Crown of Crystal Flame (50 page)

Power coalesced, blazing blue-white between her palms. She poured it forth, not in a great globe of power like the Mages did, but in a continuous, boiling jet, like tairen fire.

Mage Fire spewed from Ellysetta’s hands, and spilled across the battlefield from the walls of Orest to the allied lines in the east. It consumed revenants and the enemy forces fleeing the lava-ribboned volcano that had been Orest and gouged deep furrows into the earth.

«Shei’tani, nei.»

The tairen beneath her tried to bank, to turn her away, but she seized him with her power and forced him to her will. He flew where she bid him.

A voice was screaming in her head. Whether hers or his, she didn’t know, and she didn’t care. She wrapped herself in a weave of silence and kept pouring her wrathful river of Mage Fire upon the Elden army.

Vadim Maur watched the blazing, blue-white fire consuming everything in its path. Even the mass destruction of his great army couldn’t stop the pride and savage satisfaction that surged through him at the sight.

“You wonderful, magnificent girl,” he breathed. And with a crow of delight, using the bonds that already connected their souls as a conduit to keep her from absorbing his magic, he sent a concentrated weave of Azrahn stabbing into her soul.

He expected her to scream and flinch back as she had every time before, but instead a great force like nothing he’d ever felt suddenly fixed its gaze upon him. Power ripped through him.
Her
power. Purest Azrahn of a magnitude he never knew could exist. It plundered him, assaulted him, peeled him down to the smallest particle of a single cell, then put him back together again in the blink of an eye.

And even as his weave forged its fifth Mark upon her soul, her own weave stabbed him through to his core and seared every layer of his body and soul, leaving not just a Mark, but a smoldering brand.

His knees went weak. His bowels turned to water. She had Marked him.
She
had Marked
him.

Vadim Maur grabbed the tent pole for support. Her power ripped from him the way a female tairen might retract her tail spike from the still-twitching body of her prey, but he knew she wasn’t done. He could still feel her eye upon him, dread and merciless. He felt her gather her power for another strike and for the first time in centuries, he whispered, “Gods, help me.”

His savior came from as unlikely a source as the one he’d called upon.

An Elf streaked across the sky on a white Aquiline charger. Light blazed from the Elf’s upraised hand, and the beam fell upon Ellysetta Baristani like a shaft of concentrated sunlight. Now Ellysetta reared back in the way she hadn’t done when Vadim Marked her, and the terrible force of her power turned away from the Mage, freeing him to sink helplessly to his knees.

“Master Maur! Master Maur, look!”

He lifted his head, gasping weakly for breath, and muttered a curse at the sight that greeted him. Sailing up the Heras, with
nyatheri
leaping through the black waters like silver-blue mermaids, came an Elvian armada, dozens of ships, silver sails filled with the air of a self-propelling wind, carrying thousands more Elves to join the battle. The trees on both shores bowed and danced in the ships’ wakes as the
dryatheri,
the Danae tree spirits, aboard the Elvish vessels awakened the forests to their call.

Screams rose from the Elden shores as tree branches wound around Eld like serpents, crushing bones to powder, and large tree trunks opened up to swallow men whole. Soldiers drowned where they stood as seductive sirens rose from river’s edge, enveloped them in an entrancing embrace, and took their lips in a kiss that filled their lungs with water. Others mindlessly followed the beckoning calls of beautiful mermaids and plunged into the Heras where
nyatheri
wrapped them in water vines and dragged them to the bottom of the river.

Vadim wanted to scream with rage. How could the day of his long-planned triumph have gone so horribly wrong? Two-thirds of his magnificent army was destroyed. The dragons were dead. Orest was an active volcano. The Elves and Danae had arrived in force. And Vadim’s Mage-Marked future vessel had just made him soil himself.

But even as he gnashed his teeth in fury, cool reason was already taking over.

No Eld became High Mage without the courage to take a risk. But neither did he stay High Mage without learning to differentiate between risk and foolishness. And this High Mage knew the value of a strategic retreat.

All was not lost. Ellysetta Baristani still bore his Marks, he now had her sisters as well as her parents. When she came for them, he would be waiting. She only needed one more Mark. Just one, and then she and all her magnificent, unprecedented power would be his. And the world would tremble before his immortal greatness.

“Kron, sound the alarm. Evacuate Boura Dor. Everyone into the Well. We’re retreating to Boura Fell.”

Behind the Fey lines, protected by warriors who could call their magic once more, Rain knelt on the ground, holding Ellysetta in his arms.

The Elvian Commander who had called herself Silver-leaf knelt beside him. The palm of her right hand no longer blazed sun-bright with the magic she had poured into Ellysetta, but Rain now knew who she was. A Seer of Elvia, just as she’d claimed. Elves truly didn’t lie, after all. But she was also Elvia’s queen, Illona Brighthand, the Lady of Silvermist, sister to Galad Hawksheart.

“Why would you hide who you were?” he asked.

Illona glanced up. “Does it matter?”

He grimaced. Why did Elves do half the things they did? “I suppose not. But will you at least tell me what happened back there, with Ellysetta?”

The Elf made a soft, regretful sound. “Your mate just faced a truth many of us are lucky never to know. She found out just what she was capable of.”

His hackles rose immediately. “You will not tell me she is evil,” he interrupted. Even though she had seized his body and controlled him like a puppet on strings, he would not—could not—think the worst. “She is not. She is bright and shining.”

“Very bright,” the Elf agreed. “But as capable as she is of good, if she falls to Darkness, she will be equally capable of evil. You do her no favor by refusing to acknowledge that. Especially after today, when she had a glimpse of what she could become.”

Ellysetta stirred in Rain’s arms. Her eyes were still closed as she murmured, “I told you there was evil in me. I told you it was winning.”

“Bayas,
it is not unless you will it so.” Illona laid her namesake hand on Ellysetta’s hair. “Look at me, Ellysetta Erimea.” When Ellysetta opened her eyes, the Elf continued, her voice brisk and stern, “I came here—I brought my Elves to your aid—because I did not want to see you fall. Was my faith in you misplaced? Will you give in so easily?”

“Easily?” Rain jumped to her defense. “You don’t know what she’s been through.”

“I do know,” Illona corrected in a sharp voice. “I am Elfkind, and I have watched, just as my brother has done. I know exactly what she has suffered and for how long. But the Dark cannot claim what Light does not surrender.”

“She has surrendered nothing. She has fought more bravely than most, suffered torments few can even imagine, and still her heart is kind, her soul bright and shining.” Rain bent his head and pressed his lips against Ellysetta’s hair. “We are together, Ellysetta. We are unharmed. No matter what happened today, we are still together. We still hold to the Light, and we always will.”

“Will we?” Ellysetta’s hand curled around his wrist. “I Marked the High Mage.”

His mouth went dry. “You what?”

“After he Marked me, I Marked him back. It’s a bit like forging a truemate bond, except with none of the love.” She looked up at him, and there was such weary acceptance in her eyes, such increasing despair, it made him want to weep.

“Apparently, I’m not just a
shei’dalin
and a Tairen Soul, I’m also a Mage.”

Rain moistened his lips and looked up at the Elf queen. “Is she? A Mage?” He couldn’t believe he was practically begging an Elf for answers, but when it came to helping and protecting Ellysetta, he was discovering there wasn’t a whole lot he wouldn’t do.

“If she chooses to be,
anio.
She has the power to become one. But just because you
can
wield magic like a Mage, Ellysetta, that doesn’t mean you must.” The Elf queen sat back on her heels. “That is the other reason I came to you—to give you a truth my brother was unwilling to share. He has tried for many years to deny it, but the fact is that no one—not even Galad, with all his skill and power—can See with certainty the outcome of your Song. He cannot because you are a force rarely born to a world, something we Elves call
leinah thaniel,
the Song that sings all Songs, the Mirror that shows all Mirrors, the Change that changes everything.”

“What does that mean?” Rain was so tired of Elvish mysticism. He just wanted answers, plain and simple.

“It means your mate holds within herself a divine spark, the power to do the unexpected, to change her Song and the Songs of others, just as she has already done many times.” The Elf turned her gaze upon Ellysetta. “It means there is no ‘meant to be’ for you. There is only ‘choose to be.’ So choose wisely, Ellysetta Erimea. Much depends on it.”

Illona Brighthand stood. “You know, in your heart, what is right. You proved that to me earlier today when you would not force the spirits of your
lu’tan
to your service. Trust in yourself—and know that the right path is rarely the easiest.” She looked west and her eyes took on a deep, mysterious shimmer. “You both should go. The Fey need you in Dharsa.”

“What about Orest?” Rain asked.

“The Eld are retreating. Your mate killed most of the revenants and my brother’s Elves have arrived with the Danae. We will help your friends here to end this battle. Dharsa is where you are now needed most.”

The Fading Lands ~ Dharsa
11
^th
day of Seledos

Spurred by Illona, Rain and Ellysetta flew as fast as wings and magic could carry them. With the Mists down, they soared, unimpeded, over the Rhakis mountains, flying over the pass of Revan Oreth and giving the remaining revenants there a good scorching before continuing onward across the eastern desert and the Plains of Corunn.

They arrived with the dawn at the Shining City of the Fey. But instead of the raging battle they were expecting, they found the aftermath of one.

The jewel of the Fading Lands lay in ruins. Dharsa’s buildings were shattered and smoking, their pristine white stones charred black. Scorched, leafless orchards dotted burned hillsides. Instead of jasmine and honeyblossom, the city smelled of smoke and death.

As they flew towards the palace, they could see Fey dragging the bodies of the dead invaders into a pile while six tairen took turns flaming the corpses to harmless ash. Elsewhere, other Fey carried their fallen brothers and sisters to the gardens, where quintets had gathered to send the bodies back to the elements.

“I don’t understand,” Ellysetta said as she and Rain landed in the tairen’s courtyard near the Hall of Tairen and he Changed back into Fey form. “I thought the Elf queen said we were needed here.”

“You
are
needed here.” Marissya and Dax stepped into the courtyard. Sol Baristani and, to Ellysetta’s surprise, the Elf Fanor Farsight followed close on their heels. “The Fading Lands will always need its Tairen Souls. And with the Mists down, we need you now more than ever.”

“Papa.” Bypassing the others, Ellysetta headed straight for her father and melted in his arms. She breathed the beloved aroma of his pipe smoke and was instantly transported back to the days of her childhood, when she lived surrounded by her family and secure in the warmth of her parents’ love. Tears gathered and she let them fall. “We will get them back, Papa. I promise you. Rain and I will find a way.”

“I know you will.” His hands patted her back. “For now, I’m just glad to see you safe, Ellie-girl.” He pulled back and smiled through his own teary eyes.

With an arm around her father’s waist, Ellysetta turned to watch Rain greet Fanor Farsight, the Deep Woods Elf.

“Farsight. I did not expect to see you here after Hawks-heart said he could not help us.”

One of Fanor’s brows arched slightly. “Lord Galad said he could not join your battle against the High Mage. He never said he would not aid the Fey in Dharsa.”

“They arrived in time to help the tairen rout the Mages,” Dax said. “Unfortunately, the city had already been breached.
Dahl’reisen,
Black Guard, and a host of Mages got through. We lost hundreds, but it would have been thousands without the warriors who stayed behind as Tenn commanded. They kept the Eld at bay until the tairen and Elves arrived. Nurian and Yulan were killed in the fighting, and their mates passed into the Veil with them. Tenn nearly perished as well, but Marissya and Venarra managed to keep him alive. He’s in the Hall of Truth and Healing now, helping his mate look after the wounded.”

“He knew we were coming?” Rain asked.

“Aiyah.”

“And he did not call for armed Fey to defend the Fading Lands against its
dahl’reisen
king?”

“You are
dahl’reisen
no longer. Sybharukai spoke to him herself. She told him the Fey’Bahren pride had chosen the next leader of the Fading Lands and that it was not him. She also told him that his brother, Johr Feyreisen, had already singled you out to be trained for leadership so that you might one day ascend the throne.”

“I never knew that.” Rain shook his head in wonder. “So that convinced him? Learning that his brother had been considering me for the throne?”

Dax snorted. “I think the kicker was when Sybharukai told him that the tairen would drive from the Fading Lands any people who reviled or threatened you or Ellysetta.”

His brows shot up. “She said that?”

“Ai
-yah,”
Dax confirmed with grinning emphasis. “You should have seen Tenn’s face when she bared her fangs and growled, ‘Tairen defend the pride.’ I swear, he near wet himself.”

“Dax,” Marissya chided, “you should not take such delight in that. Tenn has served this kingdom well for centuries.”