Farel approached and laid a hand on the neck of Rain’s mount. “You’ll have to run from here. Not even ba’houda will enter this wood. Do you have the strength to carry your shei’tani and still keep up?”

Rain arched a brow. “You just lead us to safety. I’ll find whatever strength I need to follow.”

The corner of Farel’s mouth lifted. “Then follow, Tairen Soul.” He turned and plunged into the dense, dark forest of the Verlaine.

Rain adjusted Ellysetta in his arms, set his jaw, and ran.

Eld ~ Boura Fell

“Escaped? What do you mean my prizes have escaped?”

Primage Vargus stood before Vadim Maur, shaking like a leaf in a hard wind. “The dahl’reisen were using their invisibility weave—the one that renders them completely undetectable. They came in such numbers, with no warning, and they destroyed all the chemar in the area so we couldn’t flank them. We searched for them, but found no sign of their tracks. We can only assume they’ve crossed the river and taken refuge in the Verlaine by now.”

Vadim paced, the hem of his purple robes swirling around his feet with each brisk step and sharp pivot. He’d been waiting impatiently for the arrival of Ellysetta Baristani, and when she had not been delivered to him within one bell of her capture, he’d gone looking for an explanation—and found Vargus in the war room, sweating a river as he tried frantically to coordinate a doomed search for the missing captives.

“We did at least recover the Tairen Soul’s blood, Most High.”

Vadim stopped abruptly in a billow of purple velvet. “Did we?”

Vargus nodded. “Quite a lot of it. Enough for Primage Grule to ensure that the next time the Tairen Soul flies near Eld will be his last.”

“See it done.”

Vargus bowed and exited the room.

Vadim began to pace once more. The dahl’reisen. They’d been a thorn in his side for centuries, slaughtering his umagi, foiling the raids he sent to bring back the magical offspring from the breeders he’d released into Celieria in the hopes of creating a greater and more powerful pool of prospective breeders. He’d captured a number of the dahl’reisen over the years and added their gifts to the bloodlines he was creating. For that usefulness—and because he hadn’t wanted to tip his hand to the Celierians—he’d never sent a large enough force into Celieria to kill them.

But now—incredibly—it seemed the dahl’reisen had joined forces with the Fey.

And that was an alliance he could not allow.

Vadim wrenched open the door to his office and barked a curt command to Zev.

“Summon the Mharog.”

Melliandra leaned close to the bars of Lord Death’s cell and spoke in a low voice. “Remember I once asked you if you could show me how to unravel a ward?”

Lord Death’s head was bent over his bowl as he scooped hot stew into his mouth. At her question, his glowing green eyes looked up, pinning her. “I remember. I also remember telling you it takes magic to unweave magic.”

“What if someone just recently discovered they have magic? Could you teach them how to use it?”

His eyes narrowed. “I used to be a chatok… a teacher. But learning magic takes time.”

“What if you don’t have much time?”

“That would be unfortunate. Instruction cannot be rushed.”

She took a breath. She couldn’t believe she was about to suggest this. “What if you didn’t exactly instruct?” She swallowed, and forced herself to spit it out. “Mages control people. They make them do things, even magical things.”

“Mages do many things Fey do not. Controlling others through magic is one of those.”

“Yes, but could you if you had to?”

Lord Death’s brows drew together. “What are you thinking, child? What are you asking me to do?”

“There’s an important battle coming. The High Mage is planning to personally oversee it. He’ll be leaving Boura Fell. It would be the perfect time to get your things.”

The Fey set down his bowl and gripped the cage bars.

“When?”

“In a few days. Like I said, there’s not much time. That’s why I need to know, if I can bring you someone with magic, and I show you the wards that need to be unraveled, can you—I don’t know—spin a weave of some kind to control their magic so they can unravel the wards?” “Who is this magic user? How do you know you can trust him?”

She bit her lip. Once her secret was shared, it could never be unshared. But then, she’d already shared other secrets with this Fey, ones that would be far more perilous to her if he ever revealed them.

“Her, not him. The magic user is a girl. And I know I can trust her, because she’s me.”

Celieria ~ Orest

“I am very glad to see you, my friend.” Teleos clasped Griffet Polwyr’s forearms. The neighboring Border Lord’s men had been deployed in lower Orest, while the nobleman himself had been escorted to the command center in Upper Orest.

“And I you, my friend. I saw the signal and the fire in the sky”—he jerked his chin towards the tairen and dragon fighting claw and fang overhead—“and thought you could use a hand.”

Despite the grim circumstances, Teleos laughed. “You thought right. I’ve never been happier to see your ugly face.” He and Griffet had been friends since they were lads. Griff’s second son bore Dev’s name.