Lillis stuck the berry in her mouth and chewed, refusing to look at him.

He sighed and glanced over towards the far corner of the terrace, where Kiel was receiving an equally chilly response from Lorelle. «Time to go, kem’jeto,» he spun on a private weave.

Pushing away from the table, Kieran stood and walked over to the open archway that led out to the terrace. Sol Baristani was standing by the marble column, smoking his pipe and talking to Kieran’s parents while the children ate breakfast.

“They’re not happy with us,” Kieran admitted. “I wish we could stay—at least until they got settled in—but Orest is under siege, and the allies are outnumbered.”

“They’ll be all right once their mad wears off,” Sol assured him. “You two go do what you must. And take care of yourselves.”

Kieran nodded. “Be well, Master Baristani. Mela. Gepa” He hugged his parents. His mother was no more pleased than Lillis to be losing her son again so soon, but she understood.

He was a warrior of the Fey. His place was with his king, defending the Fading Lands from harm.

At least he and Kiel wouldn’t be going alone. After Kieran’s altercation with the Massan, Loris v’En Mahr, the Water master, had followed Eimar’s example and resigned his seat, declaring his intention to travel with Kieran and Kiel to Orest in support of Rain and the allies. He’d put out the word announcing his decision and inviting all who shared his concerns to join them. Three thousand more Fey and more than forty shei’dalins had done so.

Celieria ~ Verlaine Forest

The Mharog Azurel stood at the northern edge of the Verlaine Forest, draped in a long, hooded, black shroud to keep the mud-morning sunlight from falling upon his skin. He and the others who’d once been Champions of Light were creatures of Darkness now, and sunlight scorched their flesh like fire.

Pale lids descended over nightmarish eyes, and he turned his head slowly in a half circle to scan the forest for his prey. Put a shei’dalin within a hundred miles of a Mharog, and he could find her. A shei’dalin’s Light—the same Light that in his previous Fey existence had offered the promise of profound love and joy—shone to his Mharog eyes like a garish sun. And her Light blazed so bright it set the horizon aflame. To his surprise, smaller Lights—many of them—lay in a cluster to the east of the Tairen Soul’s mate.

Hatred and loathing consumed him. Watching Rain Tairen Soul scream and rend his own flesh when she died would be a pleasure he’d savor for centuries.

His eyes snapped open. A hiss rattled from his throat. “The village is there,” he told his companions. He pointed to the south, where he’d seen the cluster of smaller Lights. “The Tairen Soul and his mate are there.”

“If Tairen Soul and his mate have left the village, why hasn’t he just Changed and flown away?” Rachuss, one of the Mharog, asked.

“This wood is filthy with traps,” Primage Dur answered. “Poison darts shoot down anything that flies. If the Tairen Soul tried to take wing, he’d be dead before he cleared the top of the trees.”

“Then they’re trapped,” Angramar, another Mharog growled. “Can we use the Well to reach them?”

Dur shook his head. “We’ve not been successful keeping chemar in this region,” he said. “The dahl’reisen destroy them as quickly as we put them in place.”

“We will run them down on foot, then,” Azurel said. “You Mages, take the soldiers and head for the village. Chernos”—he nodded his cowled head at another robed Mharog—“will accompany you so you don’t lose your way. The rest of us will follow the Tairen Soul and his mate.”

“You know what the High Mage commanded,” the Primage objected. “You are not to approach the woman alone.”

“The High Mage commanded me to bring the woman to him alive, and I will do so,” Azurel countered, his voice as smooth as iced silk. “But you and your soldiers slow us down.”

Dur stood his ground. “You go nowhere without us, Mharog.”

Hidden by his robe’s long sleeves, Azurel’s hands clenched into fists, his long, black fingernails digging into his flesh. He’d spent a lifetime hating the Mages. Embracing Darkness hadn’t changed that. It only meant he didn’t kill them as often.

“Very well, then. We split up. Send half your Mages and soldiers with Chernos. The rest of you, follow us. And keep up.”

Farel slowed and jogged back towards Rain and Ellysetta. “The Eld have breached the Verlaine.”

“Mages?” Rain asked.

“Scores of them, all blue-robes. They lead a garrison of soldiers… They have a Mharog with them. They’re heading for the village.”

Ellysetta’s cheeks drained of color. “Because of me?” she asked with dread. She’d removed her blindfold a bell ago. “Did the Mage use me to find the village?”

“I don’t know. We’ve kept you well shielded and we blindfolded you. Everything I know about Mage Marks tells me that should have been enough to protect against four Marks…”

“But?” Rain prompted.

Farel gave him a shuttered look, the kind warriors gave one another when the news was grim. “But there’s a second Eld party heading on an intercept course with us… and they have five Mharog leading them.”

“We’ve got to go back,” Ellysetta exclaimed. “We’ve got to help Sheyl and the others.”