Her eyes narrowed. It was said Fey could not lie, but he hadn't said no. And he'd been in this same cell for a thousand years. "I was hoping to bring a few things you might find useful. But if you have no place to hide them . . ." She let her voice trail off.

"What sort of things?" Wariness had crept into his voice. Oh, yes, he had managed to carve out some sort of hiding place in his cell.

"Things you will require to fulfill your bargain. A blade. A Fey crystal." She knew from eavesdropping on conversations between novice and apprentice Mages that the Fey crystals contained powerful magic. Lord Death would need every advantage if he were to succeed. Pale hands shot out to grab the cell bars, despite the barbs that dug into his palms, and Lord Death dragged himself over to her. Matted black hair fell into eyes that had begun to glow green as his magic rose. "My sorreisu kiyr? You know where it is?"

"A... sorai zukeer? Is that what you call the Fey crystals?" She filed the piece of information away. "No, not yours. Everything of yours the Mage keeps close to him or locked away in a place only he knows. But you are not the only Fey warrior ever to be a guest in this place, and some of the other Mages are not as careful with their secrets." She frowned. "You can still use it even though it belonged to another, can't you?"

"Aiyah, but my own would be better."

"I can't get yours. You'll have to make do with what I can bring," she told him. No matter how much better his own crystal might be, stealing from the High Mage was suicide. Only a fool would even attempt it, and Melliandra was no fool. Laying hands on one of the other Mages' crystals was already risky enough. "There's something else I need you to do as well."

"What?"

She took a breath, then plunged onward. "If I showed you one of the Mage's wards . . . could you figure out how to undo it?”

"It wouldn't do you any good. It takes magic to undo magic."

"But could you?”

He shrugged. "Perhaps. I'd have to see the weave first to know."

"Hurry up in there!" one of the guards called from the door. "What's taking so long?"

Melliandra turned halfway towards the door "He's weak. I practically have to feed him myself." To the Fey, she hissed, "Save the bread and meat, but eat the rest quickly. If you don't, they'll be suspicious." She waited for him to scoop the cold, fatted porridge from the bowl with his fingers and force it down. When he was done, she snatched the bowl back and clambered to her feet. "I've got to go. I’ll be back when I can."

Celieria

With all the shields around her, Ellysetta should not have dreamed of darkness. But she did.

She did not dream her usual nightmares of war and destruction or of herself, pitiless and damned, leading the Army of Darkness to destroy the earth. Nei, this time she dreamed of something smaller, more personal, and therefore infinitely more terrifying.

She dreamed of Lillis and Lorelle, huddled together in the dim filth of a black pit, sobbing her name, pleading for her to save them.

Above, standing on a viewing platform two levels above, a shrouded figure in purple robes watched their torment. At his side, Ellysetta saw herself, clad incongruously in a boatnecked gown of rich forest green velvet, her hair unbound and spilling across her shoulders like a fall of flame. She looked more pampered guest than prisoner, except for the chains fastened to the sel'dor bindings locked tight around her neck and wrists. Two large guards stood behind her, holding her chains in their meaty fists.

Hovering overhead, like a soul cast out of its body, she watched the scene unfold. She was an observer, distant and disconnected, yet some part of her remained intimately linked to the people in her dream. She felt each emotion, each terror, each gloating triumph, as if it were her own.

The robed Mage raised an arm, and the sound of rattling chains and cogs welled up from the darkness of the pit. Then came the howling and the rasping scrabble of claw on rock, as slavering darrokken with eyes like red /lames rushed towards Lillis and Lorelle.

The girls shrieked in terror and shrank back against the slimy wall of the pit, clutching each other and crying her name. "Ellie! Ellie, help us! Help us!"

Ellysetta lunged against her bonds, crying, "Parei! Stop! I beg you, stop!"

The Mage, his face hidden by the folds of his purple shroud, remained unmoved. "There is only one way to stop this. You know what that is."

"Please." Weeping, she fell to her knees. "I beg you. I'll do whatever you want, only stop this. Let them live. Please let them live."

Helplessly watching from above, Ellysetta cried a warning to herself: "Nei! Do not!" But the weeping Ellysetta did not hear her.

The Mage's hands shot out. A sharp blade sliced across the captive Ellysetta’s wrist, and the Mage pressed the wound to his pale, bloodless lips. A hand splayed across her left breast. She threw back her head on a silent wail of despair. Slowly, beneath the Mage's hand, a sixth black shadow appeared on the skin over her heart and her eyes turned from Fey green to pits of darkness that flickered with red lights.

Ellysetta wept in honor as freezing ice penetrated her soul, robbing her of hope, of Light, of all will to resist.

Darkness fell. She floated there, alone, cold, her senses void.

79When light returned, it was a dim red-orange flame that slowly drove back the gloom to reveal a different shadowy cave. Lillis and Lorelle were gone. In the flickering light, she saw Rain, bloodied and broken, his body wrapped in heavy sel'dor chains and pinned to a rough-hewn wall. A man in executioner's garb stood be/ore him, a sel'dor sword gripped in one gauntleted fist. The purple-shrouded Mage stood in the shadows off to one side. Of herself, there was no sign.