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 beagain—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 insel’dor.”
“He’s fine. The effects ofsel’dorare 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 insel’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 thinkdahl’reisensponsored it.”
“But you’re not so sure?”
“Marissya didn’t sense them, anddahl’reisendon’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-handedin 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 thatwaswhat 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 Ithought 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.
