta's six devotions passed with surprising calm, and though Ellysetta wouldn't exactly say the cathedral was overflowing with happiness, there was at least a certain level of acceptance instead of the dread and disapproval that had hung over yesterday's initial service. Greatfather Tivrest conducted the devotions in a sober, sonorous voice. When they were done, Mama and Selianne left together-without Fey escort-to visit Madame Binchi's shop on Queen's Street for their dress fittings, while the Fey escorted Ellysetta back home.

Bel and the rest of Ellysetta's primary quintet were there waiting, looking worse than she'd ever seen them, and the brief lightening of her spirits she'd enjoyed after sharing Selianne's company faded in an instant.

"I'm so sorry," she told Bel miserably when Ravel's quintet had departed. She felt near tears at the sight of the five warriors who'd become such dear friends. They looked so weary and wan, and she'd done that to them. She and her weave. "I swear I didn't mean to do it.”

Bel only shook his head and smiled gently.
"Las, kem'falla,
we know that." Far more forgiveness than she deserved shone from his cobalt eyes. "Your magic is awakening, and that is never a tidy process.”

"Bel is right, Feyreisa," Kieran said, smiling as he glanced down at the tiny white kitten perched on his shoulder. Love had decided that Kieran's shoulder was a much more comforting place than her hideout under the icebox. She stuck out her chin for a scratch and regarded the Fey Earth master with a look of pure feline adoration. Her stubby tail flicked his ear, her tiny claws curled into his leathers to secure her place, and despite the powerful magic shields still in place around the house, she was purring so loudly, Ellie could hear her all the way across the room. "You are not to blame in any way.”

"Aiyah,"
Kiel agreed. "Besides, no one was hurt, and no real harm was done.”

"I'll wager there's many a man who'd pay for such ... invigoration," Rowan pitched in helpfully, "if you catch my meaning." He grinned. Rowan had a sense of humor that Ellysetta was coming to realize was pure mischief. He was the kind who would poke monsters with a stick and laugh when they roared. "In fact," he added, "our lads Kieran and Adrial started a few new Fey legends in the brothel district last night.”

"Kieran Blue Eyes, they called him," Kiel said, sidling up to Kieran's side and giving him a simpering, syrupy look of adoration. "One look had them swooning.”

Kieran flashed his charming smile, fluttered his now-famous blue eyes, and caught Kiel when he pretended to faint. Love, unamused, swatted at the blond Fey.

"And baby brother was Adrial the Unstoppable," Rowan added proudly. "He had them swooning, too, but for a different reason." The Fey waggled his brows and grinned again with wicked, roguish humor.

Ellysetta covered her blazing cheeks with her hands and sank weakly on the arm of a settee. "This is not helping." She couldn't believe they were laughing about what she'd done. She didn't find anything funny about it at all.

Adrial apparently didn't either. Instead of laughing with the other Fey, he had retreated to the other side of the room and stood there, staring into space and trembling as if some great emotion gripped him.

"Adrial?" Concerned, she went to him. His Fey-pale skin was even whiter than the others', his brown eyes dilated and unfocused. She reached up and pressed a hand to his forehead. His skin felt clammy, and she gasped as blinding despair battered her senses. Adrial lurched away from her, and the emotion faded.

"Don't touch me." His voice was weak, thready.

Ellie was aware of the sudden alertness of the other Fey warriors in the room, but she ignored them, focusing her attention on Adrial. "You're ill," she said. "You should be in bed.”

"Nei."
He rubbed his face with trembling hands. "I'm all right. I'll be fine”

"Adrial. Little brother." Rowan approached. His laughter was gone, replaced by worry. "Listen to the Feyreisa." He reached out to grasp his brother's arms, but Adrial threw him off.

"Nei."
White sparks flashed in Adrial's eyes. "Don't touch me, Rowan. I said I'm fine.”

Love the kitten hissed furiously, jumped off Kieran's shoulder and went racing for the kitchen. A globe of light sprang up around Ellysetta as Bel, Kiel, Kieran, and the five warriors of her secondary quintet leapt forward to surround her.

"Then why are you summoning Air?" Kieran asked.

Adrial frowned. "I ..." The sparks in his eyes faded. "Was I?" He pressed the heels of his palms to his temples and squeezed his eyes shut. "Perhaps I should lie down." He allowed Rowan to lead him to the couch.

"Talk to me, Adrial," Rowan urged. "You've blocked me out. I can't reach you with Spirit. You must talk to me." He spared a brief, fierce look at Bel. "We need Marissya.”

Bel nodded, and his eyes lost focus as he reached across distance with a weave of Spirit. He was calling Marissya. "She comes," he said a moment later.

«Shei’tani.»
Rain's voice sounded in Ellie's mind, strong and clear, but with an underlying tone of concern. «
We are on our way. Stay away from Adrial.»

Stay away? She looked at Adrial and bit her lip. But he was in such pain. Her every instinct demanded that she help him. She stepped towards Adrial, only to find her way blocked by Belliard.

"Nei,
Ellysetta. You must not defy the Feyreisen on this. Until we know what ails Adrial, you must not go near him."

"But-”

«Ellysetta, obey me!»
There was no hint of the kind, courting suitor now. Only pure, autocratic king, accustomed to obedience, demanding it without question.

She flinched and glared at Bel, mostly because Rain wasn't there to be glared at, but also because she knew Bel had told on her. "I only want to help.”

"You can help most by doing as your
shei'tan
tells you." Bel glanced at Rowan and Adrial, then added silently,
«Ellysetta, listen to me. You saw Adrial summoning Air without realizing it. He wields Earth, too, and some Fire. He could hurt you, badly. The shei'dalin in you wants to help him. But you are also the Feyreisa. You cannot put yourself at risk.
»

With every muscle in her body protesting, Ellie backed away from Adrial. She hated the Fey's rigid belief that the Feyreisa must be protected from all harm, hated watching Adrial's pain and being refused even the chance to try to help him. The one thing she'd always been good at was easing the wounds and emotions of those she loved.

"Talk to me, Adrial," Rowan urged again.

"I can't think." Adrial pressed his hands over his eyes. "It's so flaming hard to think. My mind is going in a thousand different directions." He leaned his head back against the couch and gave a soft, despairing groan. "Last night it was as if there was someone else in my mind, and now it's as if part of me, part of my soul, is missing. I keep searching but I can't find it. I'm lost. Gods, I'm so lost." His eyes opened. Hollow, devastated eyes. He grabbed his brother's tunic. "Help me, Rowan.”

Rowan was weeping. "I will, Adrial. I'll help you. On my soul, I swear it.”

Ellie was weeping too. She had done this to him. Whatever now tortured Adrial, it had entered his soul because of her, because she in her ignorance and drunken daydreams had spun a weave that left him vulnerable.

It was too much. She couldn't just stand by and do nothing. Adrial's pain was ripping at her, tearing her heart. She stared hard at him, took a deep breath, and for the first time in her life, deliberately tried to use her magic. She thought about the shining threads she'd seen Marissya weave. imagined glowing ribbons of light and power, weaving together in a net of healing magic. Imagined the net settling over Adrial. She concentrated, trying to turn the images into reality.

Nothing happened.

She tried to remember what she'd done last night, emboldened by pinalle and keflee, but it was all still so hazy. She hadn't intentionally woven magic, she'd just let her mind wander. Ellie cleared her thoughts and tried letting her mind wander now. She took deep, calming breaths and thought soothing things, calming thoughts, trying to project them onto Adrial.

Again, nothing happened.

What good was magic if she couldn't use it on demand? Frustration and empathetic pain beat at her. Adrial's Fey-beautiful face was carved with lines of anguish, his warrior's body shaking as he clung to his brother and wept, pleading for someone, anyone, to help him.

Biting her lip, desperate to repair the harm she'd somehow done him, Ellysetta closed her eyes and prayed. "Gods, please, help him. Make it stop. Take away the pain."

CHAPTER FOUR

"You took away his memories, Ellysetta.”

"I said I was sorry!" Ellie met Rain's angry look without flinching. Well, with only a little flinch. Still, it was easier to face Rain's anger than the sad disappointment in Bel's face. Anger let her get angry back. Bel's disappointment made her feel like a belly-crawling
porgil,
as if she'd somehow betrayed him. "You told me not to go near him, and I didn't." She glared at Bel. She hadn't betrayed anyone. "I didn't! You never said I couldn't try to heal him.”

When Marissya, Rain, and Dax had arrived, they'd found Adrial resting quietly, with no memories of the previous night or the emptiness that had haunted him this morning. The last eighteen bells were a blank slate in his mind, wiped completely clean. And when Marissya had made that announcement, a dozen pairs of accusing eyes had turned on Ellie, who had only been able to bite her lip and say, hopefully, "I'm sorry?”

It was, of course, the wrong thing to say. It started off a firestorm of recriminations from Rain, an angry tirade that was still going full steam even now, a full quarter bell later. Adrial had already returned to the palace, accompanied by Marissya, Dax, and Rowan. Teris and Cyr, two warriors from Ravel's quintet, had returned to replace Adrial and Rowan. And Rain was still lecturing Ellie furiously.

She was starting to get angry. All this time, they'd been telling her, "Use your magic. Embrace your magic." She didn't think it was exactly fair of Rain to blame her for following his advice. She had taken away Adrial's pain, after all. Maybe not the way he would have liked, but the pain was gone and other than a few missing memories, Adrial was perfectly fine. She'd even healed him of all remnants of last night's excesses. Lady Marissya herself had said the healing had been masterfully done. You'd think
someone
would be at least a little grateful for that!

"I didn't mean to take his memories. I only meant to help him.”

"You should not have touched him," Rain said for what must have been the twentieth time. "Not in
any
way!”

"You didn't specify. Weren't you the one who told me, "When you wager with tairen, take care with your words'?”

His rush of anger was so hot, so fierce, Ellie half expected to see flames shooting out of his head. "That was a game! This could have cost your life. You knew what I meant when I said to stay away from him.”

"I
knew?
Am I supposed to be able to read your mind now?”

"You could," he snarled. "If you would accept the bond between us, you would know every thought in my mind as
if
it were your own.”

Angry that she was being yelled at for trying to help a friend, angrier still that she hadn't even been able to do
that
right, Ellie shouted at Rain, "Then maybe I don't want to accept this stupid bond! Maybe I don't want your thoughts in my brain. Maybe I prefer to keep my mind my own!
Maybe you should just go back to the Fading Lands and leave me alone!”

The echoes of her shout rang in the dead silence that ensued. Every member of her quintet found a reason to inspect the ceiling, the floor, the bare walls.

Rain said softly, "You don't mean that, Ellysetta.”

"Don't I?" she snapped, but already her flash of anger was fading away. His voice had trembled ever so slightly when he'd said her name just then, and even if their bond hadn't allowed her to feel the uncertainty rising in him, that faint tremble would have given it away. She'd struck him deeply, in a spot vulnerable to no one but her, and she knew it.

Ellie closed her eyes, rubbing her temples. She was tired. Her head hurt. Her heart ached. She'd made a mess of things last night, and that mess had somehow resulted in Adrial's pain. Then she'd tried to heal Adrial, only to make a mess of that too. And now, with angry words that she didn't really mean, she'd hurt Rain as well. His pain was like a burning hollowness inside her, as real to her as if it were her own.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Of course I don't mean it. I'm not myself this morning." Then she laughed at the absurdity of that remark. "This morning? I haven't been myself since the day you came out of the sky and frightened me half to death." She crossed her arms over her chest and forced herself to meet his gaze. "Perhaps it's best if we don't go out today. We're both tired and angry. I don't think there's any point in being alone with each other.”

"You are afraid." He sounded uncertain, as if he were groping to understand her mood. "I've been short-tempered with you, over things you didn't mean to do. It's only because of the danger to you that you don't yet even understand. Ellysetta, don't fear our bond. I know I'm not the easiest of men to accept. I know my own soul, and there are vast wells of darkness in it, but believe me when I say I want only your happiness and your well-being.”

It was the first time Ellie had ever seen Rain's self-assurance rattled, and she didn't like it. He was her hero, the magic prince she'd dreamed of all her life, a legend larger than life. She was just a twenty-four-year-old woodcarver's daughter, a nobody. She should not have the power to make a legend tremble, and yet she did. She didn't want that power. She could not bear to see Rain humbled, especially not by her hand.

"Last night I didn't know what I was doing," she said. "This morning, I did. I tried to help Adrial, even knowing you didn't want me to." She met his eyes and shrugged. "The ironic thing is, when I tried to help him, nothing happened. It was only when I wasn't trying that I succeeded. What good is that to anyone?”

She grimaced and heaved a sigh. "In any case, it's I who owe the apology, not you. I shouldn't have tried to use powers I don't even understand. I shouldn't have done something you'd told me not to do-even if you weren't specific. And I shouldn't have said I wanted you to go away and leave me alone. I don't want that." She looked at her feet and scuffed the toe of one shoe against the wooden floor. "If you believed me, and you left, I'd regret it all my life.”

She didn't hear him move. She only briefly saw the dark shadow of his boots step close to her own slippered feet before she felt his hands cupping her cheeks, long fingers sliding deep into her hair as he gently raised her face to his.

"I know this has all happened so fast," he said. "I know the demands we have placed on you are many and it is hard to become comfortable with so many changes in so short a time. And I am ... short-tempered, even on my best days.” His voice lowered to a husky whisper, and his thumbs stroked her cheekbones in a gentle caress. "I did not mean to shout at you nor wound your feelings.
Sieks'ta, I
have shamed myself. If it pleases you,
shei’tani,
I would begin this day anew. All harsh words forgotten.”

"I would like that.”

"Doreh shabeila de.
So shall it be." He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, a tender gesture that made her heart melt. "Come. Let us dance the skies together."

They flew for more than a bell, heading west and north, past Kingswood to the rolling farmlands of central Celieria, landing in a wooded glade near the tranquil, clear waters of the Same River.

Majestic fireoaks cast their cool shadows over the glade, and the long, flowing branches of water-loving Naidja's locks dangled in the gentle current like the water spirit's tresses for which they were named. Pink button daisies grew abundantly by the riverside, their slender white petals surrounding bright pink centers that filled the air with a delicate scent. Rain plucked a bouquet of the wildflowers for Ellysetta, and as she dabbled her toes in the cool water, he surprised her by braiding a dozen of the flowers into a daisy crown and placing it on her head.

"My queen," he declared.

She hunched her shoulders. "Not a very good one, I'm afraid.”

"A warrior is not made in a day. Give yourself time,
shei’tani.
You will grow into your new role.”

"Maybe. In twenty or thirty years." She toed a smooth river rock. "Assuming, of course, that I haven't single-handedly destroyed every Fey alliance in existence before then. And caused gods only know what harm to all my friends." She flopped back on the grassy bank and stared up at the brilliant blue Celierian sky above.

"Whatever ails Adrial is not your fault, Ellysetta. None of the rest of us suffered any ill effects from your weave save weariness and, for some, a little embarrassment. And the alliance isn't destroyed. King Dorian holds no grudge.”

"That's what-one?-out of two hundred?" She flung an arm over her eyes and groaned. "I knew I shouldn't have gone to the palace last night. Even without that stupid weave, I knew the nobles would be offended by my presence among them. And they were. They resented having me there-and resented you for bringing me. They are peers of the realm, and no matter what you say, no matter what title you grant me, no matter even if you draped me from head to toe in Tairen's Eye crystals, I'm not their equal, nor ever shall be.”

He sat up straight, flinging long swaths of midnight hair over his shoulder. "You are right. You are not their equal. You are my
shei’tani.
My truemate. And I am the Tairen Soul. By the customs of Celieria, the only man in that room last night who was my social equal was Dorian. The only person who was my true equal was you.”

"How can you say that? I'm a nobody. I'm just a plain, simple woodcarver's daughter.”

Rain laughed wryly.
"Ajiana,
you are far, far from simple."

"You know what I mean.”

"I do. And you are wrong." He leaned over her and brushed a lock of hair from her face. "Ellysetta, the
shei’tanitsa
bond does not form between uneven halves. It only forms where there are two evenly matched parts of the same whole.”

She sat up, drawing her legs in and wrapping her arms around them. "Well, that just proves my point. We're as far from being evenly matched as ... as"-he searched for a suitably ridiculous comparison-"a tairen and Love the kitten!”

Rain's lips curved in a faint smile. His lavender eyes, which could at times seem so cold, glowed with warmth. His fingers brushed the smooth skin of her cheek in a soft caress. "You've only just begun to discover your many gifts. Would you berate a child for failing to read when first you set a book before her? Or for failing to walk when first you set her on her feet?”

"I'm not a child.”

"In this you are. No one travels a new path without making an occasional misstep.”

"A
misstep?
Missteps are little things. Like sewing a poor seam or burning dinner. Last night was a catastrophe. And then I compounded it by what I did to Adrial.”

Rain's eyes grew shadowed and his smile faded. The hand by her cheek dropped away. "Ellysetta, I once scorched the world. Millions died by my hand-including thousands who were my friends and allies.
That
was a catastrophe. What happened last night was merely an embarrassment.”

She felt the swell of horror and self-revulsion within him, and for just a moment she heard the echoes of the screams that haunted him before he clamped his barriers tight. Every day of his life, he suffered unimaginable guilt for what he'd done in a few irreversible bells of madness. And she had unwittingly compared one humiliating evening to that.

Tears burned in her eyes. Why did everything she said and did lately seem to come out wrong? "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that.” She stared at her tightly clasped hands as they grew blurry and wavered. She could not bear to disappoint him or diminish herself in his eyes, yet at every turn she seemed to do exactly that. "You must think I'm a complete idiot." Her throat closed up, making her voice crack.

"Nei, shei’tani. I
could never think that”

His voice was so soft, tender, and full of regret. The barriers she'd maintained all day to keep her emotions in check came crashing down. Tears poured from her eyes in a graceless flood. She covered her face and sobbed helplessly. Rain uttered a small, protesting sound and drew her into his arms, but that only made her tears fall faster.

"Las, shei’tani. Nei avi.
Don't cry
Ve khoda keet’san."
Rain rocked Ellysetta gently and stroked the wild tangle of her hair. Her feelings of inadequacy and despair stabbed him like a thousand digger-thorns, the kind that burrowed deep in a man's flesh and released a painful, toxic venom.

Guilt assailed him. From the moment he'd claimed her, he had torn Ellysetta from the familiar comfort of her previous life, and thrust her-with far too little preparation-into the dangerous, unfriendly currents of his. Worse, he hadn't even told her why.

She'd done her best to hide her fears. She'd put on a brave face while she let strangers mold her into whatever queenly form they thought appropriate. As if she were not already queen enough to outshine them all.

He bent his head, resting his forehead against hers, and closed his eyes. All at once he knew Marissya was right. There could be no love or trust between Ellysetta and him until first there was truth.

He waited for her tears to stop, then from somewhere dredged up his own courage. "There is something I must tell you." He turned his head to kiss her palm, then rose to his feet, putting distance between them.

She rose too and started to follow him, then stopped when he turned to face her. He knew his expression had turned to stone. He could not say what he had to say without hiding behind the mask of Fey stoicism, but her uncertainty, the hesitation that dimmed her brightness, made his control falter. "Ellysetta ..

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