Despite the pain it caused him to call Fire withsel’dorpiercing his flesh, he’d cremated the Fey warriors’ bodies. He hadn’t attempted to call their souls from the dead to learn what they’d reported to the Fey, though he could have woven Azrahn with minimal pain despite beingsel’dor-pierced. It would have surprised most Fey, including all but a handful ofdahl’reisen, to witness his restraint. Even now there were still a few crimes the Dark Lord would not commit. Calling a Fey soul back from the dead was one of those.
The Eld he’d burned without soul-summoning as well, because their souls were already bound to their master and calling them would have alerted the High Mage to Gaelen’s presence. Not a wise course of action when he wassel’dor-pierced and bleeding his remaining strength into the dust at a fairly alarming rate.
He’d stumbled his way deeper into the forest until he found therultshart’sden. He’d burned out the den’s inhabitants and dragged himself into the small, dank shelter before losing consciousness.
So here he was, wounded, weak, and lying in the foul stench of arultshart’slair as he tried to summon the energy necessary to save himself. Part of him wanted to just close his eyes and bleed his life out. But another, stronger part of him fought the urge with a tairen’s fierceness, all fang and claw and wild instinct to survive. That was the part that had kept him alive even after a thousand years as adahl’reisen, banished forever from the beauty of the Fading Lands and the warmth of the Fey.
Why he’d been driven to cling to his miserable life so long, he did not know, but now, at last, he had again a clear and driving purpose.
The High Mage had a daughter.
Soon she would wed Rain Tairen Soul and the Fey would escorther back to the Fading Lands. Like the ancient legend of the great, cursed treasure that bore pestilence within its golden chalices, by bringing the High Mage’s daughter safely through the Mists, the Fey would escort their own destruction into the Fading Lands. She would doom them all, including Gaelen’s only remaining sister, Marissya. He couldn’t allow that to happen.
The High Mage’s daughter must die.
Slowly, in a process made awkward by the slipperiness of his blood and his own lack of strength, he worked his way free of his weapons and his black leather tunic. The wounds filled withsel’dorshrapnel weren’t bleeding—the cursed Eld metal drank blood like parched ground drank water—but the long, bone-deep gash on his thigh and the two wounds where Eld blades had skewered him had soaked the bandages he’d applied last night and were once more bleeding quite profusely. He didn’t have the strength to remove thesel’dor, but he couldn’t let himself continue to bleed.
Gaelen pulled a black-handled Fey’cha from his belt and called a trickle of Fire to heat the blade until it glowed.Sel’dortwisted even that weak weave into agony. Gritting his teeth, he pressed the fiery blade against the worst of his wounds and fought back a wave of nausea as the smell of his own burning flesh reached his nostrils. He managed to reheat the blade and cauterize two other wounds before losing consciousness yet again.
Vadim Maur stared hard at his apprentice. A small tic worked at the lower corner of his right eye, the only visible sign of his anger.Well, that, Kolis thought,and the thirty-degree drop in temperature in his office chamber.He wasn’t about to ask about the angry red burn marks scoring the left side of the High Mage’s pallid, cadaverous face. No doubt one of his many experiments had gone badly, but Kolis wasn’t fool enough to remark upon it.
“She is a master of Spirit?” Vadim asked, his voice a chilling hiss.
“Without a doubt, master. Last night, she spun a Spirit weave thatcompletely controlled over two hundred minds—Fey included—for over seven bells. None of them was aware of what she was doing until it was too late. She wasn’t even consciously weaving. I’ve never seen the like. I was there in the body of myumagiJiarine Montevero, and she has enough hearth witch in her that I could see the flows. They came from Ellysetta Baristani.”
“Andyourmind, Kolis? As you were close enough to see this weave, did it control your mind too?”
Kolis flushed and dropped his gaze. “I am ashamed to admit it did, High One. Even knowing it was a weave, I could not deny its dictates.”
Silence fell. The room temperature plunged again, and frost crackled on every surface. “So, she’s a master of Spirit as well as Fire...”
Kolis’s eyes widened as Vadim Maur’s hand twitched towards the scorch marks on his face. Ellysetta Baristani had done that? Dark Lord’s Scythe! How was it possible?
The High Mage’s silver eyes began to darken with spinning clouds of black and red. “Not at all the ungifted wretch my pets have long tried to convince me she was.”
Even knowing that his master’s anger was not directed at him, Kolis felt the chill of it ice his veins. The captives would regret their duplicity. The walls of Boura Fell would soon echo with their screams. Despite himself, the Sulimage could almost feel pity for them.
“You will bring Ellysetta Baristani to me.” The wintry command snapped Kolis back to attention.
“I anticipated your request, master.” In a quick rush of words, he explained about the gift he had prepared for Ellysetta Baristani. “I’ve already arranged for its delivery, and ensured there will be no way to trace the gift back to either myumagior myself.”
The High Mage tapped a contemplative finger against his lips, and the room began to warm as the worst of his anger passed. “The idea has merit, but you lose much control once the packageleaves your possession. What is your alternate plan in case this one fails?”
Kolis swallowed and cautiously admitted, “I haven’t fully prepared it yet.”
“The key to success, Kolis, is planning for failure.”
“I know, master, and I have arranged for my newestumagito serve as the Baristani girl’s Honoria, in the hope that she could be of greater service to me. I thought perhaps an abduction at the wedding, should the gift not work as intended.”
The High Mage shook his head. “The Tairen Soul will be there. It is too great a risk.”
“Yes, Great One, but it seemed the best option. I considered having myumagiopen a portal during the Bride’s Blessing, when they are sequestered in the cathedral’s Solarus for the purification, but she would be outnumbered and unlikely to succeed.” The only people permitted to accompany a bride into the Solarus during the Bride’s Blessing were the priest, the bride’s mother, and the Honoria—and neither Lauriana Baristani nor Greatfather Tivrest were Mage-claimed. For all his posturing and arrogance, the archbishop was a man of deep faith, and he had staunchly resisted every one of Kolis’s attempts to turn him.
“I’m pleased you considered an attack during the Bride’s Blessing; it was my first thought as well. The isolation makes for a perfect opportunity.” Master Maur smoothed the silk-lined velvet cuff of his purple Mage robes. “And though you would be correct about the unlikelihood of yourumagi’ssuccess, assuming she was our only agent in the Solarus, I’ve already considered that problem and devised what I believe is a very workable solution.” One silvery brow lifted. “Did you know that Ellysetta Baristani was once under the care of the Church exorcists?”
“No, master, I didn’t know that.”
“Mmm, well, she was. I received word just a few chimes ago from Primage Keldo. Hisumagiin Hartslea discovered it.” The High Mage sat back in his chair and steepled his hands beneathhis chin. “Apparently, young Ellysetta suffered regularly from violent ‘seizures’ in her childhood. The Church determined she was demon-possessed and convinced her parents to approve an exorcism. According to Keldo’sumagi, the girl’s father had a change of heart before the exorcism could be completed, and the family fled Hartslea rather than give her up to the priests.”
