"Demons!" Warriors near the fallen men shouted the warning. "Five-fold weaves, Fey!" Powerful weaves flared to life, but between the demons, their invisible attackers, and the hail of sel'dor arrows raining down. Fey were dropping at alarming rates.

"Where are they?" someone cried. "Flames scorch it, I can't see anything!"

“They're using the Brotherhood's invisibility weaves, like they did in Orest," Gaelen shouted over the din, "If we can find the ones spinning the weaves, we can bring them down."

"Fat lot of use that is," Tajik snarled. "If we can't find the rultsharts shooting those jaffing arrows, how the scorching Hells are we going to find the bogrots spinning those weaves?"

"Well, we'd better do something, and fast," Bel snapped in reply. "Because they're slaughtering us like sheep in a pen."

On the west flank, a red Fey'cha struck the holder of one of the invisibility weaves in the throat. A body sprawled in the grass, Fey in appearance, except for the scar that ran from temple to the corner of his mouth.

"Dahl'reisen!" the lu'tan closest to the body cried. The dead dahl'reisen's invisibility weave winked out, revealing a company of Elden archers and three blue-robed Primages. "Dahl'reisen are holding the invisibility weaves!"

The warrior who'd slain the dahl'reisen fell to his knees, shrieking as if his skin were being peeled off his body. Fey could not kill other Fey—not even dahl'reisen—without losing their own soul in the process, but the lu'tan had bound their souls in service to Ellysetta. They could not become dahl'reisen. Apparently, however, they still felt the agony of taking a life that had once been Fey.

"Blessed gods," Ellysetta wept as an echo of his agony ripped across his lute'asheiva bond. Even protected by twenty-five-fold weaves, she could practically feel her soul be ripped asunder. She fell to her knees and pressed her hands to her temples.

"Ellysetta!" Bel cried.

«Shei’tani!»

She clenched her jaw and fought to keep from screaming. «It’s not me. It's Lathiel. He's in such pain. Oh, gods, it hurts. It hurts.»

"Fey!" Rain shouted. "Sel cha! Unless you see your target, throw black, not red! They have dahl'reisen with them!"

Behind the slain dahl'reisen, the now-visible Elden archers fired a barrage of arrows towards the Fey, while two Primages loosed large, blue-white globes of Mage Fire as cover. The third Primage spun Azrahn to open a portal to the Well of Souls. Fey'cha rained down upon the Eld, but the Mages and most of the archers leapt to safety into the Well before the Fey daggers hit their marks.

At the sight of the Mages, hot anger sparked to life deep inside her, and a familiar voice hissed, Vengeance. Vengeance. Make them pay for what they've done. She clapped frantic hands over her ears and cried, "Stop it!"

Another demon spawned barely two man lengths from her, and two lu’tan died before her quintet vanquished the dark thing with blazing tenfold weaves.

"Flames scorch it," Tajik swore. "If we don't get rid of those archers and the Mages calling those demons, we'll all be dead inside of half a bell."

"If we can get rid of the dahl'reisen holding the invisibility weaves, the Eld won't find it so easy to evade our blades." Bel glanced at Ellysetta, then away. His eyes took on the faint lavender glow of Spirit.

A few moments later, Rain's voice sounded urgently on a private Spirit weave. «Ellysetta. Forgive me, shei'tani, but we need your help to locate the dahl'reisen. None of us can sense them, but you can if we lower your shields. And if you can find them, you can guide our aim so we can take them out and bring down their invisibility weaves.»

She looked at the fallen lu'tan and the desperate battle raging around her. Once more, the familiar terrible rage rose up from within her and clawed for release. Kill them all. Shred their flesh from their bones.

Having just felt Lathiel's torment after he'd slain that dahl'reisen, she knew what Rain was asking her to do. Simply opening herself up enough to sense the dahl'reisen would cause her incredible pain. But that would pale in comparison to the agony the lu'tan—and she, through their lute'asheiva bond-would feel when they killed the dahl'reisen holding the weaves. But she also knew that if they didn't do something soon they were all dead. Or worse than dead. What choice was there?

«Do it,» she said. And the wild, angry thing inside her hissed its delight.

Rain sent the instruction to Bel on a grim private weave. «Do it, Bel.» He stifled his protective shei’tan’s instincts and braced himself for a fierce surge of Rage. Once those shields came down and Ellysetta could sense the dahl'reisen, her pain would drive him to the edge of madness. He knew it. Bel knew it. He just hoped he had strength enough to keep the tairen in check.

Sel'dor burned in his chest, arm, and thighs where the Eld's foul missiles had struck him, leaving the barbs buried deep in his flesh. His Fey body continually tried to heal the wounds, but the sel'dor responded by burning like acid and twisting his magic into pain. There was enough sel'dor in him make each breath an effort and set his teeth on edge each time he spun a weave, but not enough to stop a tairen in full Rage from changing.

He had been hiding the truth these last weeks from Ellysetta . . . from everyone. Bel suspected, but then, Bel had known him too well for too long. There wasn't much he could hide from his oldest and dearest friend.