Their gazes battled for a several moments before Hawksheart sighed and conceded. "Very well. You may all come. But none of you will reveal what you see to another— not through any method of communication, spoken or unspoken— and I will have your sworn Fey oaths on that."

"Agreed," Rain said. "I do so swear."

After the others gave their own oaths of secrecy, Hawksheart led them though an archway into the center of the enormous Sentinel tree called Grandfather. The trunk opened up to a soaring, cathedral-like hollow. Stairs twined up the interior of the hollow in helix patterns and joined together the numerous levels of graceful balconies that ringed the throne room.

"Rain," Ellysetta whispered, "look." She pointed to the ceiling high overhead, where glowing lights formed a shifting pattern that looked like clouds moving across a blue sky. As they watched, the lights left the ceiling and flew about in a complex aerial dance. "They're butterflies!" Ellysetta exclaimed. When the butterflies resettled, their pattern had changed to a sun shining over a forest meadow blooming with flowers. "How beautiful."

"The damia enjoy your admiration, Ellysetta Erimea," Hawksheart said with a smile as the scene on the ceiling changed again into an image of two tairen flying across blue skies.

At the center of the chamber, the Elf king's throne rose up on a large mound shaped like an exquisitely detailed forest. Aquilines, Shadars, and countless other creatures peeked out between the trunks and leaves of the trees. The entire thing was a solid piece of smooth golden wood that looked as if it had grown in place from the heart of the Sentinel tree.

Expressionless Elvian guards stood at attention at the four corners of the throne, and another two stood beside a small, rune-etched door set into the rear of the throne. The door opened as Hawksheart approached to reveal a long, winding stair that led down below the throne.

As they descended, Rain's nose filled with the aroma of rich, earthy life, redolent with magic. The scent reminded him of the caverns deep in the heart of Fey'Bahren. No sconces burned along the walls, but tiny glowing golden orbs gave off just enough light that the Fey could place their feet without fear of falling. The stair itself seemed hollowed out of the tree, the walls smooth and unmarred. There was no railing to hold on to, but there was no need. The passage was so narrow Rain's armor-clad shoulders nearly rubbed the walls as he walked.

After what seemed an eternity, the stair finally opened to a dark cavern and a pool buried deep in the earth. No flames flickered within, but the pool in the center glowed bright blue from phosphorescent mosses lining it, and the soft light lit the entire chamber.

"This is the great mirror of Navahele," Hawksheart told them when they had all gathered beside the pool. "It is the reason I requested your presence here, and the reason I would accept no ambassador sent by the Fey in your stead."

"Explain," Rain prompted. Already the hairs on the back of his neck were tingling as his tairen senses went on alert. This was Elvish magic—the very root of it—and Hawksheart had something up his sleeve.

«There is no need for your distrust.» Hawksheart's voice plunged directly into Rain's mind, calm and commanding. «I only seek a better understanding of your truemate's song.» Aloud, he said, "When a person calls a Song in the Dance, sometimes the verses of that Song are revealed more clearly when the Caller peers into the mirror. I had hoped, Rainier Feyreisen, that you and your mate would come when I first sent my ambassador to meet you in Celieria City. There were many verses your mate's Song could have played then."

Rain moved closer to Ellysetta. "And now?"

"Fewer. All of them dangerous. Most of them shadowed."

Ellysetta's fingers closed around Rain's wrist, and her sudden rush of fear brought his protective instincts to the fore.

"Are you saying the Mage will succeed in claiming my soul?" she asked.

Hawksheart tilted his head. His eyes fixed on her face unblinkingly as he admitted, "Several possibilities of your Song end on that note."

"Is there no hope?"

"If there were none, I would not have sent Fanor to you except as an assassin."

A warning growl rumbled in Rain's throat, and Ellysetta's quintet instantly closed ranks around her, fingers hovering over red Fey'cha hilts.

Hawksheart held up his hands. "Peace. The laws of Elvish hospitality are inviolable. Once you crossed the river Elva at my invitation, every Elf and forest dweller has ensured your protection."

The assurance didn't settle Ellysetta's quintet. Their hands remained hovering over their steel, and their expressions remained stony, emotionless masks.

A sudden creaking groan broke the tense silence. The satin-smooth, seamless wooden walls of the chamber trembled, and the waters of the glowing blue pool rippled.

Rain dropped to a slight crouch—both to keep his balance and to prepare for an attack. His pupils widened, tairen and Fey vision combining, as he scanned the dim chamber with sudden suspicion, looking for the threat.

"What Elvish trick is this?" he snapped. Around Ellysetta, the quintet struggled to keep their balance as the wood beneath their feet shifted and bucked like a living creature.

"Grandfather does not like the threat of steel so close to his heartwood," Hawksheart replied. "Put him at ease, my friends. Move your hands away from your blades."

Warily, the quintet pulled their hands away from their blades. A moment later, the groaning tremors ceased and the floor beneath their feet went still and solid once more.