King of Sword and Sky
Page 4
Ellie sighed. "No, Papa, it's not green."
With a twinkle in his eye, he pretended relief. "Well, then, there you go." He laughed and grinned, and reached across to pat her hand. "You did good, Ellie-girl. You may have overdone the weave a little, but the finger's healed. Besides, what man wouldn't like a little more hair when his own starts to go missing, eh?" Thrusting his pipe stem back between his teeth, he lit a fresh match and held it to the bowl, puffing until the shreds of tobacco began to glow orange and puffs of fragrant smoke wreathed his newly regenerated headful of hair…and a face that had lost at least ten years of age in an instant.
She forced a smile. "Beylah vo, Papa." Weaving youth on mortals wasn't one of the things Marissya had taught her—but apparently the patterns were very similar to regular healing.
A happy shriek sounded at Ellysetta's right. The Fey warrior Kiel vel Tomar, his long silvery-blond hair woven into a plait, ran past with Ellysetta's nine-year-old sister Lorelle perched on his shoulders. Kieran vel Solande, Marissya's son, followed a few paces behind. Lorelle's twin, Lillis, sat on Kieran's shoulders and kicked his chest with her heels as if he were one of the Elvish ba'houda horses pulling the wagons in their caravan. Her small fingers clutched tufts of his thick, wavy brown hair.
Lillis and Lorelle were clad in miniature versions of Marissya's and Ellie's brown traveling leathers, which they had insisted Kieran weave for them. Kieran and Kiel had done their best to keep the children's minds off the grief of Mama's death by making each day of the trip a new adventure. The twins had taken to the idea, enthusiastically using even the briefest stops as an excuse to explore—always under watchful Fey eyes, of course, but rarely in clean, tidy places. The keepsake boxes Papa had carved for them years ago were now overflowing with treasures from their journey: small rocks, wildflowers, snail shells, bird feathers, whatever caught their attention.
Kieran cast a grin Ellysetta's way. His steps faltered as he caught sight of Sol Baristani; then his gaze shot to Ellysetta. She blushed furiously. A shei'dalin's ability to restore mortal youth was a secret the Fey had guarded for millennia, and she had just revealed it for anyone to see.
Fortunately, before he could say anything, Lillis tugged on Kieran's hair and bounced on his shoulders. "Faster, Kieran!" she cried. "They're beating us!"
With a final look and a shake of his head, Kieran turned away and raced down the grassy hill after Kiel and Lorelle.
Ellysetta watched them, and the tension that had been growing in her all week squeezed her chest tight. They were nearing the end of the journey. One more day, two at the most; then she would leave what remained of her beloved family to follow her new husband through the mysterious Faering Mists, perhaps never to return.
Sol patted her hand and nodded his chin in the direction of the twins. "It is good to hear them laughing again."
"Yes," she agreed. The twins hadn't had much cause for laughter of late.
"They miss their mother," Sol said. "They try to smile and laugh for my sake, but I hear them each night, crying into their pillows and pleading for her to come back."
Just that quick, Ellie's own sharp grief struck hard. Her face crumpled and her eyes filled with tears. "I miss her too, Papa." Stern as Mama sometimes was, Ellie had never doubted her love—and never loved her back with any less than her whole heart.
"Oh, Ellie." Sol slid an arm around his daughter's shoulders and pulled her close. "My sweet Ellie-girl. We all miss her."
She turned her face into his neck as she had so many times in the past and sobbed. And her father held her, as he always had, patting her back and rocking her as if she were still the small child who'd crawled on his lap for comfort after evil visions tormented her dreams.
She cried until her tears were spent and, when they were done, wiped her eyes as best she could, and begged again as she had so many times this last week, "Won't you please come with us, Papa? Rain will grant you and the girls escort through the Mists. You could live there, with us, in safety."
Sol sighed. "We are not Fey like you, Ellie. Our home is here, in Celieria. The last request your mother ever made of me before she…" His voice thickened. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "In the note she wrote to me before she went to the cathedral that day…she begged me that if anything happened to her, I'd be sure the twins were raised in Celieria, among their own kind."
"Papa, she asked you for that when she still thought I was demon-possessed and the Fey were evil. She realized her mistake in the end. Don't you think she'd realize her mistake about this too?" They'd been over this question a thousand times since leaving Celieria City. "Wouldn't she rather know the girls were safe regardless of where they live?"
"It was her last request, Ellie. Shh." He put a finger on her lips to forestall further objections. "Her wish is as sacred to me as if I'd sworn it to her on her deathbed. So long as there is a chance of the girls living here in peace among our own kind, then here we will remain. You're Fey, Ellysetta. You belong in the Fading Lands. We are mortal, and we belong here." His eyes were filled with sadness but also unwavering determination.
Seeing that look, Ellysetta knew she'd lost. Her father was the most loving man she'd ever known, but when he had that hint of steel in his eye, it meant he'd made up his mind and would not be budged. She bit her lip, stared at the hands clasped tightly in her lap, and nodded, afraid to look at him for fear the fresh tears burning at the backs of her eyes would spurt out in dreadful, graceless sobs.
With a twinkle in his eye, he pretended relief. "Well, then, there you go." He laughed and grinned, and reached across to pat her hand. "You did good, Ellie-girl. You may have overdone the weave a little, but the finger's healed. Besides, what man wouldn't like a little more hair when his own starts to go missing, eh?" Thrusting his pipe stem back between his teeth, he lit a fresh match and held it to the bowl, puffing until the shreds of tobacco began to glow orange and puffs of fragrant smoke wreathed his newly regenerated headful of hair…and a face that had lost at least ten years of age in an instant.
She forced a smile. "Beylah vo, Papa." Weaving youth on mortals wasn't one of the things Marissya had taught her—but apparently the patterns were very similar to regular healing.
A happy shriek sounded at Ellysetta's right. The Fey warrior Kiel vel Tomar, his long silvery-blond hair woven into a plait, ran past with Ellysetta's nine-year-old sister Lorelle perched on his shoulders. Kieran vel Solande, Marissya's son, followed a few paces behind. Lorelle's twin, Lillis, sat on Kieran's shoulders and kicked his chest with her heels as if he were one of the Elvish ba'houda horses pulling the wagons in their caravan. Her small fingers clutched tufts of his thick, wavy brown hair.
Lillis and Lorelle were clad in miniature versions of Marissya's and Ellie's brown traveling leathers, which they had insisted Kieran weave for them. Kieran and Kiel had done their best to keep the children's minds off the grief of Mama's death by making each day of the trip a new adventure. The twins had taken to the idea, enthusiastically using even the briefest stops as an excuse to explore—always under watchful Fey eyes, of course, but rarely in clean, tidy places. The keepsake boxes Papa had carved for them years ago were now overflowing with treasures from their journey: small rocks, wildflowers, snail shells, bird feathers, whatever caught their attention.
Kieran cast a grin Ellysetta's way. His steps faltered as he caught sight of Sol Baristani; then his gaze shot to Ellysetta. She blushed furiously. A shei'dalin's ability to restore mortal youth was a secret the Fey had guarded for millennia, and she had just revealed it for anyone to see.
Fortunately, before he could say anything, Lillis tugged on Kieran's hair and bounced on his shoulders. "Faster, Kieran!" she cried. "They're beating us!"
With a final look and a shake of his head, Kieran turned away and raced down the grassy hill after Kiel and Lorelle.
Ellysetta watched them, and the tension that had been growing in her all week squeezed her chest tight. They were nearing the end of the journey. One more day, two at the most; then she would leave what remained of her beloved family to follow her new husband through the mysterious Faering Mists, perhaps never to return.
Sol patted her hand and nodded his chin in the direction of the twins. "It is good to hear them laughing again."
"Yes," she agreed. The twins hadn't had much cause for laughter of late.
"They miss their mother," Sol said. "They try to smile and laugh for my sake, but I hear them each night, crying into their pillows and pleading for her to come back."
Just that quick, Ellie's own sharp grief struck hard. Her face crumpled and her eyes filled with tears. "I miss her too, Papa." Stern as Mama sometimes was, Ellie had never doubted her love—and never loved her back with any less than her whole heart.
"Oh, Ellie." Sol slid an arm around his daughter's shoulders and pulled her close. "My sweet Ellie-girl. We all miss her."
She turned her face into his neck as she had so many times in the past and sobbed. And her father held her, as he always had, patting her back and rocking her as if she were still the small child who'd crawled on his lap for comfort after evil visions tormented her dreams.
She cried until her tears were spent and, when they were done, wiped her eyes as best she could, and begged again as she had so many times this last week, "Won't you please come with us, Papa? Rain will grant you and the girls escort through the Mists. You could live there, with us, in safety."
Sol sighed. "We are not Fey like you, Ellie. Our home is here, in Celieria. The last request your mother ever made of me before she…" His voice thickened. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "In the note she wrote to me before she went to the cathedral that day…she begged me that if anything happened to her, I'd be sure the twins were raised in Celieria, among their own kind."
"Papa, she asked you for that when she still thought I was demon-possessed and the Fey were evil. She realized her mistake in the end. Don't you think she'd realize her mistake about this too?" They'd been over this question a thousand times since leaving Celieria City. "Wouldn't she rather know the girls were safe regardless of where they live?"
"It was her last request, Ellie. Shh." He put a finger on her lips to forestall further objections. "Her wish is as sacred to me as if I'd sworn it to her on her deathbed. So long as there is a chance of the girls living here in peace among our own kind, then here we will remain. You're Fey, Ellysetta. You belong in the Fading Lands. We are mortal, and we belong here." His eyes were filled with sadness but also unwavering determination.
Seeing that look, Ellysetta knew she'd lost. Her father was the most loving man she'd ever known, but when he had that hint of steel in his eye, it meant he'd made up his mind and would not be budged. She bit her lip, stared at the hands clasped tightly in her lap, and nodded, afraid to look at him for fear the fresh tears burning at the backs of her eyes would spurt out in dreadful, graceless sobs.
