“Do you remember that time in Teleon, before we traveled through the Mists, when the seizure took her and she spoke the Warrior’s Creed?”
“Of course. It’s not something I would ever forget.”
“Well, what if the Mages did more than just tie the soul of a tairen to hers? What if they tied the soul of a Fey warrior to hers as well? It would explain how she can kill without suffering the way our women do. And how she knows the words to the Warrior’s Creed and throwsDesriel’chataand dances the Cha Baruk like a Fey who long ago heard the Warriors’ Gate whisper his name in greeting.”
“You are suggesting that the soul of myshei’tanihas been somehow…manufactured…by the Mages, pieced together from the souls of others. But you forget she is my truemate. That bond only the gods can forge between two souls.Nei.” He shook his head. “Nei, there must be some other explanation.” Rain turned to the Elf in their midst. “You Saw myshei’tani’s need to wield steel like a warrior—did you also see this?”
Fanor shook his head. “Anio, but you should ask your question of the Elf king. He who is Guardian of the Dance Sees many things lesser Seers do not.” The Elf waved a hand towards the crackling fire, where the spitted rabbits had turned golden crisp. “Come and eat. The food is ready, and we must ride again soon.”
The Faering Mists
The beautiful Fey lady guided Lillis through the steep cliff paths of the Rhakis. As if in deference to the lady’s presence, the Mists thinned while they walked so Lillis could see the tree-filled valley below.
“What is your name?” Lillis asked.
The lady smiled down at her and answered in Celierian. Her voice sounded like music. “You may call me Eiliss, little one.”
“That’s a pretty name. My name is Lillis. Where are we going?”
“Someplace where you will be safe.”
Lillis scrambled over a hillock. “You’re speaking Celierian now.”
“Because that is the language you speak.”
“Oh.” Lillis accepted the answer without question. “Have you seen my Papa or my sister, Lorelle?”
Eiliss brushed the backs of her fingers across Lillis’s cheek. “I have,ajiana. I’m taking you to them now.”
“Really?” Tears of relief pooled in Lillis’s eyes. “You mean they’re safe?”
“They are, and soon you’ll all be together. Will you like that?” The trail turned in a steep U and continued on downward another several tairen lengths before reaching the valley floor.
“Oh, yes.” Snowfoot was purring quietly against her chest. The comfort of Eiliss’s peaceful Fey presence soothed him, too. Lillis stroked the kitten’s downy fur and scratched beneath his tiny black chin. His eyes closed in bliss and his purring grew louder. “What about Kieran and Kiel? Are they safe, too?”
“Their fate is not mine to know, but if they entered the Mists, they will find the welcome due all warriors of the Fey.”
When Eiliss smiled into Lillis’s eyes as she was doing now, Lillis just knew everything would turn out all right. Her concern for Kieran and Kiel melted away like the fingerling curls of mist swirling around them.
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
Elvia ~ Deep Woods
“Do you think Gaelen is right about a warrior’s soul being tied to mine?”
Ellysetta and Rain walked along the crystalline banks of an indescribably beautiful Elvish river called the Dreamer, whose bed and banks were lined with sparkling cabochon jewels worn smooth by the river’s gentle current.
After their bell’s rest at lunchtime, they’d ridden hard and fast throughout the day, stopping only to rest and water their horses. They’d reached the river just before dusk and made camp. Tomorrow, they would cross the Dreamer and enter Deep Woods, the ancient forested heart of Elvia.
“You are a Tairen Soul,” Rain replied. “Most of your abilities can be explained by that fact.”
“But not the warrior’s skills.”
Ellysetta hadn’t touched another blade since lunchtime, half-afraid of what other deadly skills and disturbing revelations might come if she did. All afternoon, she’d felt the curious and speculative gazes of the Elves—and even her quintet—upon her. Once more, she had become an oddity, a mystery, a puzzle to be solved, and she hated it.
“It occurred to me that the High Mage could be a swords-master and that I know how to throw a blade because he does,” she confessed, when Rain didn’t answer immediately. “But he wouldn’t know the Cha Baruk, would he?” The tiny jewels that lined the riverbank like sand crunched beneath their boots as they walked.
“It is unlikely,” Rain said. “Chadintrain for three hundred years before they stand in the Dance as you did with Gaelen this afternoon.”
