Rain frowned at her. "You bring pride to this Fey," he replied. "Never believe otherwise." He shook his head. "There is an attempt in the Celierian Council to reopen the Eld borders. I have urged Dorian not to do so, but there is opposition in the Council of Lords. He is holding this dinner in our honor in order that he and I might present a united front against those who oppose him. Marissya has sworn a Fey oath guaranteeing that you and I will be there. That makes it impossible for us not to go. But even without Marissya's oath, if Dorian asks for my help to keep the Eld out of Celieria, then I must give it.”

"According to the papers, the Elden ambassador just wants to open trade between our countries again," Ellie said. "That doesn't seem like such a bad thing.”

"It is never 'just' trade with the Eld.”

"How can you be sure?”

"Because I know the Eld. Because I sense the darkness. The serpent is there, waiting in the grass. It has been coiled so quietly for so long, Celierians have forgotten it. Even among the Fey, there are those who have forgotten how quickly the serpent can strike, how insidious and lethal is its venom. They think we can walk the path and not be bitten.”

"But you don't think so.”

"I am unwilling to take the chance." His face was grim, his eyes shadowed. "I have seen what Elden Mages can do to a Fey. I hope never to see it again.”

Ellie remembered the torment Rain had shared with her in the museum that first night. She never again wanted to witness—even secondhand—anything remotely like the horrors he had experienced in the Wars.

"Then of course we must go," she said, forcing down her own curl of dread. She'd met a number of Celierian nobles when assisting her father, and for every one she'd thought was kind, she'd met ten more who weren't. She had no illusions about the kind of reception she would receive from them. "Perhaps we won't have to stay long?”

"Longer than I would like," he grumbled. "Celieria's noble families are full of dark-souled creatures. I have never been able to abide them.”

"Well, let's worry about tomorrow when it comes," she declared, pushing aside her useless fears. "For now, we have a mess to clean up." She bent to gather up the pattern books and all their torn pages.

The sensation came without warning, like deadly ice spiders crawling up her spine. Every hair on Ellie's body stood on end. The pattern books spilled from her hands to the floor. She jerked up and instinctively grabbed hold of Rain's arm, leaning into his strength and shivering.

"Shei'tani?" His concern was instant. "What is it?”

"I—" As suddenly as the feeling had come, it was gone. She exhaled. "Nothing.”

"Ellysetta." His hands cupped her face, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Do not keep things from me. I am your mate. You must trust me. I can sense your fear, but not what caused it. Tell me what it was you felt." He was frowning, his black brows drawn together, his eyes intent and demanding.

"It's nothing. Just a ghost treading on my grave”

"A ghost? A wandering soul?”

She laughed a little. "I didn't mean that literally. It's just an old Celierian saying for when something makes you frightened for no reason.”

"Old sayings are usually grounded in old truths," Rain told her, still frowning. "Have you had such feelings before?”

"On and off, ever since I was a child." She gave him a lopsided smile. "It's one of the many little oddities about me that make me undesirable as a Celierian bride. The feelings never seem to mean anything in particular. They just scare me a little." But not nearly as much as those waking nightmares that left her sobbing in agony and terror just before a seizure. She forced a reassuring smile to her face. "I'm fine. I'm sure it's nothing.”

Opening his Fey senses, Rain stretched the limits of his awareness, his mind filling with thousands of thoughts, mundane, mortal, many dark but none an obvious threat to the young woman by his side. In addition, he probed for the telltale reddish-black glow of Azrahn. He found nothing.

He glanced at Love, but the kitten was still purring on Kieran's shoulder. Whatever the wandering soul was, it did not trigger fear in Love the way magic apparently did.

Because he could sense no danger, he nodded. "Very well, then. It must indeed have been nothing." But his instincts urged caution. He met Bel's eyes. He didn't need to say a word. Bel simply nodded. The Fey would be on their guard.

High Mage Vadim Maur dipped his quill in the inkpot beside him and recorded the details of his latest experiment on a piece of blank parchment. The waterclock on the wall of his office softly chimed the first silver bells of the evening. Even without the clock, he knew the sun had set over Eld. The tingle of magic in his flesh had strengthened, as it did every night when light retreated from the world. Azreisenahn, the dark magic of the Mages more commonly known as Azrahn, thrived in the night. The darker the sky, the greater his magic, and the more powerful the spells he could cast.

Next to the waterclock, a mechanical moonclock ticked slowly. The golden orb representing the Great Sun had disappeared, and the small globes representing the two moons had risen. Painted half white and half black, the globes had rotated on their slender brass rods to show the current moonphase. Unfortunately, both the Mother and Daughter had just waxed full, and his magic was at its lowest ebb of the year. Discovery of the girl—if she was indeed the one he'd been searching for so long—couldn't have come at a worse time.