Queen of Song and Souls (34 page)

Bel snatched the Fey'cha out of the air with casual ease and handed it back to Ellysetta, hilt first. "Try again,
kem'falla."

She waited for Rijonn to clear out of the way, then sent the next dagger spinning towards the tree. Once again it sank, quivering, into a spot below the knot she'd been aiming for.

"Well, you're consistent, at least," Gil said with a grin.

He tossed back the blade, and Bel handed it to Ellysetta again. "This is why
chadins
practice for so many years. Give it another try."

She threw the blade a third time, and a fourth and fifth. Always, the result was the same: She consistently hit the center of the tree, but below her target.

"Throw again," Gaelen commanded, his eyes narrowed slightly. "But this time, don't aim for the knot; aim for this." His hand flicked out. Green magic swirled from his fingertips, and a red circle appeared on the tree above the knot.

Ellysetta took aim, cocked back her hand, and flung the Fey'cha at the red circle on the tree. The dagger cartwheeled through the air and struck the tree dead center in the middle of the knot she'd missed every other time.

She gave a rueful laugh. "Now I hit it."

"
Kabei
. Now, try this one." Gaelen spun Earth again and another red dot appeared on a tree much, much farther away. "Do you see it?"

"You've got to be joking." The tree was at least two tairen lengths away.

"Can you see it?"

Ellysetta squinted. "Barely." The new target was little more than a pinpoint of scarlet against the distant tree.

"Kabei.
Now try to hit it."

"Gaelen, don't be a dim-skull." Bel scowled at his friend.

"Shh." Gaelen put a finger to his lips.
"Kem’falla?
Take aim and throw your blade."

"It's too far," Bel protested. "If she can't hit a larger target at a third the distance, how do you expect her to hit a pinpoint at two tairen lengths?"

"Humor me.
Teska,
Ellysetta, take your stance."

Bel rolled his eyes but stepped back so Ellysetta could take clear aim at her target. She set her feet and drew back her throwing arm.

"Concentrate," Gaelen advised. "Calculate the distance, the force you will need to throw so far. See the blade's path in your mind. Do you see it?"

"I think so."

"Then throw."

Her arm whipped forward. The blade whirled through the air in a swift, blurred arc. It hit the target tree dead center... but again well below the red dot.

"Well-done,
kem’falla
," Gaelen praised. "Well-done indeed."

She scowled. "Well-done if you want me to hit consistently below my target, you mean."

"Nei. Your aim was perfect. You hit a target the size of a sand fly from two tairen lengths away."

Bel gave a disbelieving laugh, "I think you need the Feyreisa to check your eyesight,
kem'maresk.
She missed that tiny little red dot by two handspans, at least."

"The red dot wasn't the target." A slow, satisfied smile spread over Gaelen's face. '"Jonn, go inspect her blade. Tell me what you see."

The Earth master shot forward with a speed that seemed incongruous with his great height, and his exceedingly long legs crossed the distance in no time. "There's a second target," he called, "and she hit it dead-on. Gil, come look at this."

Curious, the black-eyed Fey leapt off the fallen log he'd been sitting on and ran to join his friend. After a brief inspection and an exchange of words Ellysetta couldn't hear, Gil yanked the blade from the tree and he and Rijonn came running hack.

"There was a second target." Gil held up the Fey'cha. A small circle of brown leather was pinned to its tip.

Rain, who had hung back with the Elves to observe Ellysetta's lessons, stepped forward. "Let me see." He held out a hand for Ellysetta's Fey'cha. The brown leather circle at its tip had been sliced almost in two—dead center, just as Gaelen had said.

"I wasn't aiming for that," Ellysetta confessed. "I never even saw it.”

Gaelen's smile grew wider. "I know, Ellysetta. I made the real target brown specifically so you (couldn't see it. But I put it where your blade would hit if your aim at the red circle was true.”

"I don't understand." She took back her Fey'cha from Rain and returned it to its sheath. "How can you say my aim was true when I missed what I was aiming at?"

"Because your aim
was
true. It's your reach that is lacking."

"Explain," Rain said.

"It's actually easier to show you than tell you. If you would indulge me?” He waved Rain and the others back. "This will require a little room."

Ellysetta had turned to watch Rain back up a short distance, when suddenly Gaelen called, "Ellysetta,
bote hammanas!"
Hands at the ready!

That was all the warning he gave her before one of his own black-handled blades flew through the air straight towards her.

Her mind froze in surprise, but an instinct she'd never known she possessed took command of her body. Even before she realized what she was doing, she snatched the whirling blade out of the air and sent it flying back towards Gaelen in a single smooth, graceful motion.

He caught the dagger on its return flight with similar ease and launched a second blade immediately. He launched a third before the second even reached her hand, then a fourth and fifth shortly thereafter. She caught and returned each blade until there was a constant stream of Fey'cha arching through the air between them, and her hands moved with a blurring speed that matched Gaelen's own.

He spoke a word, and the Fey'cha disappeared in the blink of an eye, re-forming securely in the sheaths crisscrossing his chest. Silently, he dissolved the barrier of magic he'd erected to keep Rain and the others from rushing to Ellysetta's rescue when the first of his blades had flown.

The moment the weave was down, Rain leapt forward. His hand shot out and a hammer of power exploded from his fingertips. It slammed into Gaelen and knocked the former
dahl'reisen
off his feet, flinging him several man lengths through the air to smack into a tree. Rain snatched Ellysetta up into his arms, his eyes glowing fierce and deadly bright.

"Every time I begin to trust you, vel Serranis," he snarled, "you insist on proving me a fool for doing so. You dare throw a blade at my
shei'tani
?"

"She was never in any harm," Gaelen muttered. With a grimace, he peeled himself off the tree trunk and gingerly took two experimental steps.

"You didn't know that. What would have happened if she had not caught your Fey'cha?”

"Don't take me for such a dim-skull," Gaelen snapped. "I am her
lu'tan
. I would die before letting her come to the slightest harm—and you need to begin believing that. I can't have you trying to stop me every time I do something without explaining it to you first."

"And yet you knew I would distrust you. That shield was up even before you threw."

Gaelen grimaced. "I know you, Tairen Soul. But put your mind at ease. Before I threw my Fey'cha I spun a weave on them that would have invoked my return word if her catch were even a fraction off."

That admission mollified Rain. His tight, protective grip on Ellysetta loosened, and she slipped free.

"Next time, give a warning."

"I wanted to see what her instincts were. A warning would have negated the test."

"What sort of test, Gaelen?" Ellysetta asked in a shaken voice. She stared at her hands as if they belonged to someone else, then lifted her gaze to his.

Tajik answered in Gaelen's stead. "You reacted to his throw like a warrior dancing the Cha Baruk. Though how vel Serranis knew you would escapes me."

Cha Baruk, the Dance of Knives, was what the Fey called warfare, but it was also the name of the warriors' dance in which deadly blades were tossed back and forth in a show of power and dexterity. Ellysetta turned to Gaelen in confusion. "How did I manage to do that, when I haven't hit a single target I've aimed at since we began?"

"I spun a weave on the blades to make you see them as if they were a bit higher and farther away from your hand than they truly were."

"Why?" Rain asked, his eyes narrowing.

"For the same reason I drew a red circle on a tree when a brown circle was the real target. I knew where her hands would be when she saw my blades coming."

"And how did you know that?" Bel asked softly, his eyes steady on his friend's face.

"Because everything she has done since she gripped her first blade has been without flaw. Every throw she made, the way she held her blades, the way she released them— everything was exactly as I would have done it. The only difference is that I stand a head taller and my reach is a hand or two longer. No one—no matter how natural a talent—just picks up a blade and executes such perfect form the first time they handle a knife."

Gaelen turned to Ellysetta, "You modified the grip Bel showed you before you threw, to put your thumb on the spine of the blade for better guidance and surer aim. Why did you do that?

"I..." She glanced at her hands in surprise. "I don't know. It just felt. . . right that way, more comfortable."

"I throw the
Desriel'chata
the same way. As does Gil. As did our mentor, Shannisoran v'En Celay. It was the grip he taught all his
chadins."

"What are you getting at, Gaelen?" Rain demanded.

"Do you remember that time in Teleon, before we traveled through the Mists, when the seizure took her and she spoke the Warrior's Creed?"

"Of course. It's not something I would ever forget."

"Well, what if the Mages did more than just tie the soul of a tairen to hers? What if they tied the soul of a Fey warrior to hers as well? It would explain how she can kill without suffering the way our women do. And how she knows the words to the Warrior's Creed and throws
Desriel'chata
and dances the Cha Baruk like a Fey who long ago heard the Warriors' Gate whisper his name in greeting."

"You are suggesting that the soul of my
shei'tani
has been somehow ... manufactured ... by the Mages, pieced together from the souls of others. But you forget she is my truemate. That bond only the gods can forge between two souls. Nei." He shook his head. "Nei, there must be some other explanation." Rain turned to the Elf in their midst. "You Saw my
shei’tani’s
need to wield steel like a warrior—did you also see this?"

Fanor shook his head. "Anio, but you should ask your question of the Elf king. He who is Guardian of the Dance Sees many things lesser Seers do not." The Elf waved a hand towards the crackling fire, where the spitted rabbits had turned golden crisp. "Come and eat. The food is ready, and we must ride again soon."

The
Faering Mists

The beautiful Fey lady guided Lillis through the steep cliff paths of the Rhakis. As if in deference to the lady's presence, the Mists thinned while they walked so Lillis could see the tree-filled valley below.

"What is your name?" Lillis asked.

The lady smiled down at her and answered in Celierian. Her voice sounded like music. "You may call me Eiliss, little one.”

"That's a pretty name. My name is Lillis. Where are we going!"

"Someplace where you will be safe."

Lillis scrambled over a hillock. "You're speaking Celierian now."

"Because that is the language you speak."

"Oh." Lillis accepted the answer without question. "Have you seen my Papa or my sister, Lorelle?"

Eiliss brushed the backs of her fingers across Lillis's cheek. "I have,
ajiana.
I'm taking you to them now."

"Really?" Tears of relief pooled in Lillis's eyes. "You mean they're safe?"

"They are, and soon you'll all be together. Will you like that?" The trail turned in a steep U and continued on downward another several tairen lengths before reaching the valley floor.

"Oh, yes." Snowfoot was purring quietly against her chest. The comfort of Eiliss's peaceful Fey presence soothed him, too. Lillis stroked the kitten's downy fur and scratched beneath his tiny black chin. His eyes closed in bliss and his purring grew louder. "What about Kieran and Kiel? Are they safe, too!"

"Their fate is not mine to know, but if they entered the Mists, they will find the welcome due all warriors of the Fey."

When Eiliss smiled into Lillis's eyes as she was doing now, Lillis just knew everything would turn out all right. Her concern for Kieran and Kiel melted away like the fingerling curls of mist swirling around them.

Elvia ~ Deep Woods

"Do you think Gaelen is right about a warrior's soul being tied to mine?”

Ellysetta and Rain walked along the crystalline hanks of an indescribably beautiful Elvish river called the Dreamer, whose bed and banks were lined with sparkling cabochon jewels worn smooth by the river's gentle current.

After their bell's rest at lunchtime, they'd ridden hard and fast throughout the day, stopping only to rest and water their horses. They'd reached the river just before dusk and made camp. Tomorrow, they would cross the Dreamer and enter Deep Woods, the ancient forested heart of Elvia.