“You haven’t heard then?” Dax said.
“Heard what?” Kieran asked.
“Bel sent word on a private weave this morning. Rain and Ellysetta were shot down over Eld yesterday. No one’s heard from them since.”
Celieria ~ Dahl’reisen Village in the Verlaine Forest
Thedahl’reisencarried the unconscious bodies of the Tairen Soul and his mate to a small cabin not far from the smithy. There, Sheyl scrubbed their wounds clean ofsel’dorpowder before slowly and painstakingly removing each ragged shred of the black Elden metal from their bodies.
She regretted the brutal but necessary weave that had robbed both Fey of their senses. She knew the Tairen Soul’s hesitant trust in hisdahl’reisenrescuers would be gone when he woke, but after witnessing how difficult it had been for him and his mate to suffer the removal of their manacles, she’d suspected the surgery to remove theirsel’dorshrapnel would have been beyond their capacity to endure. The Mages had engineeredsel’dorto block Fey magic, cause immense pain, and resist efforts to remove it. Not even powerful Fey healers could coaxsel’dorout of flesh using magic, and there was no magic—regardless of how powerful—that could completely weave away the pain. Neither she nor Farel was willing to risk having their village destroyed by a Tairen Soul driven mad by his truemate’s pain.
She worked on the Tairen Soul and his mate for bells, opening wounds with a razor-sharp black Fey’cha, digging about with long steel pincers to remove thesel’dorfragments, then probing with bare fingers to make certain she’d gotten it all before healing the damage both she and the Eld weapons had caused. Two other village women with healing talents assisted her.
By the time she was done, the small steel bowl beside the raised surgery cots was filled with bloody black metal ranging from small pea-size bits to long, dagger-length shards. Sheyl had seen more than her share of wounds filled withsel’dorshrapnel, and she was amazed that Rain Tairen Soul had even managed to survive, let alone retain his faculties, with that much of the poison metal in his body.
It was a testament to his strength and endurance—and to his mate’s powerful magic. She’d probably been healing him from the moment he was first struck, though it was obvious neither of them was aware of it. Sheyl had seen it clearly the moment they rode into the village, the Light flowing from Ellysetta into her mate, the shadows of pain and death flowing out of him back into her. Without her, he would almost certainly have died.
Sheyl closed the last of the Tairen Soul’s wounds and laid another weave upon the matepair to guarantee they would sleep the night. Ellysetta’s Light was too dim for Sheyl’s liking, and she needed uninterrupted rest to recuperate. Only then did Sheyl open the door and admit the other village women waiting outside.
The women bustled in and began the familiar task of making Sheyl’s patients comfortable after their surgery. They deftly stripped the remaining clothing from the unconscious Fey couple and washed them thoroughly with warm water and soap to cleanse away all traces of blood and grime.
“Sheyl.” One of the women summoned her to Ellysetta’s side. “Look.”
The woman was standing over Ellysetta, holding a curling black spiral of Azrahn in her palm. On Ellysetta’s left breast, just over her heart, four shadowy points lay like a ring of bruises against her pale, luminous flesh.
Sheyl recognized the Marks instantly. Memory—premonition—flashed. A cry of denial rose up in her heart, but her expression remained carefully blank.
“What are we going to do? Four Marks. Her presence puts us in terrible danger.”
“Calm yourself. She’s been unconscious almost the entire time. Even if the Mage was watching through her eyes, he couldn’t have seen much.”
“Farel will still want to know.”
“And I will tell him,” Sheyl assured her. “Now finish drying them, and have the men carry them to the top room. Tell Imrion and his brothers to spin a weave around the cabin to block what they can of thedahl’reisen’spain from the Feyreisa. Shutter the windows and post guards at the door. I will take their armor and leathers to be cleaned and mended.” She gathered up the discarded pile of golden armor and studded red leather and let herself out of the cabin.
Farel was waiting for her across the yard. His face was as blank as hers. She wasn’t ready to face him yet, so she turned away and carried the armor and leathers to a small cabin farther down the main village thoroughfare. She gave them to another of the village women and stayed to chat. He waited, patient as time itself, until she abandoned her attempt at procrastination and went to him.
When she reached his side, he held out his hand, uncurling his fingers to reveal a black Fey’cha.
“When we recovered the Tairen Soul’s steel from the Eld, Rythiel found this.” In a swift, practiced motion, Farel flipped the blade to show her the Fey markings emblazoned in the pommel.
Sheyl recognized the name symbol instantly. “That’s Gaelen’s mark.”
“I found it with several others, all bloodsworn. They are hers. The Tairen Soul allowed adahl’reisen—and not just anydahl’reisenbut Gaelen vel Serranis—to bloodswear to his truemate. How can that be, Sheyl?”
“Have you asked Gaelen?”
“He will not answer. I told him they were safe, that I had brought them here as he commanded. All he would say was that we must protect her from the Eld even if it costs the life of every man, woman, and child in this village.”
Because of that, she almost didn’t tell him about the Mage Marks on Ellysetta’s chest. Though she had loved him all her life and told him more than she ever revealed to another living being, there were still many things she kept from him. Some things no person should have to know. But another woman had seen the Marks first, and Sheyl knew it would not remain secret for long.
“She bears Mage Marks.”
Farel was rarely caught off guard, but this time his mouth almost fell open. “What?” “Four of them.”
His brows snapped together. “Then why would Gaelen command us to bring her here? Her mere presence endangers us all.”
“I don’t know.”
