Crown of Crystal Flame (51 page)

“I agree that he did—right up until he decided to banish its king and queen, at which time, in my opinion, he earned himself a hard beating with a dull blade. Sybharukai let him off easy.”

“I must thank her for coming to our defense,” Rain said. “But it is time to repair the damage this war has wrought—both on the city and among ourselves. There is much to be mended, on all sides.”

They spent all day doing just that, mending buildings and mending bridges with the Fey. Their first stop was the Hall of Truth and Healing, where Rain and Ellysetta met with Tenn and Venarra. The meeting was stiff and formal, but it passed without bloodshed or name calling. For a first step, that was enough.

They worked throughout the day, but with every wall they reconstructed, every weeping Fey they consoled, every stiff, cold-eyed warrior whose suspicions they allayed, Ellysetta realized that simply rescuing her sisters and parents from Eld wasn’t going to be enough. This Mage had to be stopped, and according to the Elves, she was the only one who could. Even if it cost her life.

Perhaps that was the real reason Illona Brighthand had sent them here. Not because Dharsa needed them, but because she needed Dharsa and the reminder that even though the war was over, her own battle was not yet done. Because Ellysetta needed a day without war to remember why it was necessary… and what she was fighting for.

“You said that when we defeated the Army of Darkness, we would go to Eld to save my parents,” Ellysetta reminded Rain as the afternoon drew to a close and the sun began to set. “That time has come. I don’t want my sisters, or my parents, to spend one more night than necessary in Eld hands. And I’m going with you.”

“Shei’tani.
… You know I would give you the stars from the heavens if you asked it of me, but this…” Shadows turned lavender eyes to brooding violet. “Our bond is not complete. You bear five Mage Marks.”

“If we don’t find a way to defeat him, I may someday bear six.” She framed his face in her hands. “I have to do this, Rain. It’s what I was born for.” The chime she said the words aloud, she knew they were true. “We are Tairen Souls,
shei’tan,
you and I both. We are Defenders not just of the Fey but of the Light, including the Light that shines in good people everywhere—in my sisters and my parents, in Celierians… in the poor people of Eld who never had a choice for any life but servitude and Darkness. This High Mage must be stopped. Not just defeated and left in peace to grow strong again, but vanquished. That is our purpose. That is why we were born.”

“We should consult
Shei’Kess.
Perhaps it will—“

“Nei.”
She shook her head and gave a sad smile. “The Eye can show us nothing we don’t already know. It’s what we feel here—” she tapped first her chest, then his, “—that matters. You heard the Elf queen. I am
leinah thaniel.
There are no fates I cannot change, but this fate is one I cannot change without you. You are my strength, Rain. You are the courage I’ve always lacked.”

He gave a choked laugh, and tears glittered in his eyes. “If I am your courage, then why does this idea of yours leave me so frightened?”

Her heart contracted, and she smiled at him, softly, through brimming eyes. “Because it
is
frightening,
kem’san.
Because it’s dangerous, risky, the odds so stacked against us it’s unlikely anyone could do this thing and live. And that’s why a Tairen Soul was born to do it—why we were born to do this.” She pressed her lips to his. “When a
feyreisen
finds his wings, he knows he was born to die protecting others. That is why we must go.”

He drew her closer, nestling her in his arms and leaning his head against hers. “When did you get so wise, Ellysetta
kem’reisa?”

Celieria ~ Orest
12
^th
day of Seledos

Rain and Ellysetta spent half the night in Dharsa, the other half in Fey’Bahren with the pride and the kitlings, who had grown a great deal in the last two months. In the morning, they flew back to Orest to meet with the
lu’tan
and devise a plan to rescue Ellysetta’s family and kill the High Mage of Eld.

Farel’s men had captured a wounded Mage and a handful of Eld soldiers, all of whom they held in a bubble of thirty-six fold weaves. A little Truthspeaking and the threat of being eaten alive by a tairen had encouraged the soldiers to talk. They told their captors about Vadim Maur’s main fortress where all magic-gifted prisoners were taken after their capture, and about how each Boura—each underground fortress of the Eld—contained a gateway to the Well of Souls that was kept open all the time.

The plan was to have one of the
dahl’reisen
open a portal and bring one of the Eld soldiers along to lead the Fey through the Well to wherever Ellysetta’s parents and sisters were being held. They would invade the Boura using the
dahl’reisen
invisibility weaves, free all the prisoners, and use Ellysetta’s connection to the High Mage to locate and kill him while they were there.

The “plan” had holes large enough to fly a tairen through—
nei,
an entire pride of tairen—but Rain couldn’t come up with anything better. So with a bit of instruction from the captured Mage, Farel successfully opened the portal to the Well of Souls. And into the Well, they went: Rain, Ellysetta, her quintet, a hundred
lu’tan,
and the Elden soldier as their guide.

The inside of the Well was an unpleasant place, dark and cold, full of whispers and distant shrieks and swirling pools of shadowy mist that the Eld advised them to avoid if they valued their lives. How he knew where to go, Ellysetta didn’t know, but later, it would occur to her that was a question she should have asked and gotten answered.

Because when they reached the gateway into Boura Fell, which appeared as a glowing red circle within the Well, their arrival did not come as the surprise they had intended. No sooner had they donned their invisibility weaves and slipped through the gateway into a large room, than the gateway closed behind them. A barrage of tiny darts and a burst of pale blue gas filled the air.

Ellysetta’s vision blurred, and the world tilted crazily. She and all the Fey fell, unconscious, to the stone floor.

Eld ~ Boura Fell

Ellysetta woke to the sickly sweet smell of rotting fruit and the taste of misery in her mouth. Her bones ached. Her flesh throbbed.

She could hear the moans of tortured creatures, feel the despair sapping her soul. This was a place without hope, without Light, and she knew she’d fallen into one of the Seven Hells.

Her muscles clenched, shuddering as the sting of a thousand icy knives stabbed into her soul. She swallowed, then coughed.

Sel’dor
cloaked her in bitter, burning pain. A collar of enslavement about her neck, manacles about her wrists and ankles.

Her lashes fluttered as she forced her eyes open. Expecting darkness, she was surprised to find herself in the center of a well-appointed room. Beautifully furnished—deceptively so, because beneath the silken surface, she could feel the acid burn of
sel’dor.

She turned her head, her gaze moving instinctively towards the corner of the room where a shrouded figure stood in the shadows. As the figure approached her, the formless shroud became rich purple Mage robes draped around a tall frame.

The Mage threw back his cowl, and Ellysetta frowned in confusion at the stranger standing by her bedside. She had expected the High Mage, the architect of her nightmares, with his cloud of white hair framing a face that seemed both ancient and ageless. But this Mage was young and fit and… handsome. That seemed so wrong. Evil shouldn’t wear a pleasing face.

Only the cold, silver eyes seemed familiar. That and the cruelty curled at the corner of his mouth.

Then he spoke, and though the sound of the voice was as unfamiliar as his face, the smug, conscienceless evil that resonated in every word was all too familiar. Whatever face he wore, whatever voice he used, this
was
the High Mage of Eld, the dark evil presence that had pursued and tormented her all her life.

“Welcome, my dear, to Boura Fell.”

“You’ve led me quite a chase for many years, but all that is at an end. You shall not escape me again.” The Mage’s expression was cool, his tone almost pleasant, but there was no mistaking the Darkness that shadowed his every word.

Ellysetta sat up with effort. The weight of her
sel’dor
bindings was so heavy she could barely move. She lifted her hands to the collar and brushed the backs of her fingers against the dozens of burning rings that pierced the lobes of her ears. Another half dozen armbands, lined with hundreds of sharp teeth, circled both arms with ropes of pain, and around her ankles, heavy manacles clamped tight, their sharp spikes driving into her bones.

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 more
sel’dor
than 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 the
umagi
dens about the Fey captured trying to invade Boura Fell, a communal groan went up. The
skrants
knew 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’dor
bands 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 the
sel’dor
bonds 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.