The now-familiar, chuffing sound of tairen laughter joined the rush of the wind in her ears.«Hold on again, shei’tani. This is even better.»
Flows of magic spun out to bind her securely into place, and Rain shot forward on a thrust of magic-powered speed. The world rushed by in a dizzying blur, and with a subtle shift of his wings, he sent them spiraling into a corkscrew roll. Shadowy earth and moonlit sky whirled in a wild kaleidoscope before Ellysetta’s dazzled eyes.
Another woman might have shrieked in fear and begged him to stop. Ellysetta only flung back her head and laughed in delight. Freedom coursed through her veins like a potent drug.
She would never tire of flying. The limitless joy of dancing, laughter-spangled winds, the thrill of diving through misty clouds and soaring so high she could almost scoop stardust with her fingertips: Flying was a joy so rich, it chased back all sorrows and fears. Well, she amended silently,almostall.
«Rain, do you honestly think when we get to Fey’Bahren, I can just walk in and spin a weave that will cure the kitlings of whatever is killing them?»That was the reason Rain had come to Celieria to find her. Unbeknownst to the outside world, a mysterious sickness had been killing unborn tairen in the egg for centuries, decimating their numbers until scarcely more than a dozen of the great cats still lived. The Eye of Truth had sent Rain to Celieria to find the key to saving them.
She, Ellysetta Baristani, was that key. Even if none of them actually knew how she was going to manage the miracle.
«I know it doesn’t sound like much of a plan,»he said,«but the tairen have never let any of our healers into the lair—not even Marissya. You, however, are both a Tairen Soul and my truemate. You’ll be able to enter the lair and weave healing on the kits as no other shei’dalin has been able to.»
«This assumes I’ll even know what weave to spin when I get there—let alone how to spin it.»
«That’s why Marissya will be going with us to Fey’Bahren—so she can continue your training and counsel you while you’re healing the tairen. But you may not even need her help. I heardyou healed Ravel’s new Fire master well enough this afternoon while I took your sisters flying.»
She gave a short laugh.«Oh, yes, I healed him all right. I made that wound vanish as if it had never been.»
«There, you see—»
«And I erased every hint of weariness from the last week of travel,»she informed him.«And wiped clean every shadow on his soul. And filled him with such an abundance of energy that he shone like a newly minted coin and spent the rest of the day racing circles around my quintets until Bel and Ravel both threatened to pull red on him if he twitched another muscle.»
There was a brief silence; then Rain said in an oddly choked voice,«Well, shei’tani, there are worse tribulations in life than healing a Fey too well.»Chuffing tairen laughter vibrated in his throat.
Her eyes narrowed. He found that amusing, did he?«And when he wasn’t annoying his brother Fey, he was following me around like a lovesick puppy.»
The chuffing laughter changed instantly to a low, rumbling growl. Licks of flame seared the air before Rain’s muzzle.«Oh, was he?»The fur on the back of his neck rose up, and his rounded ears lay back. Tairen were territorial creatures, and they definitely did not appreciate encroaching males trespassing too near their mates.
«Ha! You see? It’s not so funny anymore, is it?»She ran a frustrated hand through the wind-tangled spirals of her hair.«I’m like a rultshart in a spider-silk shop. If Marissya asks me to summon a puff of Air, I call a gale so strong it knocks her off her feet. If she asks me to summon Water, I nearly flood the encampment.»
«Your power is vast,»Rain soothed, «and no longer restrained by the weaves set upon you in childhood. You simply need time and practice to learn how to wield it in moderation.»
She sighed.«Even assuming I can learn to control my powerenough to spin the right weaves, what if healing doesn’t stop whatever’s killing the kits?»
His right wing dipped, and he banked, wheeling back around towards the south.«Then we go to Dharsa and start from the beginning. Perhaps you can help us discover something we have overlooked all these years.»
«Rain, be realistic.»
«I am. I asked for the key to saving the tairen and the Fey, and the Eye sent me to you. To me, it seems quite clear that whatever is killing the kitlings, you are integral to making it stop. I do not doubt this, even though you do.»
Rain’s wings spread wide, and he sank through the sky in a circling glide, alighting on a stretch of empty field. A cradling ribbon of Air magic deposited Ellysetta on her feet while the Change swirled around Rain’s tairen form in a sparkling mist.
His hands rose, long fingers threading into the wild spirals of her flame-red hair, the pad of his thumb brushing across her lips and leaving tingles of awareness behind. “We’re here,shei’tani.”
Ellysetta glanced at their surroundings. Nothing looked familiar.
“Where is ‘here’?”
His eyes went dark. “This is Eadmond’s Field.”
The Lake of Glass stretched out for miles, its dark, glossy surface glittering beneath the dim light of the moons overhead. Mist swirled in ghostly eddies along the silent, lifeless shores of the lake, and in the scant moonlight the shifting vapors looked like spectral maidens dancing forlorn pirouettes.
Ellysetta could hardly breathe as she regarded the wide expanse of what once had been the most infamous battlefield in the history of Celieria. Here, a thousand years ago, Rain’s first mate, Sariel, had been slain by Elden Mages, and in grief-stricken madness over her death, Rain had given himself to the Wilding Rage and scorched the world with tairen flame.
As they approached the southern shore of the glass lake, theypassed a bronze statue set in a circle of carved stones. Her throat grew tight as she realized the bronze was a life-size replica of the doomed couple immortalized by Fabrizio Chelan’s famous painting,Death of the Beloved: Rain Tairen Soul clutching his dead mate, Sariel, and crying out his despair to the heavens. The stones circling the statue retold the fateful battle through scenes carved into diamondine granite. Millennia would pass, she realized, before weathering finally laid to rest the story of Rain and Sariel.
Ellysetta traced the last of the etched slabs, reading the tragic conclusion of the tale she knew so well. “‘Some say if you walk to the center of the lake, you can still see the Lady Sariel, beautiful as a sunrise, appearing merely to sleep beneath the surface.’” Rain’s sudden stab of sorrow slapped her senses, and she gave a gasp of dismay. “Oh, Rain, I’m sorry.” She’d told the tale so often to her sisters, the words had spilled out automatically. “I shouldn’t have read that aloud.”
