Tairen breath heaved from his lungs, meeting the fine mist of venom that sprayed from his fangs and igniting just a few fingerspans from his muzzle when the two combined. Tairen fire poured forth in a roaring jet, incinerating the incoming spears to harmless black dust. He screamed a defiant challenge and dove toward the ramparts, raining fire upon the castle walls, consuming one full line of bowcannon and the soldiers scrambling to reload them.

Ellysetta flung weaves and Air and Fire everywhere his flame had not scorched. She cried out and her weaves cut off just as Rain felt the prickle of arrows pepper his hide. He spun away, roaring with fury. She’d been arrow-shot.

«Shei’tani?»

She clung to his back, leaning low over the saddle front.

«I’m fine.»

But she wasn’t. Two sel’dor-barbed arrows had buried themselves deep in her back, and he felt them as plainly as if it were his own back burning with their foul acid. Just the effort to speak to him on Spirit racked her slender body with pain.

They had wounded his mate! He screamed his Rage, and tairen fury turned his vision scarlet.

Before he could circle back and fire the rest of the castle, a third volley of spears burst from a line of cannon hidden in the surrounding forest. He banked instinctively in a tight, northward wheel, but the spears came too fast. Fresh black agony ripped through his right shoulder and back leg.

He tumbled through the air, losing altitude faster than he was losing blood. His tattered wings fought for balance, but every powerful flap shredded muscles against the razor-sharp shards of sel’dor in his flesh. His right wing, impeded by the spear piercing his shoulder, could not keep up with his left, and he careened helplessly northward, towards Eld.

«Rain! Look!»

Below, he saw what had previously escaped his notice: Eld soldiers, thousands of them, massing beneath camouflage netting draped between the trees. They raced out from beneath their cover, and sunlight glinted off their armor and unsheathed weapons. A company of archers loosed a hailstorm of arrows. He spun what protection he could around Ellysetta’s own shield and fired a path through the dark cloud of sel’dor missiles. He put on a burst of speed as he passed the archers, trying to outpace their second volley, but a Mage must have been accelerating their shots. Arrows tore through the tattered membranes of his wings and sank into his hide. He heard Ellysetta’s pained gasp as two of the missiles pierced their shields and buried themselves in her leg.

He saw the Eld running in pursuit as he plummeted down a faltering glide path. «Hold on, Ellysetta!»

The trees rose up quickly—too quickly—and he cannoned into them, tucking his wings tight against his back as he smashed through the treetops. Desperately, roaring in pain when the sel’dor punished his use of magic, he threw a protective web around Ellysetta just before he lost control and went tumbling downward. He felt Ellysetta being flung from the saddle and heard her cry out, but there was nothing he could do to stop her fall. He crashed through the forest, shattering massive trunks with his tumbling body. His wingbones snapped, but even that searing pain was nothing compared to the agony of the sel’dor buried in his flesh or the worse agony of Ellysetta’s scream as she fell to earth. His paws flexed, claws extending to dig into the trees, the ground, and even solid rock to slow his momentum.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of destruction, his battered tairen’s body came to rest against a small copse of fragrant brindlewood tree. Tiny yellow leaves drifted down upon him in a shower of bright winter fragrance.

CHAPTER NINE

On dream’s whispered breath, I search for thee.

On wings of hope, I soar.

On desire’s breeze, I call to thee,

And pray with song and roar.

Tairen’s Chant to His Beloved,

a poem by Rainier vel’En Daris, Tairen Soul

The Faering Mists

Stinging little pinpricks roused Lillis back to consciousness and she looked down to find her kitten, Snowfoot, kneading her chest with his tiny, sharp claws. The pouch tied around her neck that had secured the kitten had slung off to one side during her fall, which explained why she hadn’t noticed the kitten earlier.

Snowfoot mewed piteously and nudged his head against her hand, the way Love, the kitten, always had when she was hungry or thirsty.

“I’m sorry,” Lillis whispered. Her voice came out scratchy and hoarse. “I’m so sorry.” More helpless tears trickled from the corners of her eyes. Snowfoot was hers to care for, and she couldn’t do any more to save the kitten than she could to save herself.

Lillis started to sob again, then stopped because it hurt too much. She’d never been this alone or this badly wounded or this frightened. Always someone had been there to watch over her and protect her and keep her safe from harm—Mama, Ellie, Papa, Kieran, even Lorelle.

Lorelle would never just lie down and die. Lorelle was the strong one, the fearless one. Lillis could almost hear Lorelle now, irascible and impatient. “Stop sniveling, you ninnywit. What good has that ever done anyone?”

Thinking of her twin made Lillis’s tears flow faster. For all that Lorelle could be snappish and bossy, there was no one in the world Lillis was closer to. She couldn’t think of a single time in her life when they’d been apart for more than a few bells. Until now.

Lillis squeezed her eyes shut and tried again to contact her twin. Lorelle… Lorelle, can you hear me? It wasn’t magic, exactly. Not magic the way the Fey spun it, in any case. It was more like sharing thoughts—as if some part of them had been united in the womb and never fully separated.