Ellie cowered in fear, and instinctively held up her broken hand to ward him away. With a sobbing gasp, she rolled to her feet and staggered back.

"Stay away!" she ordered hoarsely. Her heart was racing, her breath coming in fast, shallow gasps, but she couldn't seem to get any air. Had he used his magic to steal the breath from her lungs? She knew the Fey could do that sort of thing.

"Ver reisa ku'chae. Kem surah, shei'tani." He spoke to her in a lyrical foreign tongue—Feyan, she realized, though she didn't understand the words—and stepped towards her.

"No!" she cried out. For all she knew, he'd just told her to prepare for her impending death. "Stay back! Don't come any closer!”

He paused for a moment, frowning. "Ve to dor. Ve ku'jian vallar." Then Rain Tairen Soul came towards her again, his steps slow and resolute. He reached for her, ignoring the way she sobbed and flinched away from him. His fingers, strong and surprisingly warm, curled around her forearms and trapped her with effortless strength. She had the overwhelming sensation of immense power, deep sorrow, and a terrible longing. But underlying all of those was another emotion—a violent swirl of rage. She cried out and struggled to free herself, succeeding only in grinding the bones of her hand together. Agony knifed up her arm.

A scream ripped from her throat. She fell to her knees. Unexpectedly, she found herself free. She blinked and risked a glance up at the Feyreisen.

His eyes were squeezed shut, his hands clenched in white- knuckled fists at his sides. He was shaking as if he were in pain. His eyes flashed open again. The ice was still in them, and confusion, and more than a hint of madness.

She watched him fearfully, her body poised to flee if he came towards her again. With a flick of his finger, he fashioned a door in the whirling cone of magic. His voice, deep, ancient, commanding, called out in Feyan.

A moment later, the Truthspeaker stepped through the doorway, followed closely by her mate. The Fey Lord Dax had sheathed his swords, and as he stepped inside the cone of magic the Feyreisen had erected, his own glow of power winked out. He followed a few feet behind his mate as she approached Ellie.

Though the shei'dalin's face was hidden behind folds of red, she radiated waves of compassion and reassurance. Despite everything—including her own mind whispering that this was a Fey trick—Ellie felt her terror begin to abate. She needed to trust this woman. The Truthspeaker would never cause her harm. There was no need to be afraid. She could be calm. All would be well.

The soothing compassion, the compulsion to release her fear, was impossible to resist. Dazed, lulled by the powerful hypnotic spell of a Fey shei'dalin, Ellie didn't protest when Marissya reached for her broken hand.

The Fey woman's long, pale fingers, slender and elegant, passed over Ellie's. Warmth sank through Ellie's skin and into the flesh and bone below. Her pain evaporated. A strange ticklish tingling spread across her hand, and she watched in astonishment as her bones straightened and knit. Within moments, her hand was whole and unhurt.

She flexed her fingers experimentally. There wasn't the faintest twinge of pain.

Ellie swallowed the lump in her throat and raised awestruck eyes to the Fey woman. "How did you do that?”

"Eva Telah, cor la v'ali, Feyreisa." The voice behind the veils sounded so peaceful, so soothing, so compassionate. Ellie wanted to sink into the comfort of that voice and absorb its tranquility. She fought off the lethargy with a brisk shake of her head.

"I don't understand you.”

The Truthspeaker's head jerked up. Though Ellie couldn’t see her eyes, she had a feeling the shei'dalin was staring at her in surprise. "You don't speak the Fey tongue?”

"Only a word or two." Ellie couldn't understand why that would be so unusual. Had she offended them somehow? "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I read it fairly well, but very few Celieria" still actually speak your language.”

"You are Celierian?”

Ellie blinked. "Of course.”

The Truthspeaker cast a glance over her shoulder. The Feyreisen was still staring at Ellie, and he was frowning. She began to inch away. Immediately, the shei'dalin turned back to her, lifting her heavy veil as she did so. Huge blue eyes, so full of compassion Ellie could drown in them, were smiling at her from a face so beautiful it would put a Lightmaiden to shame.

"Be at peace, little sister," the shei'dalin murmured, and her hand came out to rest on Ellie's. "Of all people, you need never fear Rainier." As the Fey woman spoke, Ellie felt a faint pressure in her head, so slight she might not have noticed it had she not already been on edge. Her eyes widened as she realized the Truthspeaker was probing her mind. It was said that a shei'dalin could strip a soul naked, leave even the strongest of men sobbing like infants. Truthspeakers could bend anyone to their will.

"No!" Ellie yanked her hand out of the Fey's grip and imagined a gate of brick and steel slamming shut around her mind, thrusting out the invading consciousness.

The shei'dalin gave a muffled cry and staggered back. The Tairen Soul's eyes flared bright, and a bubble of lavender light burst into glowing life around Ellie. A feral snarl rumbled from the Tairen Soul's chest, and he bared his teeth like a wild animal on the verge of attack. In a blur, he leapt between Ellie and the shei'dalin. In the same instant, the shei'dalin's mate also leapt forward.

"Get back!" The voice was in Ellie's head, sharp, commanding. Somehow she knew it had come from the Feyreisen. Scared out of her wits, Ellie pushed against the purple light enveloping her, trying to escape before the two Fey Lords decided to slaughter her where she stood.