Ellysetta flinched at the sound of the lock snapping closed. "We'll go to the king," she vowed. "We'll have Marissya Truthspeak you while you tell him what's happening in the north. He'll have to believe you.”

"There isn't time for that. Go. Do what you must. I will be fine." He didn't resist as the soldiers led him away. "Get her to the cathedral, vel Jelani!" he called over his shoulder. "And get those shields up as soon as you cross the bridge." To Ellysetta's shock, he threw back his head and laughed. "Miora felah ti'Feyreisa! And gods bless meddling Celierian queens!”

"Why is he laughing? What did he mean, `bless the queen?' " She turned to Bel and found hint staring after Gaelen with a peculiar expression on his face. “Bel?”

Bel turned back and flashed a quick signal to Cyr, who hurried to Ellysetta's side and wove Fire to draw the worst of the heat from her burned hands. Around them, the remaining Celierian guards backed carefully away, clearing the path to the cathedral.

"Look at your hands, Ellysetta." Bel's cobalt eyes gleamed bright. "The sel'dor burned you. Badly. And you weren't even weaving magic”

Her eyes widened in sudden realization. "Sel'dor doesn't burn Eld flesh”

"Nei," he agreed, "it doesn't. Such a strong reaction can mean only one thing." A dazzling smile broke across his face. "Beyond a shadow of a doubt, Ellysetta, you are Fey. Full-blooded, immensely powerful Fey.”

Whatever the High Mage was to her, he was definitely not her father.

Selianne was already at the cathedral when Lauriana arrived. The younger woman was standing in silent prayer at a shrine of the lesser goddess, Asha, guardian of health, hearth, and family. As Lauriana approached, Selianne removed a golden pendant from her neck and placed it in the altar's offering bowl alongside the coins and jewelry left by previous supplicants.

"Someone in your family is ailing, Selianne?”

The girl gave a startled jump and spun around. "Madame Baristani! I didn't hear you come in." She clasped a hand to her chest as if to still her pounding heart. "Yes, I'm afraid my mother hasn't been feeling quite herself lately.”

"Oh, dear, I'm so sorry to hear that. I hope it's nothing serious.”

"A minor chest ailment. But after that nasty bout she suffered this past winter, I promised myself I'd make a point of praying for divine healing sooner rather than later.”

Lauriana forced a smile and tried to tamp down her own nerves. She wanted to take Selianne into her confidence, but she didn't dare. Selianne had no necklace to keep her thoughts secure from Fey intrusion, and Lauriana couldn't risk the chance of discovery.

A whisper of soft leather soles on the marble floor brought her spinning around. The archbishop walked towards them down the center of the nave. As usual, his tunic was a pure, pristine white. But this morning, even the sleeveless robe worn over his tunic was white rather than blue, a symbol of his recently purified soul and his readiness to perform the sacred rites of the Bride's Blessing. "Good morning, Madame Baristani, Madame Pyerson.”

Lauriana and Selianne both sank into curtseys and kissed his extended ring.

He turned his stern gaze on Lauriana. "Are you ready, Madame Baristani?”

She swallowed and nodded. "As ready as any mother can be on such a day.”

"Put your heart at ease, madam," he offered with an uncharacteristic show of kindness. "It will all work out for the best. You'll see.”

A muffled commotion sounded near the main cathedral entrance. Five Fey in full steel strode into the nave. A young man in the blue tunic and robes of a novitiate priest hurried after them. "Sers! You cannot enter the cathedral with weapons! It is forbidden!”

Lauriana recognized the Fey as one of the groups of warriors who guarded her home and her daughter. Their leader-What was his name? Ravel something-bowed and extended a sealed letter to the archbishop. "Greatfather, we come with the authorization of King Dorian, to secure the cathedral before the Feyreisa's arrival.”

Lauriana's breath caught in her throat. Secure the cathedral? By the king's authority? Lauriana's vague worries coalesced into sudden, sharp fear. Had the Fey somehow realized what she and the archbishop had arranged? Had Father Nivane's charm failed and allowed them to pick up some wayward, betraying thought? Her hands knotted together, and fear buzzed in her veins, leaving her breathless and dizzy. Calm down, Laurie, and think of something else.

The archbishop snatched the parchment from the Fey's fingertips, ripped open the seal, and scanned the document.

"Your king," the Fey continued as the archbishop read, "has granted us the right to search both the nave and the Solarus where you will conduct the rites of the Bride's Blessing.”

The archbishop's hand began to clench around the note, but he stopped himself before committing the petty treason of crumpling the king's missive. Instead, he collected his composure with visible effort and gave the Fey an icy glare. "Search, then, but be quick about it. I'll not have your weapons polluting the Bright Lord's house more than a moment necessary. Are you the leader of these men?”

Ravel bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment.

"Then only you-under my supervision-may search the altar, luminary, and Solarus. And you will not bring steel or magic to any of those holiest of places. That is not negotiable.”