"Since when have mortals ever been rational?" Tajik muttered.

"Dorian is Gaelen's jita'taikonos—the descendant of his sister's son. He is not purely mortal."

"He's not purely Fey either." Gil pulled a black Fey'cha from his chest harnesses and sliced a leg from the last of the rabbits. "Not even mostly Fey."

"He's Fey enough."

Gil's dark brows lifted over starry black eyes. "If you believed that, Adrial and Rowan wouldn't still be hiding their presence in Celieria City from him. Bel could have spun the Mage's news to one of them on a private weave and we would never have left Orest." He flung a swath of moon-white hair over his shoulder with a toss of his head and sank his teeth into the rabbit leg.

Ellysetta watched the shutter fall over Rain's face. like Rain, Adrial vel Arquinas, the Air master of Ellysetta's first Fey quintet, had discovered his truemate in Celieria. Unfortunately for Adrial, his truemate had not merely been betrothed to a Celierian, as Ellysetta had—she'd been wed to one. The heir of a Great Lord, no less, and though Talisa's father, Great Lord Barrial, was friendly to the Fey, her husband's family was not. Great Lord Sebourne had, in fact, been Rain's fiercest foe in Celieria's Council of Lords, and he had fought vigorously to discredit the Fey, pushing to open the borders and allow free trade between Eld and Celieria.

"Dorian is Celieria's king," Rain replied to Gil. "He is bound by Celierian law, not Feyan. If he knew Adrial was still there—in direct violation of his earlier decree upholding Talisa's marriage—he would have no choice but to imprison him.”

"It's so cruel that something as joyful as shei’tanitsa should be cause for such despair," Ellysetta remarked. "Is there nothing we can do to help Adrial?"

"Short of killing diSebourne?" Rain asked. "Nei."

"DiSebourne's death can be arranged." Gaelen tossed out the offer in a flat voice. Silence fell as unease rippled around the circle.

"As tempting as the idea may be, Gaelen," Rain replied, "honorable Fey do not murder innocent mortals."

"DiSebourne is no innocent. He has refused to free a woman who bears no love for him, and by that willful choice he destroys not one but two lives. Three if Rowan must be the one to end his brother's life."

Ellysetta saw the flicker of remorse cross Rain's face. Adrial was going to die. They all knew that. Though Talisa's soul could never have called Adrial’s if her heart were bound elsewhere, duty and honor kept her tied to her mortal husband. As long as she did not consider herself free to accept Adrial, there was little hope she could summon the unequivocal love and trust necessary to complete the shei'tanitsa bond. The madness of an unfulfilled matebond would ultimately send Adrial to his death—-either an honor death executed by his own hand or a merciful end on the point of his brother's red Fey'cha.

"Even so," Rain said, "diSebourne's choice is no crime. He may be acting selfishly, but by his country's customs, he has every right to do so."

"Then his country's customs are wrong."

"We cannot simply slaughter mortals because we don't like their decisions. If Talisa leaves her husband, every Fey warrior in Celieria will defend her. But while she chooses to stay with him, we will not interfere. The Fey will not kill diSebourne so Adrial can have his wife." His gaze hardened to cold command. "And neither will your dahl'reisen friends."

After a brief visual skirmish, Gaelen bowed his head. "La ve shalah, Feyreisen." As you command.

Rain pinned him with a penetrating gaze before nodding curtly. "Kabei. Then it is settled. We carry the news to Dorian. He will react however he will react. That doesn't change what we must do. We face the Eld and champion the Light, as we always have."

"We need more allies," Bel said. "Even before the Mage Wars, we could not have hoped to face the Army of Darkness with only Celieria at our side. We need the Elves."

Rain grimaced. "You heard the same report as I did when Loris returned from Elvia. Hawksheart and his Elves will not join this fight,"

"He also told Loris he wanted to see you and Ellysetta."

"He wants to probe Ellysetta's mind because she calls a Song in their Dance." The Dance was an ancient Elvish prophecy said to reveal all the secrets of the world, past, present, and future. "Well, to the Seven Hells with what he wants. The pointy-eared rultshart knows we're facing the greatest threat to the world since the Mage Wars—possibly even since the dawn of the First Age—and still he will not help. Yet he thinks we will take weeks away from preparations for war to come running when he calls? Nei, we will go to Dorian, and then to the Danae."

Gil's brows rose. "The Danae? They care even less about the world beyond their borders than the Elves."

"They came to Johr's aid in the Mage Wars. With what we now know, surely they will come to ours,"

"The Elves fought in the Mage Wars, too," Bel reminded him. "It makes no sense that they would refuse us now."

Tajik coughed a curse word into his fist and spat on the ground. "Best for all of us, if you ask me. Elves care for nothing except that gods-cursed Dance of theirs."

Bel arched a brow. "That's a harsh remark, coming from you, Tajik. I seem to recall some mention of an Elf or two in your family line."

"Which is why you should believe me when I say we're better off without them." The red-haired general tore the remaining leg from the spitted rabbit and warmed it with a Fire-red glow in the palm of his hand. The silence that ensued made him glance up, and he scowled when he found Rain, Ellysetta, and the rest of the quintet looking at him. "What?"