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, undershei’dalintouch, that he did not kill the boy,” Lord Teleos continued. “That proves his innocence. And frankly, even if he had slain the littlerultshart, you lords should applaud rather than condemn him. Which man among you would have let the boy live had he attempted to killyourqueen?”
“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 Feybowed 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 isdahl’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 thedahl’reisenwould 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 ofdahl’reisen. Whoever had engineered the attack had covered his tracks well.
Chapter Fifteen
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 actedas 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 myshei’taniis 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 asseriously 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.
