King of Sword and Sky by C. L. Wilson Read Free Book Online Page A

that base, beneath a thick layer of clear crystalline glass, a Spirit weave of Sariel lay in peaceful repose. Rain had spun the weave to show Sariel as he remembered her, a young Fey maiden as beautiful and gentle as the dawn, with snowy white Fey-pale skin, hair of blackest ebony, and lips like rose petals.
    Beneath her sleeping figure—written in the four languages of the ancient allies: Celierian, Feyan, Elvish, and Danae—he had inscribed the words Ellysetta had suggested: Sariel the Beloved. May she awaken with joy to truemate's call.

    As Rain and Ellysetta stood together regarding the results of his weave, the Great Sun peeked above the horizon. Dawn bathed the Lake of Glass in warm light, setting the names etched in the dark surface afire like diamonds sparkling in the sun. As the sun rose higher, beams of soft, golden light fell upon the shining glass of Sariel's tomb, and the Spirit weave within shimmered and glowed, sending bright rainbows of multicolored light spilling out in a radiant aura around the tomb. Within the rainbows whirled Spirit weaves of Sariel, laughing, dancing, healing, each image filled with life and joy.
    Rain's heart rose up in his throat, and the arms he had wrapped around Ellysetta's waist tightened to pull her close against him. He bent his head to press a kiss against the thick, fragrant, silken spirals of her flame red hair. "Beylah vo, shei'tani. Thank you for this."
    No longer was the Lake of Glass a place of loss and death and hopeless darkness, but rather a memorial of peace and beauty, glistening with the golden promise of a new day.
    Ellysetta turned in his arms, her leaf green eyes shining, her lips curved in a smile that filled his heart with long-forgotten joy. "Sha vel'mei, kem'san." She cupped a hand to his jaw. "Take me back to Teleon so I can make a few good-byes of my own, and then let's go home … to the Fading Lands."

Chapter three

    Celieria ~ Teleon

    "Well, well, look what the tairen dragged in." Kieran vel Solande slipped a polished meicha scimitar into his hip sheath and turned to greet the warrior who had just passed through the Spirit weave protecting Teleon from outside eyes.
    Gaelen vel Serranis paused just inside the lower bailey and let his gaze sweep across the restored estate. "Impressive."
    The sounds of industry filled the air as on every level of the city-fortress Fey toiled in the midmorning sun. All Fey with enough command of Earth to make themselves useful were once again busy replacing the remaining Spirit weave buildings with real mortar and stone, while Air masters assisted in shuttling loads of blocks and wood, and Fire masters forged metal for gates, door braces, and weaponry to aid in the defense of the city.
    "Greetings, Uncle. You've been gone so long, I was beginning to think a lyrant made a meal of you." Kieran made a tsk ing sound and shook his head. "Ah, well, hope springs eternal."
    Gaelen narrowed ice blue eyes at his sister Marissya's son. "Still full of sass, puppy? Clearly, vel Jelani isn't working you hard enough if you still have breath to jabber."
    "Ha. Where've you been?"
    Gaelen reached out to ruffle the younger Fey's head, a deliberately patronizing gesture that made Kieran scowl and jerk away. "Not your business, youngling." It was Gaelen's turn to grin, and he took pleasure in it. "Where is the Tairen Soul?"
    When Kieran just glared and pressed his lips closed, Kiel rolled his eyes and answered in his stead. "On the third level with Lord Teleos, finishing what he can before he and the Feyreisa depart."
    "And the Feyreisa?"
    "On the upper level, planting a memory garden for her mother with Marissya and the twins."
    Gaelen nodded, then glanced at Kieran and furrowed his brows. "What's this mess?" He reached out to straighten the leather Fey'cha belts crisscrossing Kieran's chest. "You call yourself a warrior? Sloppy, vel Solande. Very sloppy."
    Scowling, Kieran looked down to see what his uncle was talking about. The next thing