She heard her father sigh again, saw him shift in the periphery of her vision. His hand, broad and bronzed and calloused from his years of woodcarving, reached out to cover hers. Love, rich and sweet and steadfast as love ever had been, poured into her through the touch, along with pride and gratitude, and a thought that rang in her head clear as a bell.

«I love you, my sweet Ellie-girl. No man could love a daughter more, and no man could be prouder than I am of you. Though I will do everything I can to honor your mother's wishes, I won't risk my children's safety needlessly. If trouble comes, the girls and I will pass through the Mists. That's my oath to you.»

Through vision blurred by swimming tears, she met his eyes and saw for herself the truth she could feel through the touch of his skin. It was more than she'd expected. His promise was an oath he considered as binding as the vow he'd made to his wife.

As the wagon continued its swift, smooth roll down the grassy hill towards the fertile plains of the Garreval below, Sol looked out at the majestic mountains and green fields.

"This is a beautiful place," he said. "I think your mama would have been very happy here."

Ellie laid her head on her father's shoulder. "I think so too."

"The redirection weaves are up. The Garreval is secure." Belliard vel Jelani, First General of the Fading Lands, released the net of Spirit threads tying him to the dozens of Fey scouts spread in a five-mile radius around their destination. As they had all week, the warriors had cleared the caravan's path of mortals and spun redirection weaves to turn away curious locals and Eld spies.

Just over three weeks ago, Celierians and their families had lined the roads and cart paths from the Garreval to Celieria City to watch the immortal Fey run past on their annual trek to the nation's capital. This time, not one mortal would see or remember the Fey's passing.

Bel turned to find Rain staring off towards the Fey caravan, his face drawn. "Rain? Something is wrong?" Bel's hand went instinctively to his steel, his fingers hovering over the hilts of his Fey'cha throwing daggers.

"Nei." With obvious effort, Rain dragged his attention back to his best friend. "Well, aiyah, but no different from the wrongness that has followed us since leaving Celieria. She weeps again for her mother."

Bel glanced down at his hands, away from the pain in Rain's lavender eyes. For all his power—impressive even by Fey standards—Rain could not weave the sorrow from his beloved's heart. Oh, he could have spun a rosy illusion of happiness upon her—or asked another Fey to steal her memories—but that was not the Fey way. Both honor and love bound him, and he could do only what Fey men had for centuries: stand strong for his mate and offer what comfort his love could provide.

"You should go to her," Bel said.

Rain sighed and shook his head. "Nei, she needs him more than me now—someone who loved her mother as deeply as she did."

Bel had known Rain too long not to hear the comment left unsaid. "Everything Lauriana Baristani did, she did for love," he reminded Rain gently. "And in the end she gave her life to save her child."

"I realize that," Rain replied, "but I cannot pretend an affection I never felt."

Bel nudged a large clump of field grass with the toe of one black boot. Lauriana had never wanted Ellysetta to wed the Fey king, and she'd made sure everyone—including Rain—knew it. "Perhaps," he finally said, "Ellysetta doesn't need you to pretend love you did not feel. Perhaps it is enough just to know you are there, loving her."

"She knows." Rain swept a sharp gaze over the valley below. "There's been no unusual activity in the last four days, and not a single person following us since we left Celieria City. I'm not sure if I should be relieved or suspicious. The Eld I knew would never let us get away so easily."

Bel took the hint. "Perhaps our decoys are working." A separate party of Fey had gone north, towards Orest, accompanied by a magic-warded wagon, so that Eld spies might think it held Ellysetta and her family.

"Let us hope so," Rain said, his face set in stone. "But let us also prepare for the alternative—and not only from the Mages. If the dahl'reisen learn that Ellysetta can restore souls…"

Ice shivered through Bel's veins. "You don't think Gaelen would—" His voice broke off in disbelief, then surged back in protest. "He is Ellysetta's lu'tan." After Ellysetta restored his soul, Gaelen had bloodsworn himself to her service, vowing to protect her for the duration of his life and the death that followed. No lu'tan would break that vow. "Gaelen is Fey once more. His honor has been restored. Do not forget, without him Ellysetta would already be in the hands of the Mages."

Rain's jaw set. "I have not forgotten. Nor do I forget that all it takes is one look at his face without that scar, and his dahl'reisen friends will know the truth." Of all the Fey, only dahl'reisen scarred, and only when they made the kill that tipped their immortal souls into darkness. When Ellysetta had restored Gaelen's soul, she'd wiped his dahl'reisen scar from existence. "No matter what trust you may feel for Gaelen as a fellow lu'tan, do not let your guard down. The dahl'reisen cannot be trusted, and they could attempt to use his long acquaintance with them to their advantage."

Rain's expression grew grim. Bel felt the brief surge of power, quickly harnessed, that came in response to whatever unpleasant thoughts were crossing Rain's mind.