It was in part because Bel found Gaelen a worthy friend that Rain had abandoned the old prejudices that still kept Tajik and vel Serranis at odds.

"You say you discovered the Eld before they could make it past the inner gates. Was there any indication of what their mission was?

"I can think of any number of reasons a general would send such a small party into an enemy fortress, and even more reasons why the Eld would do so." Bel glanced at Ellysetta,

There's more," Lord Teleos said. "The dahl'reisen and the Black Guard are dead, but we managed to take one of the Primages alive. The others killed themselves so they couldn't be questioned, but we're keeping this one unconscious and restrained by a twenty-five-fold weave. If we can Truthspeak him before he has time to invoke his death spell, we might learn something."

Rain frowned. "The shei'dalins haven't already done so?" It was rare to capture a Mage alive, even rarer to keep him that way for any length of time.

"Once they sensed dahl'reisen in the city, their quintets insisted on taking them through the Mists. They won't be back until morning at the earliest."

"What about the wounded?" Ellysetta asked.

"The hearth witches have the situation well in hand kem’falla," Bel said. "This attack looks much worse than it really is. I suspect the whole effort is a diversion meant to hold our attention while the raiding party we intercepted snuck through our defenses."

"So you're saying the only one here to Truthspeak the Mage is me."

Aggression slammed through Rain's body. "That's out of the question!" He lunged into the space between Ellysetta and her quintet, thrusting her behind him in a Fey male's instinctive gesture of protection. "Nei, I forbid it," he reiterated when it looked tike Gaelen or Bel might object. "She bears Mage Marks. We have no idea what touching a Primage of Eld—let alone trying to Truthspeak him—would do to her, what doors it might open. Better we get nothing at all from this Mage than risk Ellysetta."

Bel and Gaelen looked away. Even Teleos couldn't hold his gaze. They'd really considered it. They'd really thought Ellysetta might—

"Rain, if there's a chance we can find out what the Eld are planning, isn't it worth the risk?" Ellysetta spoke in a low voice, pitched for his ears only. "Think of the lives we could save. Koderas is lit. You said yourself that means Celieria is in grave danger. If 1 can Truthspeak this Mage, I might discover something that will help us prepare our defenses."

He spun to face her and gripped her arms. "I know you want to help, but this is not the way, Ellysetta. Be sensible. You've never Truthspoken anyone before in your life. A Primage is hardly an appropriate test subject." He shook his head. "Nei. It's far too dangerous in every possible way. Put the idea out of your mind, because it isn't going to happen."

"We could send word to the other side of the Mists." Gillandaris vel Jendahr, Ellysetta's Air master, made the suggestion. Gil's black eyes sparkled with silvery lights like stars shining in a night sky, contrasting vividly with the alabaster paleness of his Fey skin and the even paler hair that he wore bound at his nape with a simple, unadorned tie and left to fall to his waist in a shower of snowy whiteness. His expression was serious—almost grim. He was a blade's blade, hard edged and dangerous. The kind of warrior more likely to slit throats than laugh at jokes, though with his friends he did on occasion display a wit every bit as sharp as his blades.

"The shei'dalins who left Orest are still in the Mists," Gil was saying, "but there are others camped just on the other side. They might be able to get here soon enough to Truthspeak this Mage before he fights off the sleep spell and suicides like the others."

"Summon them," Rain commanded.

"Already done," Bel answered. The hazy lavender glow of his Spirit weave still lit his eyes. 'Two shei’dalins and their quintets are on the way. They should arrive in a few bells." Revan-Oreth, the Mist-shrouded pass guarded by Kiyera's Veil, wasn't particularly long in miles, but it was a steep, winding, treacherous mountain path. Even before the Mists were raised, Revan-Oreth had been a slow road to travel.

"Which shei'dalins are coming?"

"Narena and Faerah vol Oros."

Rain took a breath. The women were two of the Fading Lands' most powerful shei'dalins, and he knew exactly why they were coming. "Call fifty of our strongest warriors. I want those two guarded at all times." The vol Oros line was one of the most powerful surviving families of the Fey. One of Faerah and Narena's two brothers—both now dead—had been a Tairen Soul, and their eldest sister, Nicolene, had been captured by the Eld during the battle of Teleon. Rain would bet every blade he owned that Faerah and Narena's offer to Truthspeak the captured Mage had more to do with their hope of discovering what had happened to their sister than any desire to find useful military intelligence.

Eld - Bowra Fell

"You're late, umagi." A cuff from one meaty paw accompanied the Eld guard's irritable growl.

The small, ragged, dark-haired girl who'd received both the greeting and the blow stifled a hiss of pain and skittered to one side to avoid the following kick. She was usually more adept at dodging Turog's fists, but she'd been distracted by the battered woman strapped to the table in the center of the room.

When she'd entered the mating cell and caught sight of the masses of tangled black hair and the feint silvery glow of the woman on the table, the girl had frozen in her steps. For a few, dizzying instants, she'd thought it was Shia, the pretty, black-haired, blue-eyed woman who'd loved to brush the girl's hair and sing her sweet songs. Shia, who'd given the worthless umagi girl the name she now called herself: Melliandra.