But rather than putting her mind at ease, the visits only increased her concern. Because every pregnant woman's unborn child was a son gifted with powerful magic—including a distinct and potent spark of Azrahn.

The proof was irrefutable, the evidence too overwhelming to be mere coincidence. She, Ellysetta Baristani, had done far more than merely cause barren wombs to bear fruit once more.

She had created magical children arid given each of them the ability to spin Azrahn.

Just as the High Mage of Eld had done when he had created her.

"Well, something must have happened during our break," Cannevar Barrial murmured in a quiet aside to Rain. "I've never seen Lord Harrod so distracted." The war council had reconvened. Prince Dorian was reviewing the defenses of Celieria City, and more than once he had to call a dazed older Lord back to attention.

Rain glanced across the room at the elderly Great Lord Harrod, a former admiral of the king's navy and lord of King's Point. He was clearly suffering from the same shock as his fellow lords who had just discovered their impending fatherhood. "I suppose learning your sixty-year-old wife is with child can do that to even the most focused of mortals."

Cann's jaw dropped. "Learning what?"

"Ah, that's right. You came in after I did." The shocked announcements and congratulations had already ended before Lord Barrial returned from the war council's break. "Lady Harrod is pregnant." Rain nodded at the assembled lords. "All their wives are—as is any woman who was at that dinner when Ellysetta spun her weave." He gave Lord Barrial a rueful smile. "It seems my shei'tani's weave was more potent than we realized."

"All of the ladies are—" Lord Barrial's voice broke off and his face turned to stone. "Will you excuse me?" Not waiting for an answer, he strode out of the council chamber.

As the door closed, Rain winced in sudden understanding. Barrial's wife had died years ago, but he hadn't escaped Ellysetta's weave. Nor had Thea Trubol, the unmarried noblewoman who'd been partnered with him for dinner that night. And apparently Lady Thea either didn't yet know or hadn't yet broken the news of her condition to Lord Barrial.

Poor Cann. First his daughter Talisa had recognized Adrial as her truemate scarcely a month after her marriage to Lord Sebourne's heir, and now this. His friendship with the Fey had not served his family kindly of late.

Two familiar warriors were waiting in the palace suite when Ellysetta returned from her visits with the noble ladies of Celieria. Dark haired, dark eyed, and so alike in appearance they could be twins, they turned to face the opening door when she entered, and the sight of them—unexpected and dearer than she'd known until this moment—shoved her troubled thoughts to the back of her mind.

"Rowan! Adrial!" Joy burst from her heart, and she ran across the room to fling herself into first one pair of arms, then another. "Oh, my friends! Mioralas, kem'mareskia, I am so very glad to see you both." She pulled back, then laughed, and hugged and kissed them both again.

"If I didn't know better, 'Jonn," Gil quipped dryly, "I’d say she was happy to see them."

"Only a little." Rijonn gave a laugh that sounded more like the rumble of shifting earth.

Ellysetta beamed. "I refuse to pretend any joy less than I feel. These two lived with my family for weeks before Rain and I married. They are beloved friends, and I have missed them greatly." Emotion misted her eyes. Rowan and Adrial had been with her when she still had a family, and seeing them was like having a little piece of Mama, Papa, Lillis, and Lorelle back in her life. Smiling through the tears, she cradled their faces in her hands and kissed them both again until even brash Rowan's ears turned pink.

"No offense, Ellysetta," Rowan muttered, "but please stop that before Rain arrives. I'm only eleven hundred. Far too young to die."

She laughed and relented, settling for dragging them both towards the cushioned settee. "Come. Sit. Tell me everything. How have you been? How is Talisa? How are you both holding up? Oh, and have you met Gil and Rijonn?"

The brothers shared a dazed look as she bombarded them with her questions, but when she mentioned Gil and Rijonn, Rowan and Adrial glanced in their direction, then suddenly jumped to their feet and stood with spines stiff as pikes.

"Chakai vel Jendahr, Chakai vel Ahrimor." Rowan executed a shallow bow with crisp military precision. "It is an honor to meet you both." Beside him, Adrial bowed with equal precision.

"So you do know each other," Ellysetta said.

"We have never met," Gil said.

"Only by reputation," Rowan said at the same time. "These are the heroes of Mowbren Glarn, one of the fiercest battles of the Mage Wars."

"All were heroes that day," Gil said, and the silver stars in his eyes dimmed until his irises were almost pure black. "We just happened to be among the few to survive it."

"The few who did survive owe their lives to you. Your weaves from that day have been taught at the academy ever since." Rowan frowned. "But I thought you were both rasa. ..."

"We were," Rijonn said.

"Then how—" Rowan broke off. Both he and Adrial turned to look at Ellysetta. "Ah."

"She restored the souls of three hundred rasa at the warcastle of chakai," Gil said. "We were among them and serve her now as lu'tan and masters in her primary quintet."