Cold silver eyes regarded him from beneath strings of tangled hair. Without a word, the girl pushed the heavy cart towards the refuse chute at the opposite end of the corridor. The body didn't have far to fall when she dumped it. This was the lowest level of Boura Fell, and the pit was only a few manlengths deeper.

The boneless body hit the bottom of the pit with a dull thud. Mad barking, snarling, and the scrabble of racing feet followed instantly.

The girl peered into the chute, silver eyes observing with cold interest as the pack of leather-hided, wolflike darrokken ripped into their newest feast. One of the beasts glanced up, its red eyes glowing in the darkness of the pit, jagged yellow fangs bared. It saw her peering down and raced for the walls of the pit, leaping and snapping barely a manlength below her. The girl drew back quickly, covering her mouth as the foul reek of the darrokken wafted up.

The two umagi had already finished and were heading upstairs. As she put her foot on the bottom stair to follow, she cast one last considering glance towards the guarded cell door at the end of the corridor. Desriel. Lord Death. She whispered the names under her breath, and ran up the steps.

The Fading Lands ~ Chatok

Midway through the meal, Marissya leaned towards Rain and murmured, "Has Tajik had a chance to speak with you?"

"No," he said. "I haven't seen him since we came through the Mists. Why?"

"Apparently the Massan convened in our absence."

Rain's hands tightened briefly on his silverware.

"What is the Massan?" Ellysetta asked.

"Not what," Dax murmured. "Who. The Massan are the five Fey lords who work with Marissya and Rain to govern the Fading Lands."

"You mean like the Twenty?" Celieria's twenty great lords, the nation's largest landholders, were the most influential men in Celieria after King Dorian, and they voted on all important matters of state.

"More like his personal council of advisers." With a slender, two-tined fork, Dax speared a slice of one of the crunchy, slightly sweet root vegetables Ellysetta had tried earlier and bit into it. "There are five Fey lords of the Massan, each mated, and each a master of the magic he represents."

"It sounds like a quintet."

"Aiyah, only they do not defend a single shei'dalin. They protect the Fading Lands."

"From what?"

Rain gave a short laugh. "For the last thousand years? From me. Or so it always seems," he added when she frowned in concern and Marissya gave him a chiding look. "We do not often see eye to eye. If not for Marissya, we would have been at one another's throats on more than one occasion."

Ellysetta glanced at Dax's mate. "Marissya serves on the Massan council too?"

"She is not just a shei'dalin" Dax said. "She is the Shei'dalin, the leader of all Truthspeakers and healers of the Fey." When Ellysetta still looked confused, he explained. "In the Fading Lands, all authority ultimately rests with the Defender of the Fey. But the Shei'dalin"—he indicated his mate, Marissya, with a wave of the speared vegetable—"and the Massan assist in the administration of the Fading Lands and oversee all tasks of governance that do not require the Tairen Soul's attention."

"What does it mean that they're meeting without Rain and Marissya?"

"It means there is trouble brewing in Dharsa," Rain said bluntly.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Marissya said at the same time.

Ellysetta looked between the two of them. "So which is it: trouble or nothing?"

Rain sighed. "I may have been the Feyreisen for the last thousand years, but Marissya and the Massan have been the ones leading the country since the Wars. First because of my madness, and then because I devoted all my attention to completing my Cha Baruk. The chatok thought the discipline of the training would help me to rebuild and strengthen my internal barriers and keep my madness in check. They were right, but the training didn't leave me much time to be the king of the Fey."

"You think some of the Massan grew too accustomed to wielding the power of the Tairen Throne themselves." Ellysetta pressed a hand against her stomach. Having only just left the political turmoil of Celieria, she'd been hoping to find a measure of peace in the Fading Lands. A fool's hope, perhaps, given that war was imminent and the tairen were dying, but still…

"Nei, Rain, do not alarm the Feyreisa," Marissya said, frowning at him. "You know it's nothing like that. Hunger for political power is a mortal affliction. The Fey have no such desires."

"The tairen do not hunger for political power either, Marissya, but that does not stop the members of the pride from issuing Challenge if they think the makai leading them is weak. The strongest leads; the rest follow. That is the law of the pride." There was a grim set to his jaw, and when Ellysetta feathered a hand across his, an unsettling mix of emotions roiled through her senses: tension, anger, and something that felt strangely like…shame.

Rain pulled his hand away to reach for his wineglass.

"The lords of the Massan are honorable Fey whose sole interest is the protection and welfare of the Fading Lands," Marissya insisted. "They would never betray the Feyreisen."

"Marissya, the lords of the Massan are warriors, first and foremost. I do not doubt their honor, but there's not a Fey warrior born who is not tairen enough to issue Challenge if he believes the situation warrants it."