Lord of the Fading Lands (33 page)

Marissya stifled a gasp, and Rain stiffened with outrage. Bel had been stripped of his blades, his tunic, and his boots, leaving him barefoot, bare-chested, and weaponless. Black metal manacles had been clamped around his wrists and ankles, and a matching black collar circled his neck. Short chains tied the bindings all together and restricted Bel's walk to a shuffle. Though the warrior held himself proudly erect, his face was drawn and pale, and his hands trembled, a testament to the terrible pain he was suffering. "You dare bind a Queen's Blade in
sel'dor?"
Rain hissed in a low voice. A wave of heat swept over the council chamber, and the flames in the sconces flared.

Shocked silence was the only answer to his challenge until Annoura sat up in her throne. "The man stands accused of murder," she pointed out. "Should his guards have left his magic unrestrained? I, for one, will not condemn them for taking precautions.”

"Precautions don't include torturing him until he scarce can stand!
Sel'dor
burns like acid on Fey flesh." He shot a furious, commanding glare at Dorian. "Remove that vile Eld filth this instant, or by Adelis's holy light, I swear I will visit Bel's torment upon you all so you may know what harm you do him." His hands clenched in fists at his sides. Hatred of all things Eld swirled around him like a black cloud, and he struggled to keep his violent emotions in check. Tiny sparks of escaping power flashed around him.
"Now!"
he barked.

"Do it," Dorian commanded, and the guards surrounding Bel hurried to unlock and remove the restraints. "My Lord Feyreisen, I assure you I did not order this.”

When Bel was free of the cursed Eld metal, Rain spun a rapid weave of Earth to replace Bel's boots and tunic and restore at least a modicum of his dignity. Marissya reached out to Bel with healing weaves to soothe the worst of his burns.

Rain waited for her to finish before turning back to Dorian. Fire still sparked in his eyes and anger clipped every word. "Question him and be done. I'll not abandon this honored hero of the Fey to your country's unkind custody a moment longer.”

Bel stood in the center of the council chamber and submitted willingly to Marissya's touch as he swore a Fey oath that the dead boy was the same one who had stabbed Ellysetta, and that he had neither murdered the boy, nor ordered his murder, nor harmed him in any way.

"Truth," she announced when he finished. "If you did not kill the boy, who did?" Lord Sebourne demanded.

"I don't know," Bel said. "We saw no one.”

"Truth," Marissya said.

"So, you're asking us to believe that a young Celierian boy—a boy you were pursuing for the attempted murder of the Tairen Soul's mate just happened to spontaneously combust when you cornered him?”

"I am not asking you to believe anything, my lord. I am merely telling you in all honesty that neither I nor my men killed that boy, and we did not see who did.”

"Truth," Marissya confirmed.

"But he died by magic, did he not?”

"Someone spun the weave that slew him," Bel admitted. Lord Sebourne pounced. "Someone Fey?”

"Fey are not the only race to weave magic, my lord. The Eld do as well. And others.”

"Ah, yes, the Eld." Sebourne cast a speaking glance around the chamber. "That's who you really want us to believe is to blame, do you not?”

Bel ignored the lure dangled before him. "My lord, as I told you, I did not see who spun the weave. I cannot tell you who wove it, but I can assure you who did not. If you are truly interested in finding the killer, I recommend you start by asking who would benefit most from making Celierians doubt the Fey. And while you're at it, also consider this: I am a Master of Spirit. I weave illusion as easily as you draw breath. If I really had killed that boy, why in all the gods' names would I have been stupid enough to let anyone see me do it? And why would I leave them with memories of the crime intact so they could accuse me?”

Sebourne's mouth opened, then closed again without saying a word. Nonplussed, he glanced round the council chamber and saw similar confusion on the faces of his supporters.

"Enough of this farce." On the opposite side of the chamber, a lord who had thus far remained silent now stood up. He had pale, faintly luminous skin, long black hair, and catlike eyes that proved more than a hint of Fey blood ran through his veins.

«Who?»
Rain asked Dax.

«You don't recognize him? You once called his ancestor friend, and I've always thought the family resemblance striking.»
When Rain didn't answer, Dax surrendered the name.
«Teleos. Devron Teleos. He guards the Veil now, as well as the Garreval.»

Rain eyed the young border lord with greater interest. Teleos was indeed a name familiar to him, and neither the Veil nor the Garreval were insignificant stretches of land.

"Ser vel Jelani has sworn a Fey oath, under
shei'dalin
touch, that he did not kill the boy," Lord Teleos continued. "That proves his innocence. And frankly, even if he had slain the little
rultshart,
you lords should applaud rather than condemn him. Which man among you would have let the boy live had he attempted to kill
your
queen?”

"Well said, Teleos." A second, previously silent lord stood up, this one as dark and bronzed as Teleos was pale. There was a no-nonsense sturdiness to him that Rain liked instantly.

«Cannevar Barrial,»
Dax supplied.
«Another lord of the northern march. His daughter recently wed Sebourne's heir.”

"Sebourne, you're being an ass." Lord Barrial made the accusation with casual familiarity rather than ire. "The Fey obviously didn't kill the boy, no matter what the other witnesses think they saw, and the young would-be assassin has paid for his crime with his life. Justice has been done. My lords, let us bring this unfortunate incident to a close and move on to the other very serious matters awaiting the review of this Council." Several lords murmured their agreement.

"Agreed," King Dorian said, cutting off Lord Sebourne as he opened his mouth to protest and silencing the grumbling of several of Sebourne's supporters. "My Lord Feyreisen, accept our apologies for the injury done your lady, and for the accusations made against Ser vel Jelani. I promise you Celieria will make every effort to find the culprit responsible for this unforgivable attack." He turned to address Bel directly. "Belliard vel Jelani, you are free to go. Please accept my personal apologies for the manner in which you've been treated.”

Bel bowed to the king and rejoined his countrymen. All the Fey bowed again and filed from the room. They didn't speak until they reached Rain's suite and the privacy wards were once more in place around the room.

"There is more," Bel said as soon as the privacy weaves were complete. "The knife that set off the Fire weave was a Fey'cha, and I recognized the name-mark on it." He cast a brief, unspoken apology Marissya's way. "It was the mark of Gaelen vel Serranis.”

"Impossible," she exclaimed. "He is
dahl'reisen. I
would have sensed him.”

"There was some other magic hidden in the weave that killed the boy," Bel said. "I don't know what it was. Perhaps your brother has found a way to mask his presence from you the same way he masked his magic from me.”

Was it possible? Rain wondered. Fey used red to fight their enemies and those unworthy of the honor of a duel with clean blades. They used black against each other—always. The numbed black blade used to stab Ellysetta could have been a taunt, an insult to Rain's ability to protect her, and arranging for the injury to be dealt by a child could have been just a way to further underscore that contempt. Was vel Serranis calling him out?

Worse, if Gaelen was responsible, the possibility that he was also behind the murders in the north—possibly even in league with the Eld—suddenly became much more likely. Rain prayed it was not so. Sending warriors to kill the
dahl'reisen
would take a terrible toll on the rapidly dwindling strength of the Fading Lands and push the Fey even closer towards extinction.

Marissya didn't want to believe Gaelen had engineered the attack, but Rain could take no chances. He spent the rest of the afternoon with Bel, retracing the boy's wild chase and visiting the site of his death. Nothing remained but a scorch mark on the cobbles. There was no remnant thread of magic, no sign of any other's presence, and no hint of
dahl'reisen.
Whoever had engineered the attack had covered his tracks well.

Ellysetta spent the afternoon pacing the floor of her family home and waiting for news of Bel. She kept her mind occupied by practicing her spoken command of Feyan with Ravel and the other members of her secondary quintet. They shared anecdotes of life in the Fading Lands, all spoken in Feyan, and periodically checked in with Kieran via Spirit to find out what was happening at the inquiry and reported those updates in Feyan as well.

News of the attack on her left her father more worried than she'd ever seen him. He'd even abandoned the mountain of work that had been keeping him busy morning till night and came home to assure himself she was safe. When he'd hugged her tight and told her gruffly, "I love you, Ellie- girl," she'd seen tears in his eyes.

Mama, too, was clearly shaken, but the fear only reaffirmed every concern she'd already voiced about having the Fey become part of her daughter's life. She spent the day holding Lillis and Lorelle so tightly they squealed, and no amount of calming discussion would placate her. Even after word came that Bel was free, Mama's dire predictions and recriminations continued until Ellie fled to her bedroom and paced the tiny space like a caged tiger.

She wanted to climb out the window and run until her emotions settled, but she wasn't fool enough to consider it. Rain's warnings had proved true. Enemies of the Fey would hurt her to harm him. She'd almost died today … would have died had Rain not acted as quickly as he did. As Bel had warned that first night, the world was no longer a safe place for her.

Several bells after sunset, the sound of wind whooshing past the rooftops and a powerful tingling rush of magic sent her racing to the window in time to see Rain slip from the night sky and land on the flagstones of her family's small courtyard. She raced downstairs to meet him at the kitchen door, but her parents had heard his arrival too and were already there, standing on the back stoop. Mama was wearing one of her looks and roundly berating Rain for not protecting Ellie better, while Papa stood beside her, puffing rapidly on his pipe.

"—our daughter stabbed while under your protection?" Mama was saying. "A boy with a knife nearly killed her right beneath your nose?”

A small muscle flexed in Rain's jaw, but he stood silent as Ellie's mother continued her tirade. When she ran out of steam—even Mama couldn't rail for long against a man who simply stood there and accepted it in silence—Rain bowed. "The mother of my
shei'tani
is right to berate me. I was careless with your greatest treasure. My enemies knew I would not expect the attack to come from a child, and they used that to their advantage. I will not be so blind again”

"Your enemies?" Sol asked. "So you know who attacked Ellysetta? Did you find them?”

Rain shook his head.
"Nei,
Master Baristani, which means that henceforth, we must all be more vigilant. There will be no more games in the park. Ellysetta will leave your home only when she absolutely must, and only with a full complement of warriors in attendance. When I come for our courtship bells, we shall either remain here in your courtyard, or I will take her away from the city, someplace where my enemies cannot surprise me again.”

Lauriana started to object, but Sol gave her hand a warning squeeze. "You did warn us of the dangers that first night of the betrothal," he said, "but I must admit, I didn't take your warning as seriously as I do now. We will all be more cautious." He glanced at Ellie. "I suppose you'd like a little time alone with our daughter.”

Rain bowed again.
"Beylah vo,
Master Baristani. I would indeed. But elsewhere, if I may. Somewhere quiet, where the thoughts of so many do not beat at me as they do here”

"It's late," Sol said. "Please, don't keep her out more than a bell or two.”

"Agreed." Rain held out a hand to Ellysetta.

"Sol!" Lauriana protested. "But—”

"Shh, come inside, Laurie. If it were you who'd been stabbed, I'd want to have you to myself for a bit, to make sure you were safe and unharmed. Let them have their privacy." He put an arm around his wife's waist and led her into the kitchen. "We'll just sit here, sweetheart, and share a quiet cup of tea together until they come back."

They flew east past the lights of the city towards the rolling hills surrounding the moonlight-silvered waters of Great Bay and landed in a small hilltop glade overlooking the bay. There, Celieria City was little more than a distant glow of lights at their backs, and even that was hidden by the treetops. The silence was broken only by the rustle of the ocean breeze in the trees and the faint sound of waves rolling onto the sandy beaches below. Undimmed by the lights of the city, the stars overhead gleamed like diamonds strewn across a black velvet sky.

Magic tingled in the air as Rain wove protective shields around the glade. When he was done he turned to Ellysetta, his face solemn and beautiful, the glow of his Fey skin a shimmering aura. He regarded her in deep, searching silence, then pulled her into his arms and simply held her.

"You frightened me, today,
shei'tani.
A bit of poison on that blade, and I would have lost you." His arms tightened.

"But you didn't.”

"Nei,
thank the gods, but I was careless with you. I won't be again—and I know that will be hard on you." He drew back to look into her eyes. "You need freedom to thrive, just as I do.”

"I'll manage." Somehow, she would. She'd sensed Rain's fear and guilt when she'd been stabbed, his terror at the prospect of losing her. She would not intentionally cause him such distress again. "How is Bel? Ravel told me he'd been chained in
sel'dor.”

"He's fine. The effects of
sel'dor
are painful but not permanent. I told him to stay at the palace and rest tonight. He wasn't happy with me, but he'll be back tomorrow”

"I can't believe King Dorian allowed them to bind Bel in
sel'dor."
She'd read horrible accounts of what the evil Eld metal could do to Fey, how painful and debilitating it was. How could Dorian, who was part Fey himself, have authorized its use on Bel?

"Dorian said he didn't know about it. Marissya believes him." He released her and stepped back. "The Celierians who did it claim they were acting out of self-preservation. Bel stood accused of murdering a Celierian with magic, and they wanted to be sure he couldn't murder them as well. Though they wouldn't admit it, I think Annoura authorized their actions.”

Ellie's eyes closed briefly in shame. "Rain, I'm sorry.”

"For what? You are not to blame for the actions of your countrymen.”

"Maybe not, but if it weren't for me, Bel wouldn't have been accused of murder." She still wanted to weep for what he'd suffered. "Do you have any idea who was behind the attack?"

"We were meant to think
dahl'reisen
sponsored it."

"But you're not so sure?”

"Marissya didn't sense them, and
dahl'reisen
don't hire children to make their kills." His lips thinned. "The Eld aren't so discriminating. Using a child to attack you is just the sort of thing they'd do.”

"Did you find any proof it might have been the Eld?”

"Proof? The hard, irrefutable kind needed to convince your countrymen?
Nei,
for that we'd have to catch a Mage red-handed in the act of subverting a Celierian's mind or weaving Azrahn before a hundred witnesses." His mouth twisted in a grimly sardonic smile. "Unfortunately for us, they usually aren't so blatant. The Eld work in subtleties until they consolidate a base of power. They sow doubts, disagreements, suspicions, fears—the kinds of things that can be explained away. They play on mortal weakness and self- indulgence. And through those small, steady corruptions, they begin to claim souls.”

Ellie could feel his anger building with every word. "Rain ..

He caught himself and drew a deep breath. As he exhaled, she could almost sense him forcibly expelling his rage.
"Sieks'ta,"
he apologized. "Let's not talk of the Eld. I can never speak of them without hatred welling up within me." He turned away and walked closer to the edge of the steep hill. The ocean breeze blew his hair back from his face as he stood there, looking out over the dark, shining waters of the bay. "No matter who sponsored the attack, it will be a long time before I forgive myself for underestimating my enemies. I was too arrogant, too confident in my own abilities to protect you. I failed you.”

Her heart contracted. She went to him, reaching out to grasp his arm. "You didn't fail me, Rain. You saved my life.”

He glanced down at the pale hand gripping his arm and gently removed it.
"Nei, shei'tani.
Your heart is kind, but do not try to weave peace on me. I deserve my guilt. I may have saved your life this time, but only because I got lucky." Her fingers curled around his, holding him when he would have pulled away. "Luck springs from the hands of the gods," she reminded him. "Even if that was what saved me, it only proves the gods don't want you to fail. You should be thanking them for their blessing, not railing against it.”

Silence fell between them. A wolf pack howled in the distance, and down below, a flock of seabirds squawked and took to startled flight at the sound.

"I do thank them, Ellysetta," Rain said quietly. "More than I thought would ever be possible for me again. But I cannot rely on their grace. I know better than most how unkind the gods can be to those who do not prove worthy of their gifts.”

"Oh, Rain." Through the clasp of her hand around his, she could feel the echo of raw grief, the memory of a loss so devastating it had driven him to scorch the world. "Do you think Sariel would want you to carry the blame for her death? Everyone in the world knows how much you both loved each other, and you yourself told me how kind and gentle she was. Surely she wouldn't want you to torment yourself over things you cannot change.”

"Nei,"
he agreed, "but she was always too quick to forgive." He drew in a short breath and squared his shoulders, already tucking the old, painful emotions back under careful guard, hiding them from her. "And I did not bring you here to discuss my ancient grief or guilt." He turned to her and took both of her hands in his, lifting her fingers to his lips. "I meant to give us a few quiet bells together away from the pressures of the city. Somewhere quiet and peaceful where we could simply … be … together. Somewhere I could hold you without an audience." The corner of his mouth curved up. "Perhaps share another kiss or two, if you were willing.”

She wanted to protest the change of subject. His grief, his guilt, was a festering wound inside him, and it needed to be purged. Respect for his pride kept her silent. Battered and bruised, but still fighting for dominance, his was not the selfish, petty pride that made bullies of lesser men, but rather the quiet, determined dignity that turned men into heroes and made heroes crawl back to their feet from the bitter dust of defeat and stand tall once more. She dare not take that from him. She remembered what lay beneath his carefully constructed discipline: the screaming torment, the endless barrage of accusing voices.

She stepped closer and lifted her hands to frame his face. "Then hold me, Rain, and kiss me, for I want the same things.”

Emotions chased across her senses: humility, sorrow, gratitude, devotion. His fingers brushed back spiraling tendrils of hair from her face. "You are more than I deserve,
shei'tani.”

He bent his head and took her lips in a tender kiss. Sweet, gentle, barely more than a brush of his lips against hers, tiny nibbles along her lower lip, a caress of fingertips across her skin, light as mist. His lips started to move away, but she turned her head, following, wanting. Her hands caught his face more firmly, holding him still. She rose up on her toes, her mouth seeking his, asking for the passion he'd shown her before.

He rewarded her boldness. His fingers delved deep into the heavy mass of her hair. His head dove down and his lips claimed hers with fierce and sudden hunger. Need rolled over her senses in hot, heavy waves. His arms slid round her waist and tightened, pulling her hard against him. She felt the crush of his knives, the hard, lean strength of his body.

Then he pulled back, leaving her hands grasping empty air and her brows tightening in a bereft frown. She opened her eyes and saw the long fall of his dark hair streaming down the equally dark expanse of black leather covering his back. He was walking away. "Rain?”

He cast a glance over his shoulder. His eyes were glowing, his skin luminous, and his expression potently male. "Patience, Ellysetta. There's no need to rush.”

Tiny explosions of heat fired all across her body, leaving her knees weak and her breathing shallow He waved a hand. Magic flowed from his fingers in a sparkling stream. A thick blanket unfurled in the center of the clearing and a myriad of tiny lights floated out to flicker in the grass and surrounding trees, lending the meadow a verdant, magical quality, as if Ellysetta and Rain were standing not on a hilltop in the mortal land of Celieria but in an enchanted glade, deep in the misty wonders of Elvia or the Fading Lands. She stared around them, mouth open, passion momentarily forgotten as the power and beauty of his magic enthralled her senses. She could not tell what was real and what was illusion.

"Come,
shei'tani,
sit here beside me" He drew her down onto the blanket and joined her, his long legs folding gracefully beneath him as he sat.

"This is beautiful." She couldn't stop looking at the lights twinkling in the grass and trees. One of the lights flew closer, and she saw it was a tiny, glowing creature with gossamer wings. Its phosphorescent form shifted and glimmered, leaving an impression of slender limbs and great beauty, and then it darted off, a trill of delicate, crystalline notes trailing in its wake.