He frowned, perplexed. No, he had never heard her song. He’d seen the tairen in her eyes, he’d felt its power coiling inside her, witnessed its devastating fury, but he’d never heard it sing. “Nei,” he said slowly. “I thought perhaps I had not heard it because our bond is not complete.”
«You hear the songs of the pride.»
“Aiyah, I hear all the pride, but we are not mates. I hear the thoughts of all the Fey, too, but until Ellysetta and I complete our bond, I can hear only the thoughts she deliberately sends to me. Perhaps her song works the same way.”
«We do not hear her either. She is... »Sybharukai abandoned words and sang a series of notes that summoned the image of a tangled net of string with tairen kits diligently tugging at the loose ends, only to tangle the string even more.
Rain nodded. “Aiyah. I could not have said it better.” Ellysetta was a conundrum, a fascinating mix of innocence, astonishing power, and countless secrets that taunted him with their presence while remaining stubbornly concealed.
«When you return to the Fey-lair, the tairen will fly with you and sing pride-greetings to Shei’Kess for your mate, since she has no song of her own.»
His jaw dropped open. The tairen had not entered Dharsa since before the Mage Wars. “Why would you do that? You didn’t even come to ask the Eye for help saving the kits.”
Sybharukai sniffed.«Why should we have gone then? We sent you.»
He blinked, nonplussed.They’dsent him? Nearly a month ago, in an act of sheer desperation, he’d laid bare hands on the Eye of Truth in an attempt to wrest answers from it. The oracle had not been pleased. Now, Sybharukai implied that she’d somehow been responsible for his actions. His eyes narrowed. “Did you put the idea of confronting the Eye of Truth in my head?”
She extended her claws and began sharpening their tips against the rock.«You are pride. You knew our need. You did what was necessary when the time was right.»
Rain gave a short laugh and shook his head. That nonanswer was answer enough. The Fey would never dream of using their magic to manipulate other Fey, but the tairen had never pretended to be so civilized. They were not tame and did not live by the laws of those who were. “And Ellysetta? Why would you sing pride-greetings for her? What are you not telling me?”
Sybharukai heaved a breath and flapped her wings. Tairen might be wild, wicked, and unpredictable, but like the Fey, they never lied.«Ellysetta-kitling smells tairen,»she finally said,«but she smells of something else too.»Her eyes closed, and a low purr hummed in her throat.«Old magic.»
He sat up straight. “What kind of old magic?”
Sybharukai’s purring ceased. Her bright green eyes opened and her claws dug into the rock.«The scent is too ancient. This tairen’s pride-memory does not go back far enough to name it, but Shei’Kess will know. Shei’Kess keeps the memories of all the prides.»
More ancient than Sybharukai’s pride-memory? The possibility shocked him. Sybharukai wasmakaiof the Fey’Bahren pride. She herself had lived more than two thousand years, and her pride-memory stretched back to the start of the Second Age, passed on from each dyingmakaito her successor.
A loud splash interrupted him before he could ask. Steli had entered the water and was paddling beside Ellysetta’s ledge, snorting sprays of water. Ellysetta gave a tiny scream of surprise that broke into laughter, and she swept her arm across the water’s surface to direct a retaliatory splash back at the playful tairen.
Steli’s play surprised Rain. The tairen of the Fey’Bahren pride had never offered Sariel anything but aloof disregard and tolerance, yet here was Steli treating Ellysetta like a tairen kitling. Even without hearing Ellysetta’s song, Steli and the others accepted her as one of the pride.
Fahreeta leapt into the water, sending a massive splash arcing though the air. The golden tairen gave a crowing roar of victory as her wave swamped both Steli and Ellysetta, then dove beneath the surface as Steli gave chase. Ellysetta watched, laughing.
Rain turned back to Sybharukai, intending to continue their conversation, but themakaiof the Fey’Bahren pride had risen to her feet and was padding down towards the rim of the lake.«Enough talk, Rainier-Eras. Time for play.»With an impressive roar, Sybharukai jumped in. The rest of the pride soon followed, and within moments, the lake was filled with wet, playful tairen.
Knowing he would get no more answers today, and unwilling to be left out of the pride’s fun, Rain stood up, stripped off his leathers, and dove smoothly into the warm, clear waters to join them.Merdrahl and Cahlah were gone, but their suffering was over. The Fire Song had awakened a sense of joy and renewal in them all, and he, like his tairen family, could spare time for a little happiness before resuming the battle with the darkness that threatened them all.
Celieria City ~ The Royal Palace
Lady Jiarine Montevero, lady-in-waiting to Celieria’s Queen Annoura, leaned closer to the clear glass mirror and dabbed a thin layer of fresh white powder over the dark circles beneath her eyes. She hadn’t been sleeping well since the disappearance of Queen Annoura’s Favorite, Ser Vale—the sinfully handsome, vivid-eyed courtier Jiarine knew and served as Kolis Manza, the Elden Mage to whom she had surrendered her soul in return for wealth, power, and noble advancement.
Eleven days without sleep—worrying not so much about Master Manza’s fate as her own—was beginning to show on her face, and she could not afford for that to continue. Queen Annoura of Celieria did not tolerate less than perfection amongst the Dazzles of her inner court. Ser Vale might return, and he would not be pleased if she’d lost her increasingly favored position in Annoura’s inner circle due to something as foolish as lack of attention to her appearance.
Jiarine pinched her cheeks, then deftly added a blushing hint of color from a pot of pink powder. She was wearing her hair its natural dark color today. She’d just received word that the queen was feeling peevish this morning. When that was the case, her inner court knew to abandon their hair powders and choose rich, dark shades of clothing, the better to set off the queen’s silvery pale beauty and improve her mood.
Muttering a curse, Jiarine kicked the hem of the pale blue gown she’d already put on, then removed this morning. “Fanette!” she called to the young lady’s maid she’d sent into the next room topress her deep sapphire gown. “Hurry up with that gown, girl! Her Majesty does not tolerate tardiness.”
Turning back to the mirror, she reached down into the cups of her tightly laced corset and plumped her breasts so the rouged nipples peeped out over the lacy tops. She knew how to use her assets to the best advantage, and there were several influential lords who liked to see a hint of rose when Lady Montevero leaned their way.
If Master Manza didn’t return, Jiarine had her own plans for advancement. Starting with becoming the next Lady Purcel. The old wheezer was rich as a king, and though his breath stank like a barracks privy and his lecherous hands loved to pinch and grope any young woman fool enough to walk within reach, she’d happily ride his withered old rod straight into his grave in return for access to his coffers and control of his lands. Besides, he was so old, it wouldn’t be hard to arrange a timely death for him in the event frequent and enthusiastic copulation didn’t do the trick. And thanks to that weave-driven night of lust two weeks ago, Purcel had already sampled Jiarine’s wares and knew they were to his liking.
The bedchamber door opened. “Finally! What in the Dark Lord’s name took you so—” Jiarine’s voice broke off at the sight of the two unfamiliar men who stepped into the room. She grabbed the first thing within reach—a cushion—and held it to her chest. “Who are you? How dare you! Get out this instant!”
Both were dressed as nobles, but she had lived at court for the last three years and recognized neither of them. The taller of the two was a handsome, lean man with forest-green eyes. The shorter one was built like a barrel-chested longshoreman from the wharf. His pale blue eyes, surrounded by stubby black lashes, swept over her with undisguised interest.
When neither man obeyed her command to leave, she raised her voice and screeched, “Fanette!”
