Crown of Crystal Flame (21 page)

Ellysetta flung weaves and Air and Fire everywhere his flame had not scorched. She cried out and her weaves cut off just as Rain felt the prickle of arrows pepper his hide. He spun away, roaring with fury. She’d been arrow-shot.

«Shei’tani?»

She clung to his back, leaning low over the saddle front.

«I’m fine.»

But she wasn’t. Two
sel’dor
-barbed arrows had buried themselves deep in her back, and he felt them as plainly as if it were his own back burning with their foul acid. Just the effort to speak to him on Spirit racked her slender body with pain.

They had wounded his mate! He screamed his Rage, and tairen fury turned his vision scarlet.

Before he could circle back and fire the rest of the castle, a third volley of spears burst from a line of cannon hidden in the surrounding forest. He banked instinctively in a tight, northward wheel, but the spears came too fast. Fresh black agony ripped through his right shoulder and back leg.

He tumbled through the air, losing altitude faster than he was losing blood. His tattered wings fought for balance, but every powerful flap shredded muscles against the razor-sharp shards of
sel’dor
in his flesh. His right wing, impeded by the spear piercing his shoulder, could not keep up with his left, and he careened helplessly northward, towards Eld.

«Rain! Look!»

Below, he saw what had previously escaped his notice: Eld soldiers, thousands of them, massing beneath camouflage netting draped between the trees. They raced out from beneath their cover, and sunlight glinted off their armor and unsheathed weapons. A company of archers loosed a hailstorm of arrows. He spun what protection he could around Ellysetta’s own shield and fired a path through the dark cloud of
sel’dor
missiles. He put on a burst of speed as he passed the archers, trying to outpace their second volley, but a Mage must have been accelerating their shots. Arrows tore through the tattered membranes of his wings and sank into his hide. He heard Ellysetta’s pained gasp as two of the missiles pierced their shields and buried themselves in her leg.

He saw the Eld running in pursuit as he plummeted down a faltering glide path.
«Hold on, Ellysetta!»

The trees rose up quickly—too quickly—and he cannoned into them, tucking his wings tight against his back as he smashed through the treetops. Desperately, roaring in pain when the
sel’dor
punished his use of magic, he threw a protective web around Ellysetta just before he lost control and went tumbling downward. He felt Ellysetta being flung from the saddle and heard her cry out, but there was nothing he could do to stop her fall. He crashed through the forest, shattering massive trunks with his tumbling body. His wingbones snapped, but even that searing pain was nothing compared to the agony of the
sel’dor
buried in his flesh or the worse agony of Ellysetta’s scream as she fell to earth. His paws flexed, claws extending to dig into the trees, the ground, and even solid rock to slow his momentum.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of destruction, his battered tairen’s body came to rest against a small copse of fragrant brindlewood tree. Tiny yellow leaves drifted down upon him in a shower of bright winter fragrance.

The Faering Mists

Stinging little pinpricks roused Lillis back to consciousness and she looked down to find her kitten, Snowfoot, kneading her chest with his tiny, sharp claws. The pouch tied around her neck that had secured the kitten had slung off to one side during her fall, which explained why she hadn’t noticed the kitten earlier.

Snowfoot mewed piteously and nudged his head against her hand, the way Love, the kitten, always had when she was hungry or thirsty.

“I’m sorry,” Lillis whispered. Her voice came out scratchy and hoarse. “I’m so sorry.” More helpless tears trickled from the corners of her eyes. Snowfoot was hers to care for, and she couldn’t do any more to save the kitten than she could to save herself.

Lillis started to sob again, then stopped because it hurt too much. She’d never been this alone or this badly wounded or this frightened. Always someone had been there to watch over her and protect her and keep her safe from harm—Mama, Ellie, Papa, Kieran, even Lorelle.

Lorelle would never just lie down and die. Lorelle was the strong one, the fearless one. Lillis could almost hear Lorelle now, irascible and impatient. “Stop sniveling, you ninnywit. What good has that ever done anyone?”

Thinking of her twin made Lillis’s tears flow faster. For all that Lorelle could be snappish and bossy, there was no one in the world Lillis was closer to. She couldn’t think of a single time in her life when they’d been apart for more than a few bells. Until now.

Lillis squeezed her eyes shut and tried again to contact her twin.
Lorelle… Lorelle, can you hear me?
It wasn’t magic, exactly. Not magic the way the Fey spun it, in any case. It was more like sharing thoughts—as if some part of them had been united in the womb and never fully separated.

Again and again, she called her twin, but Lorelle didn’t respond. It occurred to Lillis that perhaps Lorelle had not survived the destruction of the mountain—that she had perished as Lillis herself was so close to doing—but as quickly as that awful thought surfaced, she shoved it away, out of her mind. No, Lorelle was alive. She had to be. Maybe the magic of the Mists did something to silence their connection. Or maybe Lorelle was living in some happy illusion like the one that had nearly trapped Lillis.

She tried calling Papa, but that didn’t work either. She hadn’t really expected it to. If Lorelle couldn’t hear her, it was highly unlikely Papa would. Her call to Ellie met the same silence as all the others.

Finally, in desperation, she reached out to the last living person with whom she shared a connection: Kieran vel Solande. Surely, if anyone could break the power of the Faering Mists and find her, Kieran could.

Assuming he was still alive.

“You are alive,” she muttered. “I know you are. I know it.”
Please, gods, let him still be alive.
She clenched her jaw and gathered her strength, her last ounce of hope, and all the emotions she associated with Kieran: The way he made her feel so safe. The joy when he—or rather the illusion of him—had turned in that city in the valley of Mists and that familiar, dazzling smile had broken across his face. The love that blossomed in her heart whenever he was near.

Fusing those energies together, weaving them into her call the way she’d secretly spun magic all her life, she flung the cry out into the Mists, praying for the gods to grant it wings.
Kieran! Help me. Pease, help me.

The effort was too much. Darkness closed in upon her. She was so weak. So tired. As if sensing Death creeping near, Snowfoot began to mew more loudly.

A clatter of pebbles sounded overhead, and dirt showered down upon her face. A weak, painful cough racked her frame.

“Lillis!”

A muffled voice echoed in her ears, tinny yet strangely familiar. Light turned the inside of her closed eyelids rosy. With effort, she cracked open her eyes. Images swirled slowly into focus. Faces hovered over her, surrounded by a glow of light. Blue eyes burning with fear and concern held her gaze as strong, familiar hands reached for her.

She breathed his name on a weary sigh as her lashes fell shut again, and the light faded. “Kieran.”

Eld ~ The Forests North of the Heras River

Ellysetta sat up and pressed both hands against her head. The world was spinning drunkenly, and she was so dizzy she could barely sit upright. Flung free of the saddle, she’d gone flying through the air and into the evergreen branches of a large conifer. She’d crashed and tumbled through the branches, losing all sense of balance and direction until the ground rose up to smack her in the face.

She spat out dirt and blood, then wiped the back of her hand against her mouth and took inventory of her injuries. Long, bleeding scratches scored the exposed skin of her hands and face, but her shielding weave and leathers had saved her from more serious wounds from the fall. Her hair bristled with leaves and splinters from broken tree limbs.

She started to draw her legs up in order to stand, but pain lanced up her left leg. She cried out and clutched her thigh. Her hand came away covered in blood. The arrows that had struck her thigh and back had been ripped out during the fall.

She held her hands over the gash in her leg and spun a healing weave to stop the bleeding, hissing as fragments of
sel’dor
burned beneath her skin. The barbs from the Elden arrows had broken off inside her leg, but there was nothing she could do about them now. She left the barbs in place and sealed the skin over them.

The instant the leg was healed enough to stand on, she got to her feet and sent out a narrow, questing thread of Spirit.
«Rain?»

He didn’t answer, but his trail was plainly marked by the line of shattered trees and debris from his crashing descent. Pain shot up her leg as she took her first hobbling step towards him, but she gritted her teeth and forced herself to endure it.

She’d seen the Elden army as she and Rain had fallen out of the sky. She knew they weren’t far behind, and she knew that the Eld would already be combing the woods. Any chime now, they’d reach this very spot and follow the crash path directly to her mate.

She pressed her palm against her leg and hobbled faster.
«Rain, I’m coming.»
Desperation gave her the strength to ignore the pain and begin to run. She vaulted clumsily over small downed trees and ran around several larger ones.

When she finally caught sight of Rain, motionless, still tairen, covered by a blanket of yellow leaves, her breath stalled in her lungs.

“Rain!” Adrenaline shot through her. She covered the remaining distance between them at a full-out sprint and fell to her knees beside him. Her hands plunged into his thick fur at his neck, seeking a pulse. “Don’t be dead. Please, don’t be dead.”

A rattling breath wheezed out of him.
«Not… dead… yet.»
Pain accompanied the faltering thread of Spirit, muted but still sharp enough to make Ellysetta clench her teeth.

She smoothed her hands over him, trying desperately to hide her terror as her hands came away drenched in blood.
Sel’dor
-filled wounds didn’t bleed, but he’d taken enough glancing blows and external injuries from the crash that the ground beneath him was rapidly becoming a blood-soaked pool.

«Rain… can you Change?»
She hated to ask. If he were so injured that a simple Spirit weave felt like knife blades on bone, the powerful, concentrated magic required by the Change would likely kill him.
«I need to get you somewhere so I can get the sel’dor out of you and heal you, but we can’t hide while you remain tairen.»

His eyes opened slightly.
«Leave… me.»

She reared back. Did he think her such a coward that she would save her own life at the expense of his? “I can’t leave you to die, Rain. I won’t.”

«I distract… you flee.»

“That’s not an option. The Fey and the tairen need you.” She stroked his face and stared urgently into his pain-dulled eyes. “I need you.”

«You can survive… my death.»
Bloody bubbles foamed at his nostrils. His lungs were filling. He was dying already, and they both knew it.
«Run. Mages… cannot take you… »

He meant it. She could feel his sincerity. He wanted her to leave him here to die. He thought she actually could.

“Don’t be a ninnywit. I could never—ever—leave you, not for any reason.” She smoothed a hand down the soft, thick fur of his massive tairen jaw. “Whatever choices we make, we make together. Whatever fate, we face it together.” She blinked back tears and infused her voice with what she hoped was convincing sternness. “So, unless you want us both to be guests of the High Mage before nightfall, we need to get out of here. Now, can you Change?” The Eld would be here soon, and all chance for escape would be lost.

«Nei. Too much sel’dor.»
A cough shook his tairen’s body. His eyes closed, and for a moment she feared he was slipping away from her.

“Then I’ll have to remove as much as possible so you can.”

Several of the bolt shafts and arrows had sheared off during his crash, but quite a few still remained. They stuck out from his flesh like obscene quills. The bowcannon missiles ranged in size from spears the diameter of her arm to the two thick bolts as wide as tree trunks that protruded from his chest and rear leg.

She stood up and took hold of one of the thinner spear shafts lodged in a foreleg.

«Must push… not pull… spears barbed.»

“I know.” She’d removed enough
sel’dor
arrows from wounded warriors to know what to expect. Of course, none of those warriors had been Rain.

She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath.
Steady, Ellysetta. You can do this. You must do this.
She took hold of the spear shaft, planted her feet, pushed with all her might.

The spear moved, slowly sliding deeper into Rain’s flesh with a squishing sound that made her stomach lurch. She tried to weave away what pain she could, but there was so much
sel’dor
in his body and hers that the attempt only injured them both.
“Sieks’ta, shei’tan. Sieks’ta.
Forgive me, I’m so sorry.”

The spearhead gave a muffled screech as it scraped against bone. The sound jolted every nerve in her body, and Rain’s pain roared through her. Nausea rose sharply, dousing her with sudden clammy weakness. She spun away and lost her breakfast in the dirt.

When she lifted her head a flash of movement caught her eye. The Eld had discovered the swath of broken and shattered trees in Rain’s crash path. Black-armored Elden soldiers were pouring from the woods two miles away.