“Which one of you is Farel?” Bel asked.

“I am,” said the dahl’reisen with dark brown hair and a scar that curved across his neck and up his cheek.

Gaelen had shown Bel an image of Farel before they left camp. The dahl’reisen who had stepped forward was indeed the one shown in Gaelen’s weave. “I am Belliard vel Jelani, Chatokkai of the Fading Lands.”

“I know who you are, Belliard vel Jelani.”

Bel’s brows arched. “We have met?”

“Nei. A friend showed me your image once.”

“I didn’t know dahl’reisen had friends,” Gil said in a cold voice.

Farel gave a bark of humorless laughter. “And here I thought, as bloodsworn defenders of the Feyreisa, we might meet in peace.”

“This is peace,” Tajik said in a cold voice. “You’re standing before us, and we’re letting you live.”

“A mercy most apprecia…” Farel’s sardonic reply hung in midword as Gaelen released his invisibility weave and appeared at Bel’s side. “… ted.” The last syllable of the word dropped from Farel’s mouth into a stunned silence. Farel swallowed. “General.”

“I’ve asked you repeatedly to call me Gaelen.”

Farel’s face went blank as he looked at Gaelen surrounded by the other Fey. “You are… with them? But you are—” His voice broke off.

Bel saw the dahl’reisen’s eyes narrow as he scanned Gaelen’s face, then saw those same eyes go wide in sudden, shocked understanding.

“Your scar… it’s gone!”

“Aiyah,” Gaelen confirmed.

“And… the rest? “

“Gone as well. My sister Marissya says my soul is an unsullied as an infant’s.”

Farel’s throat moved on another heavy swallow. “But how is such a thing possi—” He looked up, his eyes filled with certainty. “The Feyreisa.”

“Aiyah,” Gaelen answered. “Which is why, my friend, I must ask if there are any of you—either those who have already sworn their bonds, or those who wish to—who might break it if they discovered she can do this?” He pointed to his unscarred face.

With Steli and the other two tairen flying overhead, Rain, Ellysetta, Eimar, and the Fey lu’tan ran north along the edge of the Verlaine towards the dahl’reisen camp.

Bel and Gaelen had sent word of their findings earlier in the dahl’reisen camp. There had been a handful of questionable dahl’reisen among Farel’s assemblage, but Gaelen assured Rain they had been dealt with. Rain didn’t ask how, and Gaelen didn’t volunteer any more information, except to say there was no chance they might harm Ellysetta or the Fey, now or in the future.

A mile before they reached the camp, Xisanna and Perhal flew ahead to make certain all was well, while Steli landed and stalked protectively behind her adopted kitling, ready to scorch the first threat that reared its head.

Farel and Ellysetta’s primary quintet were waiting to greet them at the curve of the last hill. The moment the Fey rounded the last hill and stepped foot on the field where the dahl’reisen had gathered, they froze in their tracks.

“I don’t believe it,” Eimar whispered.

“I had no idea there could be so many,” Ellysetta breathed.

“Nor did I,” Rain said in a hoarse voice. He swallowed to moisten his dry throat and gazed across the vale with stunned eyes. Stretched out before them, more than a mile in every direction, were row after row of tents. An entire army—a very, very large army—was camped at the edge of the Verlaine Forest.

Not just a few hundred. Not even the few thousand Rain had suspected there were.

Tens of thousands.

“So tell me, Farel,” he rasped, “exactly how many blades do you count in the Brotherhood of Shadows?”

Beside him, Farel smiled. It was the first genuine smile Rain had ever seen on the dahl’reisen’s face. The warrior cast a proud gaze over his assembled brothers. “Dahl’reisen? Thirty thousand. Sons of dahl’reisen? Another forty.”

Rain almost choked on his own tongue. Gods save him. Seventy thousand.

Seventy thousand.

Twice the number of all the Fey still living.

Rain’s stunned gaze traveled across the seemingly endless sea of warriors, the outcast sons of his homeland. And he saw the pride on their scarred faces, the renewed light of hope shining from eyes that had been dark with shadow for centuries.

“They all wish to serve the Fading Lands,” Bel said. “All thirty thousand dahl’reisen have asked to bloodswear themselves to Ellysetta, and fight on her behalf to regain some part of their honor as you allowed Farel and his men to do. Their sons have offered their bonds as well.”

“I will accept dahl’reisen bonds,” Ellysetta said, “but not the bond of any Fey who still has a chance to find his truemate.”

“Some might argue that sons of dahl’reisen are not Fey, Ellysetta.” “They’re Fey enough.”

Bel smiled. “As I was saying, even the young ones are good fighters. The dahl’reisen have taught them well.”

Eimar couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Bel? You truly approve of this? You trust these dahl’reisen?”

Bel shrugged. “Two nights ago, I would have called Rain a fool for allowing dahl’reisen to bloodswear to the Feyreisa. But today… well, today, he and the Feyreisa are alive because of them… and I”—he lifted his hands in a dazed gesture—“I learned that I have a nephew. My brother Ben, didn’t die in the Wars as I thought. He joined the Brotherhood of Shadows and mated a Celierian woman. They had a son before he died fighting the Mages.”