The Mage watched her with cold eyes. “I don’t usually take such precautions with my female guests, but experience has taught me not to underestimate you.”
She licked her dry lips. “I know what you want. You will not have it. I’ll die before I surrender my soul to you.”
The edge of his mouth lifted in a sneer. “Such brave words. The Fey are always brave at first. But even the greatest among them has a weakness, and you, my dear, have many.” He snapped his fingers, and two burly guards stepped forward. They hauled her unceremoniously up, releasing her manacles from the chains that had bound her to the bed and setting her on her feet.
«Rain!»She tried to call him on their private path, but her body suddenly convulsed in agony. A scream ripped from her throat, and she dropped to the ground. She lay there, shuddering and gasping for breath as she waited for the pain to recede.
“They all try that, too,” the Mage informed her. “I don’t advise it. I’ve bound you in moresel’dorthan any other guest of mine has ever borne.”
When the worst of the pain had passed, and she could move again, Ellysetta lifted her head and glared at him. “What have you done with Rain?” He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be dead. She’d know if he were—wouldn’t she?
“Oh, he’s here, never fear. And you shall see him, I promise. In fact, I’m rather looking forward to it. But first things first.” He glanced at the guards and all pretense of civility—gloating or otherwise—dropped away. Silver eyes glittered with cold command. “Bring her.”
The guards hauled Ellysetta to her feet by her chains and shoved her after the High Mage of Eld.
When the news first reached theumagidens about the Fey captured trying to invade Boura Fell, a communal groan went up. Theskrantsknew what new prisoners meant: more mouths to feed, more bodies to dispose of, more torture chambers to scrub clean of blood, vomit, and the various other by-products of the Mage’s favorite pastime.
Only recently released from the punishment detail she’d earned for missing two whole work shifts while stealing Lord Death’s weapons and crystal, Melliandra had a different reaction: a gut-churning mix of excitement and terror.
Her time had come.
Unfortunately, the circumstances of that time were riskier than she’d ever imagined they could be. The same gossip who brought them the rumors about invaders also brought news that Lord Death and his mate had been moved to the observation chambers for the High Mage’s entertainment. He would be under heavy guard, and he would be constantly tortured, then healed, then tortured again. If she thought for one moment that she would get another chance to kill the High Mage, she wouldn’t even think about approaching Lord Death now. She would have waited until Lord Shan was back in his cell, manacled but otherwise unrestrained in his barbed cage.
Time, however, was a luxury she didn’t have. The other whispers in the Mage Halls were too rampant to be disbelieved. Among Vadim Maur’s new guests were the Tairen Soul and his mate. If Vadim Maur managed to claim a Tairen Soul’s power, nothing and no one would ever be able to defeat him again.
That meant she needed to free Lord Shan without delay. No matter how high the risk.
As the Mage led Ellysetta down the corridor, they passed a large, dark mirror hanging on one wall. The sight of her reflection made Ellysetta stumble. Everything about the reflection shining in the mirror’s dark surface came straight from one of her nightmares: herself, garbed in a boat-necked green gown, hair unbound and spilling about her shoulders,sel’dorbands clamped around throat, wrists, and ankles, walking in the company of a purple-robed Mage.
Fresh dread curled in her belly. She remembered the dream. Remembered what had happened in it.
Lillis and Lorelle.
She almost tried to reach for them, but the shredding agony of thesel’dorbonds reacting to her magic was too fresh in her mind.
The corridor wound around, and they reached a set of carved stone steps that curled downward into the bowels of the earth. The guards pushed her after the High Mage, and together, the four of them descended several flights, passing two sconce-lit landings that led off to other levels of the subterranean fortress.
They exited the stairs on the third level and walked down another series of corridors to an observation room. She could see different cells through the windows on either side of the room. Through the murky glass on the right, she saw a dark-haired Fey warrior being strapped down to a table. For an instant, she feared the warrior might be Rain, but when the Fey was pushed down onto his back for the final bindings, she saw his face.
Not Rain’s face, but not unfamiliar either. A face from her dreams. Her hands splayed instinctively against the glass in a gesture of horror and concern.
“I see you recognize my longtime guest.” The Mage took pleasure in her torment.
She wanted to say she’d never seen him before, but the lie stuck in her throat. She clamped her lips together and glared.
“The great Shannisorran v’En Celay, Lord Death. A legendary warrior of the Fey. Your father.”
Despite her effort to show no emotion, her chin trembled.
“And here.” The Mage walked to the opposite wall, where another viewing window looked into a different cell. A red-haired woman, her body covered in cuts and bruises and healing burns, was bound to a table just like the one in the other room. “Your mother, the beauteous Elfeya, though as you can see, she recently displeased me and was punished for it.”
Ellysetta clenched her jaw and closed her fingers into tight fists to hide the trembling of her hands. She knew what was coming. Her stomach churned with nausea at the prospect.
She turned away from the Fey parents she’d never known. They were, in most respects, utter strangers to her, but they’d suffered unspeakable torments to keep her from sharing their fate.
And she, in her desperation and misguided belief that she could outwit a master manipulator, had walked straight into Vadim Maur’s trap.
“A thousand years you’ve held them,” she told him bitterly. “A thousand years, you’ve tortured them without mercy. But they never gave in. Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think I don’t know they’d rather die than see me surrender my soul to save them?”
