“Church?” Briggs threw back his head and laughed. “That’s a good one, Den!”
Den grinned. “I know. Can’t hardly believe it myself. I’ll make an offering at one of the altars for you, eh?”
Briggs snickered and shook his head.
Den pushed through the pub’s brass-and-leaded-glass doors and turned left down King’s Road. He’d actually been telling Briggs the truth, though only because he knew the man would never believe it. His next destination lay about two miles down, in one of the rougher areas of town, where the Brethren of Radiance had set up a mission to minister to the poor and the godless of Celieria City. Founded more than a century ago by a zealous Church of Light priest who’d spent too many years in the north, the Brethren despised magic in all its forms.
Den patted his coat pocket and smiled at the crinkling noise of several more sheaves of folded paper. Yes, indeed, he could already feel the Bright Lord’s Radiance shining upon him.
As Den completed the tasks set to him, Kolis Manza was busy with a mission of his own a little further north in the city. The fourth golden bell of midday had just rung. Time enough to see to this task before journeying back to Eld for a meeting with his master.
The Mage smoothed back his bronze-powdered hair and straightened the fit of his well-tailored but nondescript brown jacket. He’d discarded his Captain Batay disguise after leaving Brodson earlier. A Sorrelian captain would garner too much attention wandering the more affluent residential neighborhoods of the West End, whereas a well-dressed but unremarkable merchant would slip by unnoticed. Not even Fey warriors would connect the bold dress, tattooed face, and oiled hair of Batay with the sober Goodman Black.
He approached a small, tidy home near the riverfront and slowed his pace. His watchful gaze scanned the nearby roads and rooftops, but he detected no Fey warriors, hidden or otherwise. Even so, he was careful. His brows drew together in a faint frownof concentration as he formed a weave of Azrahn and meticulously insulated it in threads of Spirit to mask its signature from keen Fey senses. Only when the familiar, cold, sweet tang of Azrahn was suitably muffled did he direct the weave into the house. He felt the woman’s quick start of fear, her pointless struggle to resist, and the satisfying whimper of obedient subjugation. Pleased, he pushed open the front gate and walked up the gravel path bordered by tidy rows of cultivated flowers. Even before he reached the mullioned front door, he heard the lock click open, and the door swung inward.
The house was as tidy within as without. As Tuelis closed the door behind him, Kolis looked around the modest living room. A smile curved his lips as his glance fell upon the two small children playing quietly on a rug by the hearth. “Aren’t you a pretty pair,” he murmured.
“Mama? Who’s at the door?”
Kolis turned to the young woman who entered the room. She was lovely, with clear, fine skin, deep blue eyes, and an appearance as neat as the home she kept. He smiled. This would be a greater pleasure than most. “My dear, you must be Selianne. Your mother has told me so much about you.”
“Are the beaches in the Fading Lands as beautiful as this?” Ellie looked out across the vast expanse of white sand and turquoise waters of Great Bay. She and Rain had flown countless miles with astonishing speed until the tropical beauty of southern Great Bay had drawn their interest. Now they sat on a blanket on the sand beneath the shade of a copse of broad-leafed pella trees. The remains of the picnic lunch they’d purchased earlier in a tiny bayside village lay between them on the blanket they’d been forced to accept from the awed villager who’d sold them lunch. Rain’s weapons lay in a pile of steel and leather within easy reach of his hands.
“It depends where along the coast you are,” he answered. “Onthe southern coast, there are pella trees, white sand beaches, and crystal waters like this. In the north, where the Feyls meet the sea, the beaches are black and the waters are a deep, deep blue.”
“Tairen like the water, don’t they?”
His eyes warmed and the fierceness of his handsome features softened, making him seem more approachable and somehow even more staggeringly handsome. “Aiyah, they do indeed.”
Ellie’s heart turned somersaults inside her chest. “Tell me about the tairen.”
“What would you like to know?”
“Everything. What do they look like? Are they the same as you when you are a tairen?”
“Aiyah, though they come in many different colors. The oldest female is a deep gray, with white and black in her wings and tail. She is beautiful and very fierce. To the Fey, she is called Sybharukai, the wise one. She is very ancient, very crafty. A powerful friend and an even more powerful enemy.” His voice was filled with both pride and respect. “Her mate is Corus. He is a great warrior, with many battle scars and fur the color of twilight. And there is young Fahreeta, all golden fur and green eyes. She likes games and flirting with the other males to annoy her mate, Torasul. He is the largest of the males except for Sybharukai’s mate, and he has great patience, which is good, else Fahreeta would drive him mad.”
“You make them sound like people.”
He smiled. “They are. Just a different kind of people.”
“How many tairen are there?”
His smile dimmed. Sadness skated across her senses, then was gone so quickly she thought she must have imagined it. “That, you will have to see for yourself. When you come to the Fading Lands, I will take you to meet the Fey’Bahren pride.”
In three weeks, she would wed this man and leave behind everything she knew, everyone she loved. The reminder was an abrupt splash of reality. She drew her knees up close to her chestand wrapped her arms around them. Though half of her longed to go—longed to follow him anywhere, for that matter—the other half was terrified at the prospect. He was so confident, so at ease with himself, his power, the world. He exuded grace and elegance in everything he did, from the way his fingers ran through his hair to the way he sprawled so unself-consciously in the grass yet lost not one shred of dignity or self-possession. Could he possibly be any different from her? And though it only made sense that she would want to follow him to the ends of the earth like the hopelessly besotted romantic she was, what could he possibly see in her?
“Has anyone ever claimed ashei’taniby mistake?”
Rain’s eyebrows flew up and nearly disappeared in his hairline. Then they came plummeting back down into a fierce, haughty frown. “I am not mistaken, if this is what you imply.” His voice was stiff, his eyes hot. Offended pride slapped at her senses.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized quickly. “I didn’t mean to insult you. I just don’t understand how youknow.” She bit her lip. “How can you know? How can you be sure?”
“I am sure.” The finality of his tone signaled an end to the discussion.
Ellie subsided into silence for all of five seconds, before the question struggling inside her burst free. “How is it different from what you felt for Lady Sariel?”
Rain gave her an exasperated look. He obviously wasn’t used to people who insisted on continuing a discussion once he had indicated he was done with the subject. “Comparing the two is like comparing the Great Sun and the Mother moon. They both shine light on the world, but one is the light itself and the other is a reflection.”
