Crown of Crystal Flame Page 63

Without the dead Mage’s Azrahn to keep it open, one side of the Well doorway began to collapse. The apprentice Mage holding open on the other side gurgled as a red Fey’cha buried itself in his throat. He toppled over and was shredded and consumed before he could hit the ground. The doorway fell in upon itself, closing rapidly.

Primage Keldo leapt forward and channeled a concentrated burst of Azrahn to keep the Well open. Even as he did so, he flung a shield around himself and fired deadly globes of Mage Fire at the unseen attackers. “Get the girl into the Well!” he shouted. Fey’cha bounced harmlessly off his shields.

A dozen Eld converged on Rain and Ellysetta—and died. Their bodies dropped like autumn leaves.

Rain hauled Ellysetta into his arms and bolted away from the Well. Huge, furious balls of Mage Fire rolled past Rain on either side. He smelled the stench of seared flesh and heard the thud of ruined bodies falling to the ground as some of the Mage’s shots hit the invisible rescuers. Rain kept running. His seldor-bound magic was useless, and Ellysetta’s life was in danger. He had to trust the Fey to do their job. “Fey, ti’Feyreisa!” he shouted. “Fey, to the Feyreisa! Protect her! Shields up!”

A fiery hammerblow punched Rain in the back of one leg, sending him sprawling. The smell of scorched ozone filled his nostrils. He fell to his knees, and his elbows slammed so hard into the ground that his teeth rattled. He’d been struck by Mage Fire, and only the power of his golden war steel had saved him the loss of a leg. He released Ellysetta and rolled to his feet in time to see another of the Primages advancing on him, more Mage Fire blazing.

Half a dozen Fey materialized directly in the Primage’s path. Another half dozen shimmered into visibility in a loose ring around Rain and Ellysetta. Mage Fire roared towards them. In the hands of the Fey, magic blazed to life, huge, powerful ropes of it forming a five-fold weave. Earth. Air. Water. Fire. Spirit.

A sixth, dark rope joined the rest.

Azrahn.

Rain’s gut clenched. He spun instinctively towards Ellysetta, saw the six-fold weave surrounding her unconscious form, saw the scars on the faces of the Fey surrounding her.

It wasn’t Bel who’d come to their rescue.

It was dahl’reisen.

His hand instinctively reached for his Fey’cha belts, but his steel still lay in a heap on the ground near the portal to the Well of Souls. Before he could make a move to recover his blades, a massive concussion shook the ground. Rain dropped to his knees as Mage Fire exploded harmlessly against one of the six-fold weaves.

More dahl’reisen added their weaves to the others. Power swelled until the very air crackled. Clouds boiled in the sky. Rain glanced back in time to see the Primage feed power into his shields in a desperate, doomed attempt to save himself as thirty-six dahl’reisen interwove their magic into a single, enormous rope of energy. It blasted through his shields like fire through paper, incinerating him in a single fiery flash.

The doorway to the Well of Souls collapsed. The feeding demons howled in fury as the closing door sucked them back into their world.

Abrupt silence fell over the Eld forest.

The dahl’reisen paused briefly to gauge the remaining number of enemy, then continued methodically exterminating the Eld. They made short work of those who fled and the few who remained to fight, and slit the throats of the still-groaning Eld wounded as they began dragging Eld bodies into a large pile and retrieving Fey’cha.

“Fire the bodies quickly.” The order came from behind Rain’s back. The speaker’s voice was harsh and gravelly, and it held the unmistakable ring of command. “Jaren, you and your men send our fallen brothers back to the elements. Others will come. We must leave.” The dahl’reisen obeyed without hesitation. The pile of Eld corpses burst into flames. The half dozen dead dahl’reisen who’d not been consumed by Mage Fire were gathered and laid out in a line. Six-fold weaves enveloped the bodies, then blazed bright. When the magic died down, the bodies of the slain dahl’reisen were gone.

Rain turned to the speaker, a tall dark-haired warrior with a thick scar that curved across his throat up to his left cheek. Rain did not recognize him, but that wasn’t so surprising. Before the Wars, Fey had numbered in the hundreds of thousands.

“You will come with us,” the dahl’reisen told Rain.

Rain glanced at the dahl’reisen still ringing around Ellysetta. Had these men who walked the Shadowed Path rescued them only to turn around and imprison them again?

“The woman and I are heading for Orest,” Rain told him, then cursed himself for the useless attempt to hide Ellysetta’s identity. He’d already shouted it to them all. Fey, to the Feyreisa! Protect her!

One of the dahl’reisen’s dark brown brows lifted in a mocking gesture almost identical to the one Gaelen so enjoyed using. “Your sense of direction is somewhat lacking, Tairen Soul. This is Eld.”

“We were… diverted.”

“You are both wounded, and I imagine you would like to be rid of that Eld jewelry before continuing your journey.” The dahl’reisen’s nose wrinkled with distaste as he touched the sel’dor manacles welded in place around Rain’s wrists.

Rain met his gaze steadily. “You know I cannot allow any of you to touch her.”

The mocking brow arched again. “You believe you could stop us if we were determined to do so? Sel’dor-pierced and shackled?”

“I would die trying.”

“Still so noble. Still so bloodthirsty. How many souls weigh on your own, Rainier vel’En Daris?”

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