King of Sword and Sky
Page 67
Elfeya flung an arm over her face, covering her eyes as the weak, useless tears trickled from them. There was no sense in weeping. A thousand years of tears—enough to fill an ocean—had not spared her one moment of misery.
«Shei'tani.» Shan's voice, so beloved, whispered across the threads of their truemate bond. Soothing, comforting, Shan's consciousness caressed her own with such vibrant richness, she could almost pretend he was there beside her, holding her, making love to her with the wild, sweet, passionate abandon they'd shared in their all too brief bells together.
She wiped the tears from her face, then laughed at the uselessness of the small vanity. He could not see her tears, but he already knew she'd shed them. «I am here, beloved.»
«You are alone?» he asked.
«Never so long as I have you.» A smile trembled on her lips, then fell away. «He was here,» she told him, «but he is gone now. His health is failing.» The truth should have pleased them both, but she could feel Shan's deep concern, an echo of her own.
«He will be more dangerous now than ever. Desperate men always are.»
«Aiyah. He knows he cannot delay the inevitable much longer.» Time was against Vadim Maur now. He could no longer afford the skillful patience that had been the hallmark of his reign.
«At least our daughter is with the Fey now. They will protect her.»
«As much as they can,» she agreed.
Vadim Maur was too powerful a Mage for Elfeya to rifle through his mind without his notice, but he had come to her many times over the years for healing…and other things. She'd used those occasions to gain what advantage she could, testing his shields, gathering what thoughts he did not consciously guard, and slowly—very, very slowly—burrowing an imperceptible path into the secrets he held locked away in his mind.
She could not pluck thoughts freely from Maur's mind, but when he was weary and came to her for healing—as he had begun to do with increasing frequency—that tiny thread of Spirit allowed her to influence him slightly, pushing him to relax in her presence just enough that the occasional useful tidbit of information could rise to the surface of his thoughts, where she could draw it unnoticed into her mind for later review.
«You discovered what he is planning?» Shan asked.
Vadim's umagi spies in Celieria had been disappearing by the dozens, rendering him blind and weakening the foothold he'd established in northern Celieria. Whoever was behind those deaths, she didn't know, but the Fey owed the mysterious agent a debt of gratitude. With the loss of his umagi, Maur had no way to open the portals to the Well of Souls that would enable him to deliver an army for a surprise attack.
He had something up his sleeve, though. Something so important he would not even let himself think about it when he was with her.
«Nei, his mind was too full of last night's triumph. He has created a second Tairen Soul. A boy this time, with vel Serranis blood.» She closed her eyes in horror. The poor, doomed child. There was no one to save him as she and Shan had saved Ellysetta.
«He must be stopped. If he Mage-claims a Tairen Soul…» His voice trailed off. Twenty-five years ago, that same fear had pushed Shan and Elfeya to willingly risk death in an effort to bind their daughter's magic and smuggle her out of Eld so Maur could not enslave her soul. The devastating power of the tairen under Mage control—it was a horror so dark Elfeya could scarcely think of it without shuddering.
«Elfeya…beloved …»
Her body tensed. When her shei'tan said her name like that outside of mating, it never boded well.
«The girl who was here earlier—the umagi who came to feed me—she asked for my help. She wants me to kill Maur.»
Her blood ran cold. «Nei.»
«Elfeya—»
«Nei! It must be some sort of trap. Some new way to torment us. She is umagi. None of them could even think such a thing without the one who owns their souls knowing it.»
«Perhaps another Mage is her master then. One who wants Maur dead.»
«Even if that's true, there's no way you could kill him without being slain yourself.»
She felt his soul sigh. Then he said, in a voice so soft and weary it made her throat close up, «After all these centuries of torment, can death truly be so terrible a fate, kem'san?»
The tears she kept telling herself she would not shed pooled in her eyes and spilled over. «Nei, teska, do not think that way. So long as we live, there is hope. A thousand years we have suffered. A thousand more would I bear, just for what few bells he grants us together. Do you love me any less?»
«You know I don't.»
«Then promise me you will not do this.»
«Elfeya …»
«Promise me, Shan.»
For a long moment he did not answer, and then finally, in a defeated whisper, «What choices we make, we make for us both. If you do not wish it, it will not be done.»
The Fading Lands ~ Fey'Bahren
«Your mate needs feeding,» Sybharukai chided.
Ellysetta had been sitting with the eggs for several long bells. Even now, she leaned against them, her hands stroking gently over the leathery shells as she crooned little songs of encouragement and praise.
"Aiyah," he agreed, "and sleep." Though inside, the nesting lair remained dark and unchanged, outside the Great Sun had passed its zenith and was already approaching the western horizon. Most of the day was gone, and Marissya and Dax were less than eighty miles away. They would be here before nightfall.
«Shei'tani.» Shan's voice, so beloved, whispered across the threads of their truemate bond. Soothing, comforting, Shan's consciousness caressed her own with such vibrant richness, she could almost pretend he was there beside her, holding her, making love to her with the wild, sweet, passionate abandon they'd shared in their all too brief bells together.
She wiped the tears from her face, then laughed at the uselessness of the small vanity. He could not see her tears, but he already knew she'd shed them. «I am here, beloved.»
«You are alone?» he asked.
«Never so long as I have you.» A smile trembled on her lips, then fell away. «He was here,» she told him, «but he is gone now. His health is failing.» The truth should have pleased them both, but she could feel Shan's deep concern, an echo of her own.
«He will be more dangerous now than ever. Desperate men always are.»
«Aiyah. He knows he cannot delay the inevitable much longer.» Time was against Vadim Maur now. He could no longer afford the skillful patience that had been the hallmark of his reign.
«At least our daughter is with the Fey now. They will protect her.»
«As much as they can,» she agreed.
Vadim Maur was too powerful a Mage for Elfeya to rifle through his mind without his notice, but he had come to her many times over the years for healing…and other things. She'd used those occasions to gain what advantage she could, testing his shields, gathering what thoughts he did not consciously guard, and slowly—very, very slowly—burrowing an imperceptible path into the secrets he held locked away in his mind.
She could not pluck thoughts freely from Maur's mind, but when he was weary and came to her for healing—as he had begun to do with increasing frequency—that tiny thread of Spirit allowed her to influence him slightly, pushing him to relax in her presence just enough that the occasional useful tidbit of information could rise to the surface of his thoughts, where she could draw it unnoticed into her mind for later review.
«You discovered what he is planning?» Shan asked.
Vadim's umagi spies in Celieria had been disappearing by the dozens, rendering him blind and weakening the foothold he'd established in northern Celieria. Whoever was behind those deaths, she didn't know, but the Fey owed the mysterious agent a debt of gratitude. With the loss of his umagi, Maur had no way to open the portals to the Well of Souls that would enable him to deliver an army for a surprise attack.
He had something up his sleeve, though. Something so important he would not even let himself think about it when he was with her.
«Nei, his mind was too full of last night's triumph. He has created a second Tairen Soul. A boy this time, with vel Serranis blood.» She closed her eyes in horror. The poor, doomed child. There was no one to save him as she and Shan had saved Ellysetta.
«He must be stopped. If he Mage-claims a Tairen Soul…» His voice trailed off. Twenty-five years ago, that same fear had pushed Shan and Elfeya to willingly risk death in an effort to bind their daughter's magic and smuggle her out of Eld so Maur could not enslave her soul. The devastating power of the tairen under Mage control—it was a horror so dark Elfeya could scarcely think of it without shuddering.
«Elfeya…beloved …»
Her body tensed. When her shei'tan said her name like that outside of mating, it never boded well.
«The girl who was here earlier—the umagi who came to feed me—she asked for my help. She wants me to kill Maur.»
Her blood ran cold. «Nei.»
«Elfeya—»
«Nei! It must be some sort of trap. Some new way to torment us. She is umagi. None of them could even think such a thing without the one who owns their souls knowing it.»
«Perhaps another Mage is her master then. One who wants Maur dead.»
«Even if that's true, there's no way you could kill him without being slain yourself.»
She felt his soul sigh. Then he said, in a voice so soft and weary it made her throat close up, «After all these centuries of torment, can death truly be so terrible a fate, kem'san?»
The tears she kept telling herself she would not shed pooled in her eyes and spilled over. «Nei, teska, do not think that way. So long as we live, there is hope. A thousand years we have suffered. A thousand more would I bear, just for what few bells he grants us together. Do you love me any less?»
«You know I don't.»
«Then promise me you will not do this.»
«Elfeya …»
«Promise me, Shan.»
For a long moment he did not answer, and then finally, in a defeated whisper, «What choices we make, we make for us both. If you do not wish it, it will not be done.»
The Fading Lands ~ Fey'Bahren
«Your mate needs feeding,» Sybharukai chided.
Ellysetta had been sitting with the eggs for several long bells. Even now, she leaned against them, her hands stroking gently over the leathery shells as she crooned little songs of encouragement and praise.
"Aiyah," he agreed, "and sleep." Though inside, the nesting lair remained dark and unchanged, outside the Great Sun had passed its zenith and was already approaching the western horizon. Most of the day was gone, and Marissya and Dax were less than eighty miles away. They would be here before nightfall.
