"Black hair. Pale blue Fey eyes with all the color and warmth of glacier ice. A scar bisecting his right eyebrow. Here"-he held out a hand-"take the memory to confirm it." When Rain hesitated, Cann said, "It's all right. I know the Fey can read thoughts through touch”

"I will not search," Rain vowed, "and I will try not to touch more than surface thoughts. Just think of the man you saw. Try to picture his face in your mind.” Rain reached out to clasp the Celierian's hand.

The moment Fey pale skin slid over darker Celierian bronze, Cann's thoughts began to flow into Rain's consciousness. They didn't come in a flood, which proved Cann had stronger mental barriers than most of his countrymen, and most of the thoughts that did trickle through were related to Gaelen and the current situation: Why do the dahl'reisen protect my lands but attack others? Why did Gaelen vel Serranis save my life and come to warn me that darkness is rising in Eld? Is there something behind Rain Tairen Soul's visit that-

The last thought was cut off abruptly, and Cann quickly filled Rain's mind with a very strong image of a Fey warrior's face.

Even expecting it, Rain felt his gut clench at the image of the infamous, familiar face of the once-celebrated Fey warrior: Gaelen vel Serranis, now called the Dark Lord. It was Gaelen whose blood-drenched vengeance for his twin sister's death had catapulted the world into the Mage Wars. Long black hair framed a stern, humorless face dominated by piercing, ice-blue eyes. A long, curving scar started two inches above the right temple and slashed across his forehead to bisect his right brow. No Fey became scarred except dahl'reisen, and, except for deep, mortal wounds, even they only scarred when they made the kill that tipped their souls into darkness. Rain remembered Marissya's shriek of agony when her brother returned to the Fading Lands with that telltale mark on his face. He remembered the bleak despair on Gaelen's face when she and the rest of the Fey women fled from him and the unbearable pain of his doomed soul.

Rain released Cann's hand, and the image faded. "If that was the Fey you saw, it was indeed Gaelen who saved your life as a child.”

Cann nodded and murmured softly, "I remember how fast he moved, how quickly and effortlessly he killed the Elden raiders. The last thing I remember, he was crouching over me, telling me I was safe. I must have passed out then. When I woke, I was alone. There were no bodies, no blood, just an empty field, a scorch mark on the grass, and my father's ring on a chain around my neck." Cann twisted the heavy signet ring on his right hand. "I still wish he'd left their bodies, so I could have had something to bury”

Rain knew the pain of loss all too well, and he knew the hollow ache of a loss that left nothing to hold, no way to say final good-byes. "Gaelen would have burned the dead so their souls could not be called back by Elden Mages," Rain said, wanting Cannevar to have at least that small comfort. "He did what was best for them, and for you.”

"Did he? I never realized that.”

"There is much your people no longer know, particularly regarding magic and magical races. The Eld freely use Azrahn, the magic we Fey have forbidden amongst ourselves. It is a dark and dangerous magic, too easily misused and too seductive a power for even Fey to wield without risk of abuse. You Celierians think we warn you against the Eld just because they and the Fey decimated one another a thousand years ago, but that is only a small part of the reason for our distrust of them.”

The avenue of oaks opened to a small stocked fishpond. Rain bent to pick up a small stone and sent it skipping across the surface of the water. "Why would the Eld have killed your parents?" he asked.

Lord Barrial shrugged. "Why do they do half the things they do? They raid. They kill, unless the border folk kill them first." He sent a stone skipping several man-lengths past the ripples of Rain's, then smiled at Rain's arched brow.

Rain shook his head. "The Eld are not so indiscriminate. They rarely do anything without a purpose, and that purpose is usually guided by Mage hands. Was your father wearing the Tairen's Eye the night he was killed?" He picked up another stone and let it fly. This stone skipped fourteen times across the pond, bounced up the bank on the opposite side, and startled a flock of geese into flight.

Cann laughed and threw up his hands in surrender. "You win. And, no, my father only wore the crystal on ceremonial occasions. You think that's what they were after?”

"It's possible. Tairen's Eye is coveted by anyone who wields magic.”

The crystal was priceless to those who dabbled in magic, due to the power it contained and its ability to focus and even amplify the wearer's own magic. In the hands of a skilled Mage, Tairen's Eye was lethal, especially a sorreisu kiyr, which could give the Mage access to a Fey's soul. Tairen's Eye could be corrupted with Azrahn to create selkahr, the black jewel of the Mages.

"Do you have the crystal with you now?" Rain asked. Wariness replaced the amusement in Cann's expression. "Why do you ask?”

"If I am right, it is a sorreisu kiyr, a Fey Soul Quest crystal. It will retain the identity of the warrior who owned it first, and that may help me understand why the dahl'reisen and the Eld have taken such an interest in your family.”

With obvious reluctance, Lord Barrial tugged the crystal free of his leather tunic and slipped the chain over his head. Rain took the shining stone between his fingers, feeling the tingle of the harnessed magic that made Tairen's Eye so rare and so valuable. He took a breath and opened himself to the crystal, asking it to offer up its secrets.