He stood so straight, so tall. So alone. A bulwark of strength standing between his people and the world. Though he had not said as much in words, his skills set him apart, made him different from everyone around him. She knew what it meant to be different. Even when she was among those who loved her most, therewas always a part of her that felt lonely, outside the close bond of sameness that everyone else seemed to share.
She reached out and took his hand. She felt him tense as her fingers closed around his; then he gave a little shudder and pulled her to her feet so he could wrap his arms around her. Need and violent passion raged in him, but she felt him battle it back, control it, cage it. That took strength, too, she realized. Immense strength, which he exerted with such fierce will because he did not want to frighten her. She feared both his magic and the savageness that lived in his soul, could not imagine ever having access to such seemingly limitless power, but she also understood what it was to be alone and to long for acceptance and the warmth of a loving embrace.
Her prayer went up, silent but heartfelt,Dear gods, grant him peace.
His body went stiff, then trembled faintly. When she would have pulled back in concern, his arms clutched her tight. “Nei, shei’tani, do not leave me just yet. Let me hold you a while longer.” She felt his lips press against her hair, felt his need for her down to her soul, and for this moment in time she did not feel alone.
They stood there by the Velpin for many long, silent chimes, the woodcarver’s daughter and the man who had once almost destroyed the world, the man whose face was now drawn in lines of mingled joy and anguish.
Chapter Nine
Ellie wandered, blind and searching, through a dark, black cavern lit only by the faint light of distant flickering fires. The air was hot and heavy, burning her lungs so that her breath rasped harshly in the tomblike silence. Perspiration beaded on her skin.
A rustle sounded down one wide tunnel, a growl, low and dangerous. Fear skated across her nerves, but she followed the sound, drawn to it against her will. Something hissed behind her, making her jump. She turned, squinting into the shadows, but if something was there she could not see it. Heart pounding, she continued forward, one shaky step after another, down a black, twisting tunnel, using the feel of rough rock beneath one hand to guide the way. The glow of red-orange light grew brighter.
Without warning, the dark tunnel opened up to a wide, deep cavern. There, in the flickering shadows beside a river of molten lava, a great black tairen crouched over a torn, bloody carcass, feeding. The carcass moved. A human hand lifted weakly. A ravaged face turned to her. Selianne’s blue eyes stared out at her through rivulets of thick, dark blood.
Ellie woke with a sudden jerk and a ringing cry, sitting up and gasping for air.
She was at home, in her bedroom. To her surprise, soft morning sunlight streamed through her bedroom window. Usually her nightmares came in the deepest dark of night, not so close to dawn.
“Ellysetta!Kem’falla, are you all right?” Belliard’s voice sounded outside her door.
She didn’t answer right away.Blessed gods, what a nightmare. All Rain Tairen Soul’s talk of Eld, death, and dark magic last night must have frightened her more than she’d known.
The door rattled with the force of Bel’s staccato knocking. “Answer me, Ellysetta, or I will come in. Are you harmed? Should I call the Feyreisen?”
Before Ellie could answer, she heard her mother’s voice. “What it is? What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine,” Ellie called, hoping to allay their concern. She threw off the covers, dragged a robe over her nightgown and opened her bedroom door to let Belliard and her mother see for themselves. “I’m fine,” she repeated. “It was just a nightmare.”
Lauriana tugged the belt of her robe. “Another bad one?” she asked cautiously. It hurt Ellie to see the fear, so long absent, back in her mother’s eyes.
“I’m sure it’s just all the excitement from the last few days.” Heightened emotions had always served as a catalyst to nightmares—and other things—in the past.
Lauriana didn’t ask what the nightmare had been about, and Ellie had long ago learned not to offer the information. Even when she’d been young, there were things she dreamed that no child should.
Her mother scowled and cast a dark look at Belliard. “I told your father nothing good would come of this. I told him letting these Fey remain beneath our roof was a bad idea, that the last thing you needed was to be around a bunch of magic-wielders, but did he listen?”
“Mama,” Ellie interrupted. “You know you can’t blame my nightmares on the Fey.”
Her mother took a deep breath and clamped her lips closed. Ellie could all but see her carefully tucking her fears away and forcibly reasserting her normal, steady calm. “You should dress, Ellie. There’s much to be done today. And wear something nice. We’ll be meeting the queen’s personal dressmaker this morning so you can be measured for your wedding gown, as well as half a dozen of the queen’s street merchants who’ll supply the rest of what you’ll need, and then we have an appointment with the Archbishop himself to plan your wedding ceremony.” Lauriana gave Ellie a brisk kiss, sniffed at Belliard, and walked back down the short hall to her own bedroom.
The Fey remained where he was, his cobalt eyes intent and searching. “Will you tell me what you dreamed to cause such fear? Perhaps there is something I can do to help.”
Considering the subject of her dream, she was even more loath to discuss it with him than with her mother. Telling Belliard about her nightmare could lead to unwelcome questions about Selianne. “I’ve had nightmares all my life, especially when I’ve had too much excitement in a day, as I have for the past few days. They mean nothing except that I don’t get as much sleep as most Celierians.” She forced herself to hold his gaze, but her smile refused to cooperate. It trembled traitorously until she gave up the attempt at false bravado and shrugged. “But thank you for your offer to help, Ser vel Jelani.”
After a silent, searching moment, Belliard bowed. “I am Bel to you,kem’falla,” he reminded her in a gentle voice. “My soul and my steel are pledged to your protection.”
“Beylah vois the Fey way of saying ‘thank you,’ isn’t it?”
“It is.”
She touched the back of his hand. “Thenbeylah vo, Bel. I appreciate your concern.”
His fingers covered the spot she’d touched, and he gave her an odd little half smile. “You do that with so little effort, I can scarce fathom it.”
“Do what?”
