“Tairen’s Eye to forge the bridge.” He lowered the crystal into the water until it was completely submerged. The pink, bloodied water grew clear again as the Tairen’s Eye crystal at the bottom of the bowl began to glow and pulse like a heartbeat. Vadim dipped the small golden goblet into the altar bowl and drank. The pulsing beat of the crystal grew loud in his ears as his heart matched the rhythm.
“Azrahn these souls enthrall.” The High Mage of Eld closed his eyes. He stretched his open palms over the golden bowl. Azrahn gathered at his fingertips and spiraled upwards, a spider-silk-thinfilament of darkness that pulsed with red lights keeping time with the beating crystal. Threads of Spirit joined it, wrapping the Azrahn in a protective shield, hiding it from Fey senses. The weave traveled up the tiny pipe that rose from the antechamber’s ceiling, through hundreds of layers of rock, into the fresh night air of Eld, then raced south towards Celieria with dizzying speed. His senses raced with it, shooting over forests, rivers, and towns until he reached the glowing brightness of Celieria’s capital city.
And there, as his body stood vacant and chilling half a continent away in Eld, High Mage Vadim Maur began softly to croon, “Are you she, girl? Are you the one? Show yourself.”
Well into the night, Ellie drifted in a fretful sleep, tossing and turning as she dreamed of flames and magic and horrible battles where blood flowed in rivers. The scenes changed. Shadows dimmed her vision, and a cold, frightening fog covered the world. Within the fog, something stalked her, calling to her, beckoning with familiar malevolence.
Fear gripped her, the certainty that whatever she did, she must never reveal herself to that crooning evil.Hide deep and well. Do not let him find you.
A strong breeze from her open bedroom window blew across her face. In a half-waking state, she imagined a shadow falling across her. She tensed with sudden fear, then sighed her relief as a tender hand brushed hair from her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered with the effort to open, but a kiss feathered across her brow and a soft-spoken caress of words soothed her. Deep, restful sleep finally overtook her and she sank into it willingly.
Crouched on the floor beside her bed, surrounded by a weave of Spirit to make himself invisible, Rain Tairen Soul watched over his truemate as she slept.
Chapter Five
Ellie woke to yet another pounding headache and the feel of something soft yet bristly brushing against her cheek. Her eyes opened, and she rose up on one elbow to find a vibrant blue feather on her pillow. It was easily as long as her forearm, with a tuft of navy down at its base and iridescent pink glimmers along its edges. The feather had come from a kolitou, a very rare species of bird that lived in the most inaccessible reaches of the Tivali Mountains bordering Elvia to the south. Hundreds of years ago, before craftsmen had perfected the delicate metal pen nib for writing instruments, the kolitou feather had been the quill of choice for kings due to its rare beauty and the danger involved in acquiring it.
Ellie had no idea why the feather was on her pillow, though she had a fairly good idea who had put it there. Climbing high enough to locate a kolitou aerie was risky for men, but it wouldn’t be difficult for a Tairen Soul.
There was an old Celierian proverb: Mind what you pray for, the gods may grant it. She had prayed for someone else, anyone else but Den. She’d been hoping for a nice, quiet man like Papa. Instead, the gods had sent her the man who’d scorched the world.
The Feyreisen terrified her. He wore the promise of death like a cloak, and dread magic all but crackled around him. Yet even as her heart quailed, he drew her as no man ever had. Already, after only two brief meetings, he was like an addictive potion in her blood. She hungered for the sight of his face, the sound of his voice, the tingle in her skin when he was near. She didn’t believe itwas mind control, as Selianne feared. After all, what could Ellysetta Baristani possibly have that the King of the Fey would want?
She wasn’t fool enough to think Rain Tairen Soul loved her just because he claimed she was his truemate. The man whose consuming, tragic love for the Lady Sariel was still celebrated throughout Celieria would not lightly cast aside the memories of his dead wife and set in her stead a young, unremarkable mortal stranger.
But Ellie also knew enough about the legends of the truemate bond to know it only formed where deep, abiding love could blossom. The temptation of knowing a love so deep, so complete, so unconditional, was a powerful lure that appealed straight to her deepest, most secret desire. Plain, awkward, simple Ellie dreamed of love. Not the gentle, friendly love that could eventually grow between two people joined in an arranged marriage, but the boundless, passionate love that only happened in Feytales.
She brushed the pink-shimmered kolitou feather across her face, remembering the feel of Rain’s hands doing the same. Impulsively she kissed the feather, then tucked it with care into the top drawer of her dressing table and hurried to get dressed.
Outside, Fey minds murmured to one another in approval. It was a fine first gift, and the Feyreisa had accepted it. The courtship had begun.
At half past seven bells, as the Baristani family broke their fast in their tiny kitchen, a knock sounded at the front door.
“I’ll get it,” Sol said. He swiped at his lips with his napkin before tossing it on the table.
Curious as to who would call so early in the morning, Ellie followed him to the front door. She and her father both froze in surprise at the sight of a royal messenger standing on the doorstep, impeccably garbed in expensive gold-embroidered livery.
The man gave a brief bow. “You are Sol Baristani, master woodcarver?” he asked.
Her father swallowed and cleared his throat. “Yes.”
“Father of Ellysetta Baristani?” The messenger’s gaze flickered to Ellie before snapping back to her father’s face.
Papa’s gaze did the same. “Yes,” he said, a little more slowly this time.
The messenger clicked his mirror-polished black heels and bowed again, a half bow rather than the previous quarter. “Then it is my honor, privilege, and duty, Master Baristani, to present you with this summons to the royal palace.” He held out a rolled parchment tied with a blue satin ribbon and sealed with a large glob of gold wax bearing the crest of the royal family of Celieria. “You and your family are to make your appearance by ten bells today.”
Papa cracked the royal seal and unrolled the parchment. His eyes scanned the contents rapidly. “There is no reason noted for the summons.” He looked up at the messenger. “Why is our presence requested?”
“It is not my place to know, Master Baristani. I have been instructed to wait for you to prepare yourselves, and then to convey you to the palace. A coach has been provided.” He waved at the covered coach waiting in the street. It was a massive vehicle, painted a rich Celierian blue buffed to a high gloss. A team of six matched grays stood patiently in their harnesses. The royal coat of arms was emblazoned in gold on the sides of the coach.
“I see. Then shall I assume this request is more in the way of a royal command?”
The messenger bowed again.
“Well.” Papa rubbed his chin the way he always did when gathering his thoughts. “Give us a bell or so to ready ourselves. You are welcome to wait in the house.”
The messenger eyed the Fey warriors standing like dark shadows behind Ellie’s father and declined. “Thank you, Master Baristani, but I shall await your convenience outside.”
