Queen of Song and Souls (3 page)

"Thank you." Jonna wept, tears raining from her eyes. "Thank you for my son. Light's blessings upon you!"

Ellysetta found Rain's hand. He'd removed his gauntlets, and her fingers curled into the broad, warm strength of his.

His eyes flashed a warning at her, but to Jonna he offered only gentle understanding. "Sha
vel'mei,
Jonna," he said, his voice a deep, tough velvet purr. "You are both welcome. And you, Aartys..." He leveled a stern look on the boy. "I do not want to see you on the battlefield again. Your sword is sharp and your soul is brave, but I need you most here, guarding your mother and the Feyreisa." He clapped a hand on the child's shoulder. "There is no more honorable duty for a warrior of the Fey than to protect our women. Do you accept this great honor?
"

"You want me to help guard the Feyreisa?" The boy's eyes went big as coins. He cast a dazed glance at Ellysetta before turning back to Rain. "Aye, My Lord Feyreisen," he agreed. "I do accept."

"Kabei."
Good. Then it is decided. Sers vel Jelani and vel Tibboreh"—he tilted his head towards two of the grim-eyed Fey posted at the corners of Ellysetta's healing tent—"will explain your duties to you. For now, go with your mother and get some rest and a change of clothes."

"But the Feyreisa—" Aartys began.

"—will not need your protection at the moment, as she will be coming with me."

Eld ~ Boura Fell

Vadim Maur, the High Mage of Eld, shook off the flicker of awareness that had brushed across his senses and withdrew the part of his consciousness he'd sent into the Well. If the brief touch had been the girl, she was gone now, and the protections that barred him from her mind were firmly back in place. He could still sense her existence, but that was all.

"Master?" The timid, subservient voice near his left shoulder broke the silence. "What should I do with him?"

Vadim tightened his lips in irritation, then just as quickly relaxed the pressure when he felt the flesh split and warm liquid ooze down his shrouded chin. Wordless, he dabbed the edge of his deep purple hood against his mouth. His body had grown fragile these past weeks. The Rot had him firmly in its grip, and not even the ministrations of his powerful
shei'dalin
captives could hold it back any longer. Soon, the truth already suspected by most of his council would be impossible to hide.

His time was running out.

He gazed through the observation portal into the
sel'dor
cage with its wild-eyed inhabitant: a young man, the last of the four magically gifted infants to whom he'd tied the souls of unborn tairen seventeen years ago. The boy had shown full mastery in four of the five Fey magics, but only a middling level three in Spirit, so there'd never been any possibility of his becoming a Tairen Soul capable of summoning the Change. But his bloodlines were strong, and he'd proven quite adept at wielding Azrahn even in early childhood.

Vadim had been using him as a breeder, but recently, with the Rot advancing through Vadim's flesh and Ellysetta Baristani still so stubbornly elusive, he had seriously considered using the boy as the vessel to house the next incarnation of his soul. At least as a stopgap until the much more powerful Ellysetta finally found her way back into his keeping.

That plan was scuttled now. The boy had gone mad, just like the thousands of others to whom Vadim had grafted tairens' souls over the centuries. The madness usually began after adolescence, starting with voices only the afflicted could hear, then progressing to bouts of Rage, and finally complete savagery and destructive madness and death.

Of all the children to whom he'd bound the soul of a tairen, only Ellysetta had survived twenty-four years without a hint of insanity. That made her an invaluable prize, not only as a powerful vessel to hold Vadim's incarnated soul, but as the key to his long centuries of experimentation.

In the cell, the boy put his hands to his head. Shrieking unintelligible gibberish, he pulled great tufts of hair out by the roots and spun around the room, slamming his body against the wall and ripping at his own flesh.

Vadim's fingers curled in a fist. "Restrain him before he damages himself more. Continue to breed him as long as you can." Too many centuries had gone into the crossbreeding of magical bloodlines to throw the boy away without squeezing as much benefit from his existence as possible. "If he endangers the females, send him to Fezai Madia." The leader of the Feraz witches had been complaining lately over the quality of the slaves he'd been sending for her sacrifices to the demon-god Gamorraz. Insane this boy might be, but there was no denying the strong magic in his blood.

Leaving the observation room, he passed through the nursery and paused to glance into the two cradles resting against the wall. Two infants with bright, shining eyes stared up at him. Both boys, both already showing promise of mastering all Fey magics. Each had the soul of an unborn tairen grafted to his own. Would they go mad, too? Or had Vadim finally discovered the secret to successfully breeding Tairen Souls of his own?

Only time would tell. For now, they represented another generation of possibility, another opportunity to succeed in case Ellysetta Baristani continued to elude him ...

... or in case she fell prey to the same lethal insanity as her predecessors.

Celieria ~ Orest

"Where are we going?" Ellysetta asked as Rain dragged her away from the healing tents. Her quintet had started to follow, but one hot look from Rain had stopped them in their tracks.

"Someplace I can keep you out of trouble."

There was still a snap in his voice, so she offered a small peace offering. "You were good with Aartys."

He gave her a withering look, and her olive branch went quietly up in flames. "Do not attempt to soothe this tairen,
shei'tani.
You nearly died—or worse—and I will not overlook that."

She bit her lip. He was right. She’d gone too far into the Well, and something had been quite successfully pushing her to use her most dangerous magic. Still... this double standard her truemate imposed on her had gone on long enough.

"Why do you get to be angry, and I do not?"

He glared. "What do
you
have to be angry about?"

She stopped stock-still and yanked her hand from his grip. "Are you serious? I'm your
shei'tani
—your truemate—and you: can actually
ask
me that!" She didn't wait for him to reply. "How many times have you barely made it back to Orest alive? How many times have you crashed into Veil Lake, bloody and half-dead, limbs broken, flesh shredded, enough sel'dor arrows in you to supply an entire company of archers? Yet you expect me to patch you up and send you back to battle time and time again. You and every other warrior who ends up on my table."

"You are a
shei'dalin
. That is what
shei'dalins
do."

"Precisely! You fight out there." She jabbed a finger towards the scorched and still-smoking southwest corner of Eld. "Well,
that
is my battlefield." She turned and jabbed her finger back

at the healing tents. "And I’m every bit as determined to win my war as you. If that means I occasionally have to take risks—just like you do—then, by the gods, that's exactly what I'll do!"

"Over. My. Rotting. Corpse." His teeth snapped together with an audible click. He grabbed her wrist again and put on a burst of speed that forced her to jog to keep up with him.

The collection of bloodsworn black Fey'cha daggers strapped across her chest and around her hips slapped against her steel-embroidered scarlet robes as she ran, and the feeling of being a chastised child dragged along behind an irate parent only chafed her more.

"You're being unfair!" she exclaimed. "I may not have my wings yet, but I'm a Tairen Soul, too, Rain. I feel the same need to defend our people as you do. Just because the only enemy I can defend them against at the moment is death, that doesn't mean my efforts are any less vital than yours!"

His eyes glowed so bright they nearly shot purple sparks "Have I ever suggested they were? Have I not let Gaelen weave the forbidden magic for your use so you could save lives that would otherwise be lost? I do not object to your saving lives. But I will not allow you to risk your own in the process!"

"But—"

"
Enough
!" he thundered. "You don't have to like it, Ellysetta, but I am the Feyreisen—both your truemate and your king—
and on this matter, I will be obeyed!"

Ahead lay the open plaza near Veil Lake that Rain and the tairen used for launching and landing. Four majestic winged cats, each the size of a house, crouched on the manicured grass at the lakeshore. Their heads were extended as they lapped at the cold waters fed from Kiyera’s Veil, the gauntlet of three-hundred-foot waterfalls that tumbled down from opposing mountainsides at the lake's western shore.

When they reached the plaza, Rain slowed his pace. Ellysetta yanked her wrist from his grip a second time, marched to the mossy edge of the bricked space, and presented him her back. She pressed her lips in a thin line, angry at his highhandedness. For a woman who'd spent the first twenty-four years of her life as the shy, obedient daughter of a poor woodcarver and his wife, Ellysetta had become mulishly resistant to Voices of Authority. Even when those voices belonged to kings, wedded husbands, and beloved truemates. If Mama were still alive, she would shake her head in despair of her adopted daughter's willful ways.

By the lakeshore, the largest of the tairen, a great white beauty with eyes like glowing blue jewels, lifted her snowy, feline head and turned to pad towards them. Her long tail slapped against several tree trunks as she walked, bringing a shower of leaves raining down in her wake. When she reached the plaza, she spread her wide, clawed wings and reared up on her hind legs to shake the debris from her fur. A deep, throaty purr rumbled in her chest, and she tilted her head down to pin Ellysetta with a whirling, pupil-less blue gaze.

«You worried your mate, kitling,» admonished Steli,
chakai
of the Fey’Bahren pride. The musical tones of the tairen's speech danced in the air like flashes of silver and gold and carried with them feelings of panicked fear and images of Rain whirling in the sky and rocketing towards Upper Orest.
«You should not alarm him so. Tairen frightened for their motes a
re dangerous—especially to beings as breakable as mortals.»

"Not you, too, Steli!" Ellysetta crossed her arms, feeling immensely put out. "You think I'm not afraid when he's out there getting maimed by arrows and bowcannon?"

Steli's ears flicked and her tail lashed the earth. «
Ellysetta-kit
ling would not scorch the world. Rainier-Eras already has. Without you to anchor him, he would again.»

That simple, inescapable truth deflated Ellysetta's temper as nothing else could. A thousand years ago, after the death of his first mate, Sariel, Rain Tairen Soul had scorched the world in the blaze of tairen flame, killing thousands in mere instants, millions in a handful of days. He'd paid for that act of Rage with seven hundred years of madness and another three centuries spent battling his way back from the abyss.

•.Rainier-Eras is proud,»
Steli continued
, «and he does not
wish to frighten his mate. He does not tell Ellysetta-kitling that
each day becomes harder. That each battle weakens what took
him so long to rebuild.»

Ellysetta cast a troubled gaze over her shoulder. Rain stood a short distance away, shoulders hunched, pinching the bridge of his nose as he expended visible effort to calm himself. She'd frightened him badly, and his control hung in tatters. Untruemated Fey warriors absorbed the torment of every life they took—the pain, the darkness, the sorrow of lost dreams hanging like burning stones around their necks—and Rain bore the weight of millions on his soul. Mental and emotional discipline was the only thing standing between him and insanity, and her nearly fatal trip into the Well had stripped those protections threadbare. Shame washed over her.

The tairen bent her head and nudged Ellysetta. «
Go to
your
mate,
kitling
.
He needs you.
Now more than ever.»

Ellysetta crossed the short distance to Rain's side. Moss grew green and thick along the edges of the plaza's mist-dampened bricks. Winter would be upon them soon, and the spray off the Veil would turn to flurries of ice crystals. The nights would grow longer, the Eld Mages more powerful. Despite the brave efforts of Lord Teleos's soldiers, Celieria stood no chance of surviving the winter as a free land without the help of the Fey. The might of the tairen was the only power Mages truly feared.

Until Ellysetta found her wings, Rain was the only living Tairen Soul capable of Changing to his tairen form and leading the pride into battle. As such, he would have to fight—again and again and again—and the torment of his soul would grow more unbearable with each engagement. Ellysetta hadn't been thinking about that when she'd made her decision to save Aartys. She hadn't been thinking about Rain at all.

"I'm sorry,
shei'tan
," she apologized sincerely. "I should have been more careful—for your sake if not my own."

"That's what you always say," he replied in a low voice, "but it never stops you from doing what you know you should not."

She rubbed her forehead, where a headache had begun to throb. "I never meant to go so deep into the Well, but he was a child, Rain. Not much older than Lillis and Lorelle. I couldn't let him die. Can't you understand that?"