In the shadow of his hood, the seeping flesh that was Vadim’s mouth pressed flat. “It seems our secret is out.”
Celieria ~ Orest
By the time Rain, Ellysetta, and Steli neared Orest, night had fallen. Pinpoints of flickering light from campfires burning beneath the trees dotted the southwest corner of Eld, and the nightly mortar barrage had already begun. Fiery mortars exploded against the great gray walls of Lower Orest and split the darkness like flashes of lightning. Flames spat from the gaping jaws of tairen diving to scorch the siege weapons, but a rain of black arrows and bowcannon bolts kept the tairen at bay and the Eld trebuchet firing.
Catapults on the walls of Orest sent answering volleys—great, fiery blobs of burning pitch that exploded on impact and stuck like fiery glue to whatever they hit. The added height of the wall-mounted siege gave the Celierian weapons greater distance, and the audible screams of Eld soldiers wreathed in flames and running in wild circles mingled with Celierian cheers when a direct hit toppled one of the Eld trebuchets and sent it up in flames.
Rain flew well out of reach of the missile attacks, and Ellysetta kept the invisibility weave wrapped securely about them until he and Steli dove down into the large, scooped-out hollow that housed Veil Lake and Upper Orest.
Ellysetta’s booted feet hit the ground running while Rain Changed and landed only a few steps behind her. Together, they jogged the short distance to the edge of the plaza where Great Lord Devron Teleos and the five warriors of Ellysetta’s bloodsworn quintet were waiting to greet them.
“Koderas is lit.” Rain delivered the news without preamble. “Every furnace, by the look of it.”
Dev’s Fey eyes flared with a sudden surge of latent magic. Though he was Celierian born and bred, Lord Teleos’s bright eyes and the silvery luminescence of his skin betrayed the strong Fey heritage of his family’s House. Long before King Dorian I had wed his Fey bride ten centuries ago, the lords of House Teleos had intermarried with the Fey and guarded the gateways to the Fading Lands—first at the Garreval, and more recently here in Orest as well.
“I suppose I should feel more surprised,” Dev said, “but I’ve been waiting for that blade to drop for months now.”
“As have I.” Rain had suspected the truth even before the first attack on Orest. “If you’ll ready a rider, I’ll write a letter to the king. Dorian needs to start calling in favors from his allies immediately. If this Mage attacks with even half of what we faced in the Mage Wars, every man, woman, and child in Celieria could stand before the Eld and still be overrun.”
“The last three couriers never made it to their destination.”
Rain processed the news without blinking. “Then I’ll have a Spirit master send the weave.”
“Only if he can send it on a private weave. The Warriors’ Path has been compromised.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean we had some unexpected visitors while you were gone.” The flash of an illumination mortar lit up the plaza bright as day. “There’s news you need to hear, but let’s get inside first. No sense giving the Eld a clear target while we talk.”
«Steli…» Rain turned to the white tairen, who had padded to the edge of Veil Lake to slake her thirst.
The white tairen lifted her regal head. «Go with the Fey-kin, Rainier-Eras. Steli will join the pride and scorch the Eld.» She crouched on her hind legs and leapt into the sky with a roar. «Time to run, foolish Eld-prey,» she sang. «Steli-chakai is here, and she is hungry.»
Leaving Steli and the pride to subdue the Eld, Rain and Dev flanked Ellysetta, and her quintet ringed protectively around the three of them as they made their way off the plaza.
“So what’s this about the Warriors’ Path being compromised?” Rain asked as they walked down the torchlit brick path. The mist off the waterfalls of Kiyera’s Veil and Maiden’s Gate hung in the air, dampening their hair and making small halos of rainbow-kissed light around each of the torches. “What happened while we were away?”
“We intercepted a raiding party shortly after nightfall.” The tall trees lining the walk gave way to neatly trimmed shrubs, topiaries, and flower boxes edging the pearl gray buildings of Upper Orest. “They made it through the outer gates undetected. If not for the wards on the inner walls, we never would have discovered them.” Dev pushed open the leaded glass door of the conservatory that served as his command post. “Three Mages, twenty Black Guard…and sixdahl’reisen.”
Rain stopped in his tracks and turned to Gaelen. “Yours?” The infamous formerdahl’reisenhad spent most of the last thousand years leading a band of banished Fey he called the Brotherhood of Shadows. He’d be leading them still if Ellysetta hadn’t restored his soul.
Faint color bloomed in Gaelen’s cheeks, but he held Rain’s hard stare without wavering. “Four of them were at one time,” he admitted. “They disappeared on reconnaissance missions into Eld. The other two weren’t familiar to me.”
Instinct pushed Rain closer to Ellysetta. The thought ofdahl’reisencoming within ten miles of her made his hands ache for the weight of his steel. “So it seems not all in your Brotherhood are as committed to protecting the Fading Lands as you thought them to be.”
«Rain,» Ellysetta chided softly. Her fingers brushed the back of his wrist.
Gaelen’s ice blue gaze flickered briefly as he noted the gesture. “Nei, kem’falla, it’s all right. The Feyreisen is right to doubt.” He lifted his chin, and his eyes narrowed. “Those in the Brotherhoodarecommitted, Tairen Soul, but they are stilldahl’reisen. Even when I was one of them, I never forgot that.”
“Meaning you can’t trust them.” That remark came from Tajik vel Sibboreh, the red-haired former general of the eastern Fey armies who now served as the Water master of Ellysetta’s bloodsworn quintet. Tajik had survived a millennium as arasa, one of the haunted, soul-burdened Fey on the cusp of turningdahl’reisen, tormented by the lives he’d taken but desperately clinging to honor by a thread, refusing to take that last step that would tip his soul into Shadow. Because of that, Tajik had little liking or sympathy for Gaelen—he certainly didn’t trust him—and he rarely missed an opportunity to get in a dig.
“Meaning trust, but not blindly,” Gaelen countered. “I knew when I formed the Brotherhood that some would go astray, but I thought it better to save nineteen and lose one than see the full score slip down the Dark Path.”
“So were thesedahl’reisenMage-claimed, or were they serving the Eld willingly?” Rain asked. Tightness crept over Gaelen’s features, and Rain had his answer. “I see—”
“Not everydahl’reisenwho joins us chooses to stay. And before you ask,nei, we don’t open our doors to every dishonored blade cast out of the Fading Lands.Dahl’reisenwe may be, but warriors truly bereft of honor were never welcome in our company.”
“Says thedahl’reisenwho slaughtered every man, woman, and child in an entire Eld clan,” Tajik muttered.
