“give me your strength.” The five Fey women offered her their power without question. Neither Marissya nor the other shei’dalins could heal the warriors as Ellysetta was doing, but they could add their strength to hers and weave away at least some of her pain so she could continue.
Marissya wove the shei’dalins’ power into multi-ply threads of healing and laid her hands on Ellysetta’s shoulders. Sparks snapped and popped when their bodies made contact, and Ellysetta’s head whipped around, eyes narrowed in threat.
“Las, Ellysetta,” Marissya soothed. “Take what we can give. Use our weaves. Spin our strength into your own.” Weaves of peace and healing flowed from her hands, ropes of Earth and Fire and Spirit, all gleaming with the warm golden glow of shei’dalin love. “Long have we all wished these Fey more joy than we could grant. Whatever power we have is yours to use. Heal our brothers. Make them whole once more.”
Ellysetta’s blazing eyes examined Marissya’s weaves. Without a word, she turned back to the Fey in her grip, and Marissya’s mouth opened on a gasp as Ellysetta seized the threads of shei’dalin power and thrust them deep into the blinding brightness of her own pattern.
“Light save me,” she whispered.
“Shei’tani?” Dax clutched her arm.
“I’m all right. shei’tan. Just surprised. She is buffering me, but her pain is terrible.” Quickly, Marissya spun peace and absence of pain upon Ellysetta, then swallowed and shook her head. “I can feel the pattern of her weave. It’s not so different from weaving peace, except for the love…. Light save me, I’ve never felt a shei’dalin’s love so strongly.”
That was the strength of Ellysetta’s weave. Bright, unyielding, indefatigable love. Love that did not know surrender. Love that did not understand limitations or even basic self-preservation. Love that would batter itself to death before giving in to defeat.
“Dax,” she said, “gather a group of Fey. Have them go room to room through the rest of Chakai. Bring any other rasa who wish for healing here. Hurry. Those of you who have refused her gift, get out. Now!” she barked at several of the warriors who stood off to one side, arms crossed, eyes grim and filled with suspicion. The men looked startled at Marissya’s vehemence, but they’d been too long conditioned to respect her command to do anything but obey. Wordless, casting final glances over their shoulders, they departed.
“She must stop,” Rain growled.
Marissya knew how hard he was fighting to keep his tairen in check. “Nei, Rain. Sieks’ta, I know how hard this is for you, but she must finish. She has put too much of herself into the weave, holding nothing back. I fear what will happen if you make her stop before she is finished.” She muttered a curse. “I spent all those days trying to teach her how to weave her magic with restraint, when what I should have been teaching her was how to restrain herself instead of her magic.”
Shei’dalins anchored themselves before they touched the rasa. Always. The pain of so much death, so many sorrows crying out for healing was overwhelming. Even the strongest shei’dalin risked losing herself in the torment of the one she was healing if she did not keep a portion of her soul, of her oneness, carefully blocked off, preferably tied to some other person such as a mate or another shei’dalin.
Ellysetta was holding none of herself in reserve. Though that impenetrable barrier still guarded her mind from shei’dalin intrusion, the floodgates of her empathic power were wide-open, and the shining brightness of Ellysetta’s soul was pouring out upon the rasa like searing beams of the Great Sun’s light. Even before one warrior was healed, her power was already reaching for another, drawn by the need to end the pain she felt so acutely.
All shei’dalins—all strong empaths, for that matter—felt a similar driving need to heal and bring peace to tormented souls. The only difference was that Ellysetta was somehow able to withstand the pain.
Not because she didn’t sense it, though. Instead, it was as if she absorbed the rasa’s pain and transformed at least some part of it into the healing light she poured back into them.
A dull throb gathered at Marissya’s temples as warriors began streaming into the hall. The rasa did not broadcast their despair like the dahl’reisen, but even well-shielded shei’dalins felt the echoes when a dozen or more rasa gathered together. That was why they lived here, by the Garreval, isolated from the women of their kind.
Gritting her teeth, Marissya spun Spirit tinged with the barest hint of compulsion. «Ellysetta, listen to me. You cannot continue to heal each warrior individually. You will lose yourself long before you are finished.»
“Nei.” Ellysetta frowned and shook her head, but gave no other sign that she realized Marissya was “pushing.” Still, that frown was enough to make Marissya back off. She’d felt the hard edge of Ellysetta’s power earlier today, and she wasn’t eager to confront it again.
“Las, little sister. I can feel your need to bring them peace. But you don’t need to restore each warrior’s soul to complete innocence. When all the rasa are gathered here, the other shei’dalins and I will help you spread your weave over all of them at once. It may not heal them as completely as you are doing now, but it should pull them back from the shadows of the Dark Path. Later, if you must heal them fully, you can do so without putting your mate at such risk.”
Ellysetta’s head reared up. Her blinding gaze shot towards Rain. “Shei’tan, I wound you?” The fingers clamped around the current warrior’s wrists flew open, and the Fey fell to his knees, shuddering as his hands fumbled for his Fey’cha belts.
Her grief and guilt swamped Marissya’s senses. It was clear she had not realized what she was doing to Rain. She’d been so intently focused on the rasa, she’d blocked out everything else. Even Rain’s torment.
“Just finish it, Ellysetta,” Rain bit out. “Either stop or heal them all. But whatever you do, do it quickly.”
Ellysetta pinned Marissya with a blinding gaze. The bright power in those eyes hit like a blow, soul-deep and searing. “How can you help me?”
“Allow me and the other shei’dalins to join your weave. Let us anchor you and help direct and disperse the threads of your magic to heal all the rasa, rather than just one.”
Already the drowning pain of the next rasa had Ellysetta in its grip, dragging her thoughts, her concentration, away from Marissya. Her magic surged in powerful response, sending brilliant threads spinning around her. Ellysetta seized the warrior’s hands as the searing fury of her magic poured out upon him. Like his many brothers before, he cried out and fell to his knees, trembling from head to toe and reaching with a shaking hand for one of the black Fey’cha strapped to his chest.
As he wept and uttered the vows of lute’asheiva bonding, Ellysetta turned to Marissya. “Bas’ka. Do it.” She pinned the other shei’dalins with a blazing green gaze. “And do not dare to trespass. The tairen will not treat you kindly.”
Not one of the shei’dalins pierced by that whirling glare doubted the Feyreisa’s threat was real.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Swiftly, under Marissya’s direction, the shei’dalins spun the threads of their own magic into Ellysetta’s weave. The instant the threads combined, Ellysetta’s power shot out like bolts of golden white lightning, tracing the glowing lines of magic back to the women who’d spun them. Light flashed as the shei’dalins’ natural Fey luminescence suddenly blazed sun-bright. Their light filled the entire room, intensifying until the gathered warriors lifted their hands to shield their eyes.
Marissya gasped as she and the other shei’dalins fell to their knees. Ellysetta wasn’t weaving with them. She was draining them. Absorbing their power and commanding their flows as if they were her own, just as she’d done with the lu’tans. Only there was no lute’asheiva bond between the shei’dalins and Ellysetta. She should not have been able to command their magic.
Yet commanding them she was.
Marissya could feel her own will falling away. The deep, strong well of her power rose in response to Ellysetta’s
summons, pouring into Ellysetta as quickly as it came. Marissya began to tremble. So much power…so unbearably bright. How could Ellysetta hold so much?
Beside her, two of the other shei’dalins began to sway, and their Fey brightness dimmed.
“Ellysetta…little sister…teska…you must stop. Spin the weave. Spin it now.” With the last ounce of her control, Marissya wove the command in Spirit and buried it in the river of magic pouring unchecked from her body into Ellysetta’s.
Later, she would not be sure whether her command worked or Ellysetta’s wilding magic had simply gathered as much power as it could, but all at once, the ravenous consumption ceased. Ellysetta’s weave shot out in great streams of burning filaments, spinning into a brilliant net of gold power. It enveloped the gathered Fey, swirling above and around them. Then, with a final flare of light, the magic sank into the warriors’ flesh. Their bodies flashed golden bright, then dimmed to the natural silvery luminescence of their kind.
Ellysetta’s power went out. Marissya and the shei’dalins staggered to their feet, reaching blindly for the brace of stone walls to keep from falling.
The warriors in the hall locked shocked gazes on Ellysetta. One by one, then in increasing numbers, they fell to their knees, reaching for their Fey’cha.
“Nei. No more.” Ellysetta backed away, her hands flung up. “Parei. I won’t accept another bond.” She turned, hands extended in a pleading gesture. “Rain, shei’tan, get me out of here.” He was standing by the wall behind her, the stones around him a crumbled ruin, his eyes blazing purple suns in a face carved by a grim blade. «I can feel the unhealed rasa already pulling at me again. Quickly, take me away from here to someplace I cannot feel their pain. If we stay, I don’t think I will be able to stop myself from healing them, even if they refuse me.»
He surged away from the wall in a rush, power crackling around him in a swirl of multicolored sparks. Without a word, he caught her up in his arms under her knees, and an enormous thrust of Air sent them spiraling into the night sky.
They flew south until the lights of Chatok and Chakai were far behind them and the tug of the rasa had faded enough that Ellysetta could breathe again.
That small peace did not extend to Rain. His wings beat the sky in furious sweeps. Jets of flame shot into the air before them, sending clouds of heat and magic bursting across the shields Rain barely remembered to fling up around her.
The enraged snarl of his tairen screamed along their bondthreads, half-wild with fury over the Fey males who had laid hands upon its mate. She is ours. Ours! Scorch the Fey-kin. Burn away their scent upon her! The tairen’s rage whipped at her, making her own tairen roar and dig its claws deep.
Abruptly, Rain put on a powerful burst of magic. A blazing cone of Fire and Air took shape around them, and they shot forward with such force, Ellysetta fell back against the high back of her saddle. Magic poured from Rain in rivers, condensing into great, powerful jets that propelled them across the sky faster than they’d ever flown before. The ground below them flashed by in a blur. Rain’s tairen fell silent, the full force of its raging energy now diverted to keeping its wings held steady and tucked close to its body in a backswept vee as they shot through the sky.
Only then, without the scream of his tairen rousing her own, did Ellysetta realize the magnitude of the harm she’d done with her stubborn, selfish determination to heal the rasa. The barriers of Rain’s control were stretched so thin, they were all but shredding. He’d kept his torment from her during the healing—or perhaps she simply had refused to see—but now she could not blind herself. Violent clouds of bloodlust and fiery Rage boiled inside him, shot through with streaks of icy fear and grim desperation as he fought to keep control of his tairen and his magic.
Horror consumed her. Oh, gods, what had she done to him? «Rain?»
He did not answer.
Ellysetta could still feel the furious roil of emotion through the touch of her bare leg against Rain’s tairen pelt, but he had closed off their bondthreads, silencing the connection between them. «Rain, teska. Please talk to me. I’m sorry, shei’tan. I’m so sorry.»
She leaned forward to bury her hands in his pelt, trying to weave peace upon him. Slowly, far too slowly, she felt some of the terrible Rage begin to calm.
She did not know how long or how far they flew, but when they came to a silver ribbon of river shining in the starlight, Rain swooped down, skimming the treetops of the dense forest growing on the slopes of the Silvermist mountains. Flocks of birds squawked and took startled flight. The shadows of grazing animals darted into the trees and brush, seeking cover from the predator overhead. A growl rumbled deep in Rain’s tairen chest. He dove for the ground, and Ellysetta gasped as a slide of Air lifted her from the saddle on his back and deposited her in the dark woods beside the river.
«I must feed. You will be safe here. Speak the command “lissi” to light the lamps.» That was all he said, the first words he’d spoken to her since leaving Chakai. His voice was a ragged thread of sound. Then he was gone.
“Rain!” she called after him. «Rain!»
«Light the lamps, Ellysetta, and go to the hall. I will join you as soon as I am done.» In the distance, Rain’s tairen roar broke the silence, followed by the frightened squeal of whatever unfortunate creature had caught his predator’s eye.
A shudder rippled through her, but it wasn’t caused by fear or squeamishness. The primal sound of the hunt had sent hot energy rushing through her veins. Her muscles tensed. She could picture Rain in her mind, wings spread wide, fangs dripping with the blood of his kill, a powerful, deadly predator. Inside, her own still-restless tairen growled with a hungry bloodlust that made her pulse race and her breath come fast and shallow.
“Lissi!” she called out, hoping to dispel the disquieting sensation. She dragged the folds of her cloak closer around her and took a hurried step forward, towards the soft lights that bloomed in the darkness.
Worry turned to wonder as she drew closer and discovered the abandoned city that emerged from the deep shadows of the forest, lit with a silvery glow. Steadying herself with a palm against the trunk of a nearby tree, Ellysetta let her stunned gaze sweep across the luminous forest treasure.
«Rain, what is this place?»
In the distance, she heard another terrified squeal, followed moments later by a tairen’s roar. «It was called Elverial.» His Spirit voice throbbed with dark, dangerous tairen notes.
Elverial. The valley of the elves. The name seemed entirely appropriate. The city was nestled in a deep valley between two peaks of the Silvermist range, and the buildings seemed as much a part of the forest as the trees themselves, rising from the ground in muted shades of green and brown and silvery stone, curling around the living trunks of ancient trees and flowing in graceful levels up the steep rise of the mountainside.
The place looked so Elvish, she was half expecting some point-eared bowmaster to leap down from the tree branches overhead and challenge her presence, but if the elves had indeed ever dwelled here, they had left long ago. Stone walkways led across the leaf-scattered forest floor, and statues darkened by years of neglect stood silent, melancholy guard in gardens reclaimed by the untamed beauty of nature.
A large building she assumed was the hall Rain had mentioned rose from the forest nearby, and Ellysetta followed the nearest pathway, now barely more than a trail of broken stones leading through meadows of ivy and ferns. She climbed a short stairway and passed through the open, arching doorway leading to the interior of the hall.
Within, the hall was beautiful and otherworldly, as peaceful a place as she’d ever seen. Her gasp of wonder became a deep, luxurious breath, brisk with the cool, fresh air of the forest and the tang of mist from the mountain streams tumbling down nearby waterfalls.
Overhead, fire glowed soft in silvery chandeliers shaped like blossoming vines. Soaring, open arches brought the forest into the hall, where the muted green, brown, and gold forest tones merged harmoniously with
touches of color—deep purples, rich blues, and occasional bright flashes of buttery yellow and crisp crimson. A mix of Feyan script and Elvish runes scrolled in graceful whorls along the arched doorways and up the stone columns that had been carved to look like tree trunks rising from the floor, their branches holding aloft the vaulted ceiling. Tapestries and elegant furnishings still filled the empty hall, as if some caretaker or protection weave had kept away the ravages of time.
“This was my mother’s birthplace.”
She felt the sudden burst of Rain’s Change only instants before he spoke, and she turned, heart racing, to find him standing in the doorway of the hall. Magic glowed bright around his tall Fey form, his eyes still more tairen than Fey, and despite the serenity of their surroundings, she felt her own tairen shift and tense in response.
“After I returned to sanity, I would come here from time to time, seeking peace and solitude.” He had finished his hunt, but tension still swirled around him—as did a hunger his hunt had not assuaged.
Her mouth went dry. “And did you find it?” She cleared her throat. “The peace you sought?”
“A measure of it.” He began to walk towards her, his steps long and deliberate, his face a gleaming pale mask that appeared carved from Silverstone, his eyes searing jewels.
“More so than tonight.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs, and despite herself, she took several steps back. A wall covered with a tapestry depicting elves at the hunt stopped her retreat. “Rain, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what I was doing to you…what toll my healing the rasa would take on you.”
He reached her, stopping with only the barest hand span between them, not touching her, but so close she could feel the swirling heat emanating from him, the tingle of great magic scarcely contained by his flesh.
“Do not blame yourself. You made your choice, and I made mine.” His voice was a low scrape of sound that combined with the steady, burning gaze of his eyes and the electric throb of his magic to make her tremble from head to toe. “I could have stopped you or simply taken you away from Chakai to a place where you could no longer feel the rasa’s pain.”